Bones had a white knuckled grip on the van's door handle as Angela barreled through the sleeping town of Charming heading to the highway. "W-where are we going?" he stammered out, watching the town pass by in a blur. He shut his eyes tightly as she sped through a yellow light.

"Oakland. There's a pick up. Not sure what we're getting into, but I need you to have my back on this, you understand?" Angela asked, speeding down the highway. At his quick nod, she continued, "None of what you see leaves this van. Keep your head down, only speak when spoken to, and stay in the van. I trust you with my life but the rest of 'em don't know you like I do. Can I trust you to stay quiet, Leonard?"

He knew she was serious when she used his real name. Whatever they were about to head into, it wasn't something he could joke about. "Is it dangerous?"

"No," she said, though her voice wasn't as sure as he'd like it to be. "We're gonna be fine. He wouldn't call me over if there was any danger. I just need you to listen to me, okay? None of this male bravado shit. I tell you to do something, you do it."

"Yeah, yeah, got it. Totally. I'm your slave," he said, his voice shaking as he ran a palm over his buzzed head. He'd never seen his mentor so serious, so intense. Before he'd wondered how she fit into the outlaw question; now, he knew. His lighthearted, carefree mentor had a badass streak in her. "Whatever you need. You know that. And I won't talk, Ang. My lips are totally sealed."

Angela nodded, pressing a little harder on the accelerator. She didn't know what Tig had done or what they were about to go into, but for him to call her out of the blue like that, sounding like he did, it had to be something serious.

When they finally got to the quiet train yard in Oakland, she pulled in next to the TM towtruck. She glanced out the window, straining her eyes until she could just make out the outline of a person sitting along the edge of some kind of ditch. The Reaper stared back at her in the dim light of the street lamps. "Tig," she breathed, relief in her voice. She dug through her bag, grabbing her gun, and holding it out to Bones. "Quick lesson. Point this part at the bad guy and pull the trigger. Brace yourself for the kickback and don't let it hit you in the face."

"Why?"

"Cuz it'll hurt, dummy!" she said, hopping down from the car. "Watch my back, Boner. You see anyone lookin' shady, yell for me first. If I duck, you shoot. Got it?"

He nodded slowly, the gun held in his open palm. At her worried look, he sucked in a deep breath, trying to be brave. Curling his fingers around the handle of the gun, he held it up. "Got it, boss."

She gave him a nervous smile before hopping out of the van and closing the door behind her. "Tig?" she called out to the lone figure sitting there.

When she was closer, she found him staring at his hands, his cheeks wet with tears. He looked up at her, his clear blue eyes glassy. "Angie, they...they killed my little girl," he choked. "They burned my little girl."

She looked into the storage container, her stomach churning when she saw its contents. Black gangsters dressed in purple under a badly burned corpse that was under a fresher body of an old man and what looked like someone from law enforcement. "Holy shit," she gasped, her hand covering her mouth in shock. "What happened here?"

"He lit her on fire," Tig repeated, shaking his head as a silent tear slipped down his face as he looked up at her. Without a word, she lowered herself to sit next to him. He didn't acknowledge her presence, but he didn't push her away as she thought he might . "I watched her burn," he said, his voice low and rough. "And then I killed them all."

Angela grimaced at the image of it but remained silent. Her hand rubbed up and down over the Reaper on his back. She stared at the mass of bodies beneath them. "Mr. Dowd?" she said, looking at the older, white haired man lying atop the bodies.

"You knew 'im?"

"He's an older cleaner," she replied on a nod. "He was a sexist dick though. Wouldn't let me work with him 'cause, apparently women are meant to be in the kitchen."

Tig scowled at that. He could still see the older man's watery eyes as he begged for his life. He hadn't paid his pleas any mind; the old man was just as much a part of Dawn's death as everyone else in the pit was. They'd called the old man in to make his daughter disappear, vanish without a trace with no grave or marker to pay tribute to her life. It was the reason he'd called Angela. He knew Happy's cousin would give Dawn the send off she deserved; she'd been able to do so for all of the past club related deaths. "Asshole," he muttered under his breath. "You'll take care of her, right? I don't want her to burn any more. Find her a nice place...some sun maybe."

