Angela woke to the sound of her alarm blaring; she'd set it for earlier than usual, knowing she had a lot to do before Donna's funeral. She scrawled a quick note for Juice, pressing her lips to it to leave a lipstick kiss before getting dressed into a simple outfit of yoga pants, a t-shirt, and one of Juice's sweatshirts. She'd made sure her suit was pressed and looking good, tucking it into a garment bag so that it was ready for the day. She didn't bother with making coffee, knowing she could make it at the funeral home if Skeeter hadn't already. The town of Charming was peaceful as she drove through it towards the funeral home. The hearse was parked in front of the garage in the back. It was sparkling clean. Clearly, Skeeter had gotten up even early to make sure it immaculate for Donna. When she walked in, she was greeted with the smell of coffee. Smiling, she headed towards main lobby to find Skeeter setting up prayer cards and arranging fresh flower bouquets. "Morning Skeet," she greeted, going towards the office.

"Mornin' Ang," he replied, taking a step away from the center table. He gestured towards it. "Prayer cards came out great. Bouquets are beautiful too. Arrangements have been comin' in since last night. Got some set up around the gravesite already."

She picked up one of the prayer cards, smiling sadly at the picture of Donna on it. On the back were lyrics to 'Forever Young' by Bob Dylan that Opie himself had chosen. "Yeah," she agreed, tucking one into her sweatshirt pocket. She glanced at Skeeter who had a kind of manic energy to him. "Espresso or Redbull?"

"Got a Red-Eye at the bakery," he stated, swiping a shaking had over his head. "Got you one too. And that croissant you like so much. Got a tea for your little friend out there. Two of 'em today."

Angela grabbed the coffee from her desk, taking a long sip and relaxing as warm drink hit her tongue. "Two?" she inquired, grabbing a pastry and the extra cup. She bit into the croissant as she took a seat at her desk, checking on her usual things.

"Think Jax is out there too."

She stopped what she was doing, pushing away from the desk. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Walked by there to make sure he was breathin'. Tried to get him to move, but he almost knocked me out. Stinks like booze. Not sure what happened there."

Angela raised an eyebrow wondering if this had something to do with the girl the guys had gone after the night before. Maybe he hadn't gotten there in time and was drowning in his own guilt. Maybe he had and something worse had happened. "Guess I'll head out there and check."

She grabbed the extra coffee and another pastry from the little pastry box with some napkins before heading towards the cemetery. She stopped beside where the local homeless woman was sitting with her belongings. The woman was without her usual grey blanket and had Jax's sweatshirt on instead. Her eyes were on Jax, who was laying on the steps of one of the crypts, an empty bottle of booze beside him, the woman's blanket covering him. "Breakfast?" Angela asked, offering her the coffee and pastry. Most days, the woman took it but every so often, she waved her off.

The woman accepted it today, taking the offerings with dirtied hands. "Thanks, sweetheart," she said in her raspy voice.

Angela nodded, taking a sip of her own coffee. "He been out here all night?"

"Yeah. Came in drunk. Bloody face. Passed out a few hours ago," she answered on a nod.

Angela nodded, approaching him wearily. She nudged his leg with her foot. "Teller, wake up," she muttered, wrinkling her nose at the stench of alcohol. He muttered something drunkenly and pulled the blanket closer around him. After a few more attempts, she gave up and nodded towards the woman. "You mind keepin' an eye on him for a bit longer? I got a big service I need to prep for, and he's not budging."

"You got it," she agreed on a nod, toasting her with her coffee cup.

"Thanks." Angela lifted her cup back at her before heading back to the funeral home. She wasn't really worried about Jax for the moment; he was in a safe space with no one to bother him, and she had way too much to do to babysit his drunk ass.

~'~'~'~~'~~'~'~'~'~

Juice watched as the hearse pulled into the SAMCRO compound, Angela in the driver's seat. Apparently, it was a tradition to have a viewing at the clubhouse and then a full escort to the cemetery for any club death. It was a silly tradition, especially since Donna wasn't the club's biggest fan, but Angela had made sure it was all well planned. When he'd woken up that morning, she'd already been gone. A small note left on her pillow just for him telling him she loved him with a lipstick kiss on it. He'd stuