Six days. It had been six days since Chloe had swept into his house and all but kidnapped Angela to take her on what she insisted was a "much needed vacation." By the third day, Juice had felt so alone in that damn house; he'd gone and bought himself a puppy just to have someone to come home to. It was strange to him how much he missed her. He had this ache in his chest every morning when he woke up without her by his side, when he went about his day without seeing her face or hearing her laugh. She called every once in a while to check in, but it wasn't the same. It felt like a part of him was missing. He wondered if that was how she felt when he'd been in county.

He spent a lot of his time at the hospital with Clay, making sure the ex-president was all right and helping him find a new place since Gemma had kicked him out. Clay had always been a father figure to him, and it felt good to help out the old man in his time of need. He and Chucky had nearly finished unpacking all of Clay's stuff at his new place, doing so under Clay's watchful eyes.

"Your girl gets back tomorrow, don't she?" Clay asked, sitting down in the old armchair they'd found in the MC storage unit.

"Today," Juice corrected, trying and failing to keep a smile off his face as he placed some of Clay's belongings on a shelf. "Missed her."

"Been the only pussy you been hittin' for awhile, huh?"

He shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide how much Angela being referred to as "pussy" bothered him. "Yeah," he answered, bobbing his head. "Three years almost."

"She really the only one?"

Juice paused, taking a second to think back on the years that had gone by. He hadn't been with another woman since the first time he'd been with her. It hadn't even been intentional; Angela was honestly the only girl he'd been interested in. Even on runs, her sexy pictures kept him on the straight and narrow. "Yeah, actually," he said on a laugh.

Clay chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head at his brother. "Poor sap. You gonna marry her?"

"Dunno," he answered on a shrug. The disgust apparent in Clay's voice made him a bit ashamed of his future plans to tie the knot. "She's havin' my kid so..."

"That don't mean shit, Juicy. I'd cool it with the Old Lady stuff. You've seen Jax, Ope, me...nothin' good comes of it. Just a steady lay. Bound to get boring after awhile," Clay advised, though deep down in his heart he knew it was bullshit. He'd give anything to have his Old Lady back. "If I was you, I'd be getting my kicks in 'fore the kid comes. You're only young once, son, don't tie yourself down. Lot more exciting things out there than her."

Juice nodded, the statement lingering in his brain. It had never occurred to him that he was moving too fast. In fact, there'd been times people had mentioned they were moving too slowly. His head was spinning now. Would Angela be the last woman he ever had sex with? He didn't know what to feel about it. A part of him was fine with that idea, agreed to it readily; Angela was quite skilled in the bedroom and willing to try almost anything he asked. The other part of him was panicking; maybe there were things he hadn't tried yet, things neither of them knew about because they'd been together for so long. His stomach churned at the thought. Rubbing a hand over his mohawk, he nodded. "Yeah. Guess you're right," he said, more to appease Clay than because he truly believed it. He glanced at his phone before wiping his hands on the thighs of his pants. "I gotta go."

"Think about what I said, Juicy. Lotta good fish in the sea, no reason to hold on to just one."

"Yeah...right. I'll see you later," he replied, before opening the door and heading outside. He'd been looking forward to Angela coming home since the moment he'd woken up, but after his chat with Clay, it felt like a dark cloud had rolled in and blocked his sunshine.

Before he knew it, he was parked in front of his house. He opened the front door, smiling when the German shepherd mix puppy rushed to greet him. Most days, he took the dog with him wherever he went, but Clay didn't want the puppy in his house so he had to leave him at home. "Hey boy," he greeted, rubbing a hand over the puppy's soft fur. "Mama's comin' home today."

He took a heavy seat on the front step, staring out at the street before him while his hand rubbed absentmindedly over his dog's back, his mind still filled with what Clay had said. The ex-President had been the closest thing he had to a father. He'd helped him through all sorts of trials but had never offered up relationship advice. Not that Juice had needed it in the past but still...it felt odd coming from someone who'd Old Lady refused to visit him. But maybe that was the root of it. Maybe Clay was trying to save him the trouble of dealing with an Old Lady like Gemma.

But dealing with Angela had never been troublesome. What they had was easy. Sure, they'd hit some bumps in the road, but never anything to make him second guess her. He loved her. She was having his kid; a bond Gemma and Clay had never shared. What they had was different. It had to be.

He heard the bass long before he saw the little Mazda round the corner. Angela had insisted on driving most of the way on their little road trip since she hated being in the passenger seat. Though he'd hated the idea earlier, he was happy about it now; it meant he didn't have to deal with awkward hellos in front of her friend. His heart leapt in his chest, a smile spreading across his face before he could help it. Clay's words were pushed away when he saw her waving at him.

Stepping towards the car, he opened the door for her. Angela grinned up at him in response, her tan skin a few shades darker, face glowing with happiness. God, she was beautiful. "Hey you," she greeted with a bright smile.

He hadn't seen her smile like that in a long time. Chloe had been right, she'd needed this. "Hey baby," he replied, smiling back at her. He pulled her in close, putting his lips to hers in a long kiss. "Welcome home."

"It's good to be back," she replied on a happy sigh. She looked down at the little ball of fluff that was currently making its way over to Juice. "Who's this?"

"Got a little lonely so I invested in a guard dog," he explained, trying to keep the sheepish look off of his face. "This is Rigor. Thought he could take care of my most precious belongings."

She knew he wasn't talking about his video games and felt her heart swell. Getting a puppy just before having a baby wasn't the smartest idea, but if he'd been feeling lonely and his solution was to buy a dog instead of seek out a Croweater; she wasn't going to complain. "Rigor as in rigor mortis?" she asked, already in love with the name. She held out a hand for the puppy to sniff.

He grinned at her as he nodded. "Thought you'd like it."

"I love it," she said, laughing as Rigor licked her hand. "He's a great addition to our little family."

Family. The word just about gave him chills. Since he'd left his mom's house, family was all he ever wanted. He'd found one in the Sons and now, he was starting his own with his girl. Clay's words couldn't be farther from his mind. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to her feet before giving her one long, passionate kiss. "Love you, Angel," he said, grinning when he saw the dazed look in her eyes. "Glad you're home."

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

Something was off. Angela had felt it as soon as she came home and saw Juice again. They'd spent most of the morning in bed, enjoying being reunited after having spent such a long time apart. It was once they got out of bed that Juice had started acting weird. She couldn't put her finger on what it was, but he seemed lost in his own head and try as she might, she couldn't pull him out of it. She wondered if she'd messed something up by leaving for so long. Had leaving somehow damaged their relationship? He'd told her more than once that he wanted her to go, to relax, and with his blessing, she'd done just that. Did he resent her for that now? Should she have put up more of a fight to stay?

Even now, standing beside her in front of the clubhouse, he seemed to be millions of miles away, his dark eyes locked on something across the way. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest when she followed his gaze to where a few sweetbutts were milling about. No. There was no way. She was mistaken. He wasn't looking at them. Something else must have caught his attention. "Whatcha lookin' at?" she asked, trying to make light of the situation.

Juice had been looking at the sweetbutts, all three of them new to the clubhouse, less jaded, and younger than Angela. He'd thought he was done thinking about his conversation with Clay from earlier that morning, but seeing the sweetbutts standing there, he couldn't help but wonder if that was what Clay had been talking about. He shook himself from his daze and gave Angela a smile. "The ring. Been a few good matches the past couple nights."

"Oh," she replied, not looking entirely convinced. "You get in on any of 'em?"

He let his hand slide from her shoulders to her bottom. "Nah, I'm a lover, not a fighter," he said, squeezing her ass to emphasize the point.

She laughed, pulling him in for a long, hot kiss. Staking her claim wasn't usually her style, but she'd been gone awhile and wanted to make sure the new sweetbutts knew to stay away. Juice kissed her back, matching her intensity, his hands sliding into the back pockets of her jeans and pulling her in closer.

"Little Angie Ruiz," a voice drawled out, ending their little makeout session.

Angela froze. She knew that voice. Turning, she found the voice's owner giving her a shit eating grin, his hands in his pockets, that stupid snapback on his head. "Hey Greggo," she greeted, smiling when he hugged her tightly, lifting her up off her feet.

"Look at you all grown up! Last time I saw you, you were, what? Eighteen? Nineteen?" Greg asked, ignoring the annoyed looks Juice was giving him.

She'd met Greg in Tacoma when SAMTAC went on a lock down and called the Nomads down for extra help. It'd been one of the few times she'd stayed in the clubhouse for more than an hour. She'd been pissed at Happy and Koz for pulling her out of school for a week because they thought she'd be in danger. Greg had been a newly patched brother, in charge of staying at the clubhouse and keeping watch over the women. He'd charmed her right away, telling her outlandish tales of how he'd lost his leg. Each time they talked, he'd make up a new one, each time assuring her that everything else still worked very well and he hadn't been lying. "Yeah," she said on a breath. "Been a long time."

"It has. You're still gorgeous as ever," he complimented, winking at her.

She laughed awkwardly, casting a quick glance at Juice who looked ready to kick Greg's ass. "Thanks, Greg."

Greg nodded at Juice. "She yours now?" he asked.

Juice clenched his jaw as he nodded, one arm sliding possessively around her waist. "Yeah, she is."

"Guess Hap finally gave up tryin' to keep you out, huh? Never thought I'd see the day," Greg mused, a smug smirk on his face. Someone called his name from the garage, and he turned. "I gotta get goin'. I'll see you around, sweetheart."

Angela nodded, looking up at Juice as Greg walked away. His eyes lingered on Greg's back, his hand dropping from her waist. She could see the tension in his shoulders and jaw, knew he was upset. He glanced down at her, his dark eyes blazing with an angry fire. She knew he was mad, but she never thought it'd be at her. She hadn't done or said anything wrong.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, an annoyed tone to his voice.

"Nothing. I met Greg once in Tacoma when SAMTAC was on lockdown," she explained carefully. "We hit it off. Apparently, he remembers it."

"Apparently," he repeated on a scoff. He hadn't liked the way Greg was looking at her. Not one bit. It was as if he was undressing her with his eyes, something that made Juice suspicious as to how well they knew each other.

She studied his face, wondering how best to handle his anger in the midst of all of his brothers. Pushing to find out why he was angry was unwise. It could lead to a full blown fight and with Happy walking over to them as he was at that moment, it wasn't a good idea. This was between her and Juice, adding Happy into the mix would only make things worse. Instead, she ignored it and headed in her cousin's direction.

It wasn't until they got back home that he started in on his questioning. "What was that with Greg?" he repeated, his eyes following Angela as she sat on the couch with a sigh. After sniffing around Juice's legs and getting no reaction from him, Rigor padded his way over to her, jumping on the couch and laying his head on her lap.

"Nothing, Juice. Relax," she replied, trying to calm him down.

But Juice couldn't get the way Greg had looked at her out of his head. He was used to men checking Angela out, enjoyed seeing the jealous looks on their faces when he stepped in and laid a claim on her either with a hot kiss or a simple arm around the shoulders. But Greg's smug grin was bugging him. It was as if Greg knew something about her he didn't. And the way he'd asked if she was his now as if she'd belonged to someone else before... "Did you sleep with him?"

Angela grimaced, running a hand through her hair. "Juice..."

He sensed she was about to dodge the question. "Did you sleep with him? Yes or no?" he demanded.

"Why does it matter who I slept with in the past? I'm with you now," she said on a sigh, her hand stroking over Rigor's soft fur.

He ran a hand over his mohawk as he began to pace the room. Her answer was an affirmation of what he'd already guessed; yes, she had slept with the Nomad. "Jesus Christ, Angela," he cursed, shaking his head at her. "Why didn't you say anythin'?"

She winced at the use of her full name; he hadn't called her anything but Angel in months. "You didn't ask," she stated simply.

"I didn't think I had to ask! He's my brother!"

"It happened years ago! Must not have been very good. I didn't even remember it until I saw him!" she justified, on a laugh. She could see she wasn't getting anywhere with him, that he was still pissed, so she tried a different tactic. "It was a long time ago, Juice. Way before I met you. I was eighteen, dumb, and pissed at Hap and Koz."

"So you slept with Greg?"

"He was the only one who would talk to me!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms out to the side. "I didn't have anything to do with SAMTAC. The one time they go into lockdown, Koz makes sure I go too. The Old Ladies and sweetbutts pretty much ignored me, but Greg didn't. We spent a lot of time hanging out and drinking and then one thing led to another and I..."

Juice had never felt so frustrated. His head was reeling. Angela, his Angela, had slept with Greg the Peg. His good, sweet girl had been with one of his brothers before him. No longer was she that untouched girl he'd made his own. "Slept with him? Like some...some...sweetbutt?"

A black rage filled her at the word. Carefully, she lifted Rigor off her lap and set him on the ground before standing. She couldn't believe he went there. That he'd stoop so low as to associate her with them for sleeping with one of his brothers years ago. She was no biker slut. Hell, she could count the number of guys she'd slept with before him on one hand. Could he say the same about the Croweaters? She inhaled deeply through her nose, trying to keep it together. "Go to hell, Juice," she seethed, stepping around him and heading towards their room.

He'd regretted the words the instant he'd said them. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed at her wrist, pulling her to him. "Angel..."

She pulled it out of his grasp violently. "Don't touch me," she ground out, putting her hands flat on his chest and pushing him away from her.

The significance of her pushing him away hurt more than the physical action. He watched her walk away from him, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. He didn't know what had made him say it, what brought the comparison to mind. She wasn't the first Old Lady to bed more than one Son. He should be lucky she hadn't done it while they were together like Gemma had done to JT with Clay. Thinking of her with someone else had driven him over the edge. He winced as the door to their room slammed, the lock clicking into place.

He jogged down the hall, trying desperately to come up with the right thing to say. "Angel?" he said, knocking on the door. There was no answer. He put his forehead against the door, sighing heavily. "Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

The door ripped open, almost flying off the hinges. He wasn't surprised; Angela had never been one to shy away from her problems. She met them head on. The only reason she ever locked herself in their room was to cool off, to think things through. "Then why did you say it, huh?" she asked aggressively. "Where did that even come from?"

"I don't even know. I...I can't believe you slept with him. I can't. It's just...you're mine. And to think someone else has...touched you..." he shook his head, not knowing how best to finish that sentence. "It's driving me insane."

Angela's anger seemed to abate a little. She was starting understand where he was coming from, and though he was going to have to work hard to make up for calling her a sweetbutt; it wasn't her biggest concern. Juice had a habit of saying stupid things when he was upset, and while that wasn't an excuse, it made it just a little easier to forgive him. "Juice, I was no virgin when I met you. You know that, right?"

He sighed, running a hand over his hair. Of course he'd realized it. She was experienced between the sheets; had even taught him a thing or two...not that he'd ever admit it. "Yeah, I know, I know. I just thought I was the first..."

"Son?" she finished for him, her eyebrows raised. "Why does that matter? You don't seem to care that my first time was with a Mayan."

His eyes grew wide; he hadn't thought about that. It was rare he thought about who Angela had been with before him. Sure, he wondered what she was like as a kid, and Hap had shared a few stories while they were inside, but he'd never once thought about her teenage years. "Goddamn, Angel."

She folded her arms across her chest and shrugged. Nothing could make her ashamed of her past. She'd never been a slut. The handful of guys she'd let in her pants had been carefully chosen, guys she'd formed some kind of relationship and trust with first. "My life before you doesn't matter. Ever since I met you, the very day I met you...there hasn't been anyone else. Can you say the same?"

Juice gave her a guilty look. No, he couldn't. He'd still been having his fun with Croweaters until they'd had their first kiss. After that, Angela had invaded his thoughts, his life, and he hadn't wanted anyone else. "Angel..."

"I know you can't," she said calmly. It didn't bother her. The past was the past. There was nothing she could do to erase the dozens of croweaters in Juice's history. "And I know that you've slept with half the Croweaters at the clubhouse. But I don't give a shit. Is it annoying? Yeah, but I don't care because I have you now. You're mine. You have my name on your chest, and I trust you to stay faithful to me."

God, she was good at this talking thing. He sighed lengthily, feeling his anger deflate. She was right. The past was in the past. If she could look beyond his Croweater-colored past, he could certainly look past her tryst with Greg. "But Greg? Really?"

"Would you like me to go through the Croweaters?"

He scowled at her, shaking his head emphatically from side to side. "No," he answered, looking down at his feet. He looked back up at her with his big puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry for being an ass, Angel. I'm an idiot."

She gave him a small, trite smile. "Yeah, you are," she said, walking by him.

Juice watched her back, inwardly smacking himself for being such a big mouthed idiot. "You're still pissed, right?"

"Oh yeah," she answered on a nod.

He groaned in response, hanging his head down and rubbing at the back of his neck; he knew what that meant. "Am I sleeping on the couch tonight?"

Angela shrugged. "Night's not over yet. We'll see."

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

Juice lay on his back on his side of the bed. Rolling his head to the side, he glanced at Angela. She was curled up into a ball on her side, her back to him. Her loose camisole allowed him to see the scar on her back. His eyes traveled from that scar down to the one on her calf. Both scars were shiny and pink, marring her otherwise perfect caramel skin. Reaching out, he ran a finger over the scar on her back.