"Yeah, of course, Tig. I'll make sure she's somewhere pretty," she assured him, searching through her head for an open plot. It took her a moment, but she came up with the ideal spot for Dawn. "You call your brothers yet?"

Tig bobbed his head up and down in answer; they'd been his first call. "They're on their way."

They sat in silence for what felt like hours before the sound of tires on gravel broke it. Looking over her shoulder, Angela was relieved to see Jax's blonde head at the wheel of the large blue truck. She looked back at Tig who was still staring at the carnage beneath them. Carefully, she got to her feet, using his shoulder as leverage.

Jax nodded to her in greeting. "What the hell happened?"

"Someone set his daughter on fire," Angela answered, softly. She cast a glance over her shoulder in time to see Tig put his head in his hands.

"Shit," Jax breathed, running a hand over his face. "He call you to take care of her?"

Angela nodded. "Yeah. I got my apprentice in the car...I'd rather not get him out to lift the body. He doesn't need to see what's in there," she explained before looking at the curly haired man next to her. Last she'd heard, Bobby had been in prison. She'd never been particularly close with him, but he'd always been nice to her so it was nice to see he'd gotten out unscathed.

"What's in there?" he asked as Jax and Chibs went to go talk to Tig.

"Gangsters, a cop, and an old man," she rattled off on a sigh. "The smell of decomp is masked by the smell of the...fire."

"Your apprentice can't handle that?"

She shook her head slowly. "I don't want to explain why there are so many bodies, if you catch my drift. I trust that kid with my life, but the less he knows the better."

Bobby clapped her on the shoulder, giving it a good squeeze. "Good thinkin'. We're gonna give him a minute with her and then we'll load her up."

"I'll wait by the van. Let you guys...discuss," she said, glancing over at the van. Bones was looking down at his hands; no doubt playing a game on his phone. Some lookout he was. She smiled at Bobby. "Good to see you out, Bobby."

"Good to be out, sweetheart. Thanks for all this."

She shrugged a shoulder as if it was no big deal. "Happy to help."

"Stay close," he said before heading towards Tig.

Angela headed towards the van, opening the door to find Bones just as she expected she would, iPhone in hands, tapping away. "Thanks for watching my back."

"Oh! I was! Until I saw the guys pull in. Then I remembered you wanted me to keep my nose down so I was staring at my feet and then I decided you'd probably be okay if I played with my phone so I'm doing that," he explained, his words coming out a mile a minute.

"Trek fanfiction?"

"I don't..." he tried to deny it, but at her knowing look, he folded. "Yeah. Found a good one."

Angela smirked, shaking her head at him as she slipped into the van. "Always nice when that happens."

Bones nodded in agreement, his fingers tapping nervously on the window sill. "So...um...are we...leaving?"

She glanced over to where the Sons had just picked up the body and were currently carrying her towards the van. "Yeah. They're loading the body now."

"Does it smell?"

"Not decomp. Just badly burned," she explained on a heavy sigh. She was tempted to tell Bones exactly what had happened, but she knew it wasn't a wise thing to do; she wanted him far away from club drama. The back doors opened quickly and with a few grunts, the Sons managed to get the body into the back before closing the doors.

Chibs walked around to the front while the rest of the guys headed back to the van. He knew Angela the best, thus was the message man. "Yer good ta go, Angie-girl," he said, leaning into the car, one hand on the roof. "Send us the bill later, yeah?"

Angela rolled her eyes; as if she'd charge them for something like this. "Not a chance."

"Figured as much. Yer a good girl, love," he said on a sad smile. He dug in his cut for a second and pulled out a card. "Get the lad to do her up. You call Tara on the private. Tell her to call Rosen and meet us here in the mornin'. Understand?"

She took the card from him, studying the intricate logo and shiny black ink. "Diosa?" she asked, curiously.

"Ye hear me, girly?" he replied in a tone that made it clear he wasn't going to answer any more questions.

"Yeah, yeah. Got it," she said, tucking the card into her pocket.

Chibs patted her cheek lovingly. "Good girl." He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I'll see ye later. Drive safe. Take care a her. Take care a you."

"Will do," she said closing van door. She started up the van, waiting for Chibs to step away before heading out. Bones started to look over his shoulder, but she stopped him with a loud, "Don't!"

"I don't want to know, I don't want to know," he chanted to himself a few times. He scratched at the back of his neck for a brief moment as if contemplating what else to say. "Fuck it. What's back there?"

"You don't want to know," Angela replied with a smirk.

Bones shook his head at his mentor. "Had a feeling you'd say that."

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

Juice wasn't surprised when he got home from Clay and Gemma's ransacked house and Angela wasn't there. Chibs had called him to explain the situation, and he, in turn, told him that Gemma's house had been broken into and Unser had taken quite a beating. The home invasions were starting to get closer and closer to the club. First with one of their mechanics, then with a Croweater, now Gemma. He was starting to think investing in a guard dog when he did had been a stroke of luck. He wasn't full grown yet, but Juice had a feeling Rigor would put up quite a fight against an intruder.

After giving Rigor a bit of food and some love, he threw himself into bed with a tired sigh. Driving Clay around and making sure he took his meds was exhausting. Not to mention the pearls of wisdom Clay was bestowing upon him kept messing with his head. Every time they talked it seemed Angela came up and every time, Clay told him that committing to her at such a young age was a bad idea. He'd never even thought about how young they both were until Clay put it out there. In fact, he'd thought he was at the perfect age to settle down. That's what Jax was doing, what Opie had already done...twice now.

A smile crossed his face when he heard the front door open and close before the dead bolt clicked into place; she was home. He heard her greeting Rigs, her voice the same tone she used when talking to Thomas and Abel. The same he expected she would use for their own child when the time came. He honestly couldn't wait.

The bedroom door opened and he closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep for a brief moment so as to give her some time to get ready for bed. "I know you're awake, goofy," Angela said, a smile in her voice. "You're too quiet to be sleeping."

He opened his eyes, giving her his full fledged grin as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch her. "Hey baby," he greeted, noting the slight slump to her shoulders. He watched her brush her teeth and unbraid her hair, trying to catch any sign of how she was feeling. He'd been surprised when Chibs told him Tig had called Angela directly to ask for her help. He'd have thought the guys would just deliver the body to her. It made sense in a way, Tig wanted to make sure his daughter was taken care of in the best way possible, and Angela would do exactly that.

When she was close enough, he reached out an arm to her. She climbed onto the bed and snuggled in close to him, her cheek on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "You all right?" he asked, his fingers combing through her wet hair; she must've taken a shower at the funeral home. "Heard you had a...crazy night."

She nodded slowly. "I can't...I can't wrap my head around what kind of sicko would burn someone's daughter in front of them. Someone who would want to hurt the club so badly they went after someone's daughter."

Juice could see where her mind was going; she was thinking of their kid. Of how something like this could easily happen to them. "It was retaliation for somethin' Tig did. He messed with the wrong guy. Had nothin' to do with the club...not really," he explained, giving her the bare bones of the situation and hoping it would soothe her worries. "I'm going to keep you safe, Angel. I promise you that. Our kid is never...ever going to be put in that situation. I won't make that mistake. I won't put my family in danger."

She nodded, swallowing hard as her finger traced over her name that was inked on his pec. "I was scared today, Juice," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I looked into this...this pit filled with dead bodies and I realized that this...this is my life. I mean, I've seen some crazy stuff working with Bachman in the past but...nothing like that. This is...it's a whole other level now. You guys aren't just sending me bad guys to burn anymore. These are...these are people I know. These are family members, and I worry that...that one night it'll be Hap or...you."

He heard her voice catch at the end and felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. "I'm gonna to do my best to make sure that doesn't happen," he whispered, his eyes on hers. "I promise."