"Angel," he whispered, his finger still trailing over the small scar. Chloe had told him if the stab wound had been just a bit higher, if the blade hadn't been stopped by one of her ribs...he'd have lost her. He didn't know what he'd do without her. She was no common sweetbutt. She was his Old Lady, his baby Mama, his angel. He moved in closer, moving and arm around her waist as he curved his body around hers. "I'm sorry. You're not a sweetbutt. Not even close. I should've never compared you to one."

Her thin fingers traced over his arm, swirling over the Reaper inked across it. She'd had a few hours to think of how she wanted to handle this situation. He'd given her space, waiting patiently for her to figure shit out while they sat at separate ends of the couch watching Hell's Kitchen in total silence. She'd gone to bed first, completely drained physically and emotionally. It wasn't long until she felt the bed dip on his side. She ignored him at first, but when started touching her, it got increasingly hard to do so. Now here he was, apologizing again, and she could feel herself start to fold. "Yeah, that was dumb," she replied softly.

"I know," he agreed, kissing the bare skin of her shoulder. His thumb rubbed over her skin, feeling the firmness of her lower stomach. That was his kid in there. He may not have been her first sexual partner, but at least he was the first father of her kids. He hoped he'd be the first and only one to have that title. "He's the only other Son, though, right?"

"Yes," she said, turning in his arms  to face him.

"And that Mayan tool was the only Mayan?"

"Right."

"And Mel, right?"

Angela closed her eyes, breathing in a long breath as she nodded. "Yeah," she admitted softly on the exhale. She stopped her mind from going to those memories knowing they wouldn't lead to anything good. Thinking about Mel was starting to get easier, as Juice said it would.

"That it?"

"Two more. Just normal guys from Tacoma. One was a med student, Mel's best friend, and the other was in my program. Hap and Koz scared them both off," she admitted on a sigh. It was during the time period when she'd tried desperately to be normal and live away from Hap and his outlaw life. Happy hadn't taken too well to that. Happy didn't take too well to any man in her life, unfortunately. Juice was the only exception so far. "And then you. That's it. Want to lay out yours for me?"

Juice grimaced, a look she saw in the moonlight that spilled in through the window. She laughed lightly, shaking her head at him. "You know I can't," he said, frowning slightly. He reached out a hand and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "I can tell you how many mattered, though. I'll give you a hint...there's only one and she's in this room."

She rolled her eyes, pushing his hand away while she tried not to smile. "Goof!" she exclaimed, laughing as he pulled her in closer.

"Love you, Angel," he murmured, nuzzling his nose against her neck.

She smiled, her arm curling around his head, fingers scratching the top of his mohawk. The residual anger she felt had all but dissipated; it was always hard to stay angry at Juice. "You better," she replied, laughing as he started tickling her. She loved these playful moments filled with laughter. They were such a departure from the seriousness of his outlaw life. In these moments, she felt the most normal as if tomorrow would be just another day at work not a day filled with worrying about whether Juice was going to come home or not.

As if sensing the normality and needing it to end, Juice's prepay went off, putting a screeching halt to the sweet moment. He lay down on his back with a sigh, reaching a hand out to grab the phone. Angela watched him answer it, listening intently for any clues as to why someone was calling him so late and praying that it had nothing to do with her cousin.

He snapped the phone shut and set it back on the bedside table. "I got to go, Angel," he said, grunting as he sat up in the bed. "The guys got ambushed on the way back from the run."

Her eyes widened in shock, heart pounding in her ears. "Are they...is Hap..."

"Everyone's whole," he assured her quickly as he pulled on his pants. "But I gotta go."

He grabbed his knife off the dresser and clipped it onto his belt. Every movement was so practiced; it reminded Angela of a fireman getting ready to go out on a call. "Be safe, Juice," she said, her eyes on him as he shrugged into his cut.

Nodding, he caught her lips in a quick kiss. "See you in the morning. Get some sleep, all right?" he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek. He kissed her once more. "Love you."

"Love you too," she replied, sighing sadly as she watched him walk away, the Reaper disappearing as he turned down the hall.

Once the door had closed, she heard the sound of little paws making their way towards her before a little whine filled the room. She smiled, leaning over the side of the bed and scooping Rigor up into her arms. She knew Juice was training him to stay off the bed, and that starting this habit was one she'd regret when Rigor reached his full size, but at that moment, she didn't really care. She needed someone to cuddle with. "I won't tell dad if you don't," she bargained with the puppy, kissing his soft head. Rigor licked her face as if he understood before stretching out beside her.