"Okay," she breathed, trying to keep it together. She hated how she didn't have control over her emotions; that the hormones made her cry at the drop of a hat. It made her feel vulnerable in a way she wasn't comfortable with. "God, these hormones are killin' me."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His warm hand moved to her belly, sliding over the soft skin. "Monk makin' you crazy?"

"Always," she said on a light laugh. "I have a feeling it won't change when they're older either."

A small whine was heard from Angela's side of the bed. She pulled away from Juice, rolling onto her side and finding two dark eyes staring back at her. She offered Rigs her hand, smiling when the young pup nuzzled it. He'd obviously heard her sniffling and came over to make sure she was all right. "I'm okay, Rigs," she said, petting his head.

Juice watched as Rigor put his front legs up on the side of the mattress as if asking to be lifted up onto it. The pup had never done that before. Mostly because he'd been adamant about keeping Rigor off the bed since the pup first stepped foot in the house. As much as he loved his dog, he was not a big fan of sleeping in dog hair or sharing his big comfy bed with a dog that was sure to be huge once he was full grown if his large paws were any indication. "You let him sleep on the bed, didn't you?" he asked, looking over Angela's shoulder at Rigor.

Angela shrugged a shoulder, still scratching behind Rigor's ears. "Maybe," she replied guiltily. "Its just...look at him! How can you say no to this little face?"

"Pushover," he teased. "That little face is going to be a big one soon and this bed's gonna feel a whole lot smaller."

She frowned in response, smoothing her hand over Rigor's head. "Not tonight, Rigs. Daddy doesn't like to share," she explained before leaning back into Juice's chest. Rigor whined a bit before walking away, no doubt to head to his own fluffy bed. "One day that's going to be our kid coming in here and wanting to share. What are you going to do then?"

Juice smiled at the thought, pressing a kiss to Angela's shoulder. He still couldn't believe he was going to be a father. "Pretend to be asleep so you have to tell 'em no."

"Oh really?" she said on a laugh, smiling as his lips moved across her shoulder and to her neck.

"Mm-hmm," he said, his hand sliding down over the hard bump of her belly and dipping under her boyshort panties. "Daddy needs his private time with Mama. If you know what I'm gettin' at."

A soft moan left her lips as his fingers inched lower; she knew exactly what he was getting at.

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

"You're coming with me, right?" Juice asked the next morning as he watched Angela pull on a pair of very tight jeans.

She struggled with the button for a minute but managed to get it done. "What?" she asked, looking up at him with a triumphant smile. She knew she'd have to retire the jeans soon so she was taking every chance she could to wear them.

"Hap and I were talkin' and after what happened to Dawn and Unser, we think it'd be a good idea for you to stay with Tara up where the guys are."

Angela frowned in response. "What happened to Unser?"

"Someone broke into Gemma's house. He was stayin' the night. They beat the shit outta him," he explained, watching as the situation slowly sank in. He knew she was starting to understand his request. "We don't know who's next, Angel. It's a safety precaution."

She let out a long sigh but nodded. As much as she wished she could stay away from club matters like this, she could see his point. Though she didn't think anyone would come after her, she'd rather be safe than sorry. "Damn," she cursed, running a hand through her hair. " Okay. I'll have Boner finish what he can and let Skeet know."

"Thanks, baby," he said, catching her lips in a sweet kiss.

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head as she put lotion on her arms, rubbing it into her hands. She studied the claddagh Juice had given her so long ago, contemplating the pretty silver ring. Chibs had explained the meaning behind the symbol: friendship, loyalty, and love. She wondered if Juice had known what it meant when he gave it to her, or if it had just been a random trinket Chibs' daughter had suggested. Whatever the case, she felt it was an accurate symbol of their relationship. It was her favorite piece of jewelry. He'd mentioned giving her a new ring, one with a rock. She worried it would change everything the old ring stood for. The old ring meant less of a commitment; it didn't suffocate either of them the way a new ring would.

His hand engulfed hers, hiding her ring from view. "Lost ya for a second there," he said, his thumb rubbing over her ring. "Where'd you go?"

A light blush colored her cheeks at being caught lost in her thoughts. Standing on her toes, she pressed a kiss to his lips. "Just thinkin'," she admitted, giving him a smile. "Where we goin' anyway? What's this mysterious Diosa place?"

"Not sure yet. Its some guy Jax knows' place. We're gonna meet with Lowen there and figure shit out," he explained, shrugging on his cut. She straightened it for him, doing up some of the buttons while she listened to him talk. "Gotta go to the clubhouse first. Meet up with Hap and Frankie."

"Mmkay. Just...don't leave me alone with Hap," she said, her palms smoothing over his patches.

Juice raised an eyebrow. That was an odd request; she usually loved talking to her cousin. "Why?"

"He's been trying to convince me to call our moms, and I'm not going to," she said stubbornly.

He pulled a face at that one; Happy had also told him that he best start trying to convince his Old Lady to reach out or else he'd come in, throw her over his shoulder, and take her to his mom and aunt's house himself. "Yeah...about that..."

"Don't start with me, Juan Carlos," she cut him off quickly, anger bleeding into her voice. "I did nothing wrong. If anything, they should be calling me to apologize."

Juice sighed, knowing she was right. "I know, baby, but like Happy says, you don't know how much longer your aunt's got."

"I know. I just...I thought I was going to make them happy with our news, y'know? My Ma's been on me to have kids since I was old enough to," she asked, hanging her head down. "I thought for once they'd be...proud of me. That I wouldn't be a total disappointment."

He stroked her cheek with his fingers, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "You're not a disappointment, Angel. This is all on me. I should've...I mean...do you want to..."

"Don't do that right now," she said softly, stopping his train of thought. "Not because of my family."

"I want to do this, Angel. I love you. I know that. What are we waiting for? Taking this step will make everything better."

"That," she interrupted pointing at him. "That's why I don't want to do it. What if it doesn't make everything better, Juice? What if it makes everything worse? Getting engaged, getting married. That's...that's...that's a big commitment. 'Til death."

The doubt in her voice cut him like a knife. Why didn't she want to get married? Did she not think he could handle that kind of commitment? Did she not trust him? "Why don't you want to marry me?"

"Because it's not a cure-all, Juice! You want to use it as this...this bandaid that can just fix everything and that's not how it works!" she shouted before taking a deep breath to regain her calm. "I love you, Juice, and I want to be with you for as long as you'll have me, but..."

"But you don't think I can do it, do you?" he asked, hurt bleeding into his tone. "You don't think I can commit. Jesus, Angela, how many more years do I have to stay faithful for you to get it?"

She wanted to tell him that she trusted him, that she knew he wouldn't cheat on her, but something made her hesitate. "It's not about that," she said, trying to steer the conversation to the right path. "I want you to marry me because you want to. Not because of my mom, my aunt, or Hap or because you think it'll fix everything because it won't...we'll just end up hating each other in the end."

Juice sighed, rubbing a hand over his mohawk. "I want to marry you."

"You keep saying that but the only time you ever bring up proposing is when the fact we're not married is thrown in our faces," she said bluntly. She raked her hands through her hair, feeling like a total bitch but knowing it had to be said. "Do you even have a ring?"

He looked down at his feet, caught. No, he didn't have a ring. He had done some internet research on them and had a few saved on his bookmarks, but he hadn't gone so far as to order one. "No, not yet," he admitted, feeling guilty as hell. She was right, and he knew it. If he was at all serious about marrying her, he'd have already found out her ring size and had the damn thing shipped. "But I can get one."

"Why do you want to rush this, Juice?"

He knew exactly why. Because he was scared as hell that he was going to do something to fuck it up and knew if they were married, it'd be harder for her to take his child and leave. "I don't...I just want to make things right," he lied.

She gave him a small smile, tugging him closer by the front of his cut and placing a sweet kiss on his lips. "This is right. Right for us. That's all that really matters. Okay?"

Juice nodded, sighing heavily as he put his forehead to hers. "Yeah, baby," he agreed, looking into her brown eyes. He found strength in her dark stare, the way he always did. She was his girl, he knew that. Ring or not, they were going to be together for as long as he could hold onto her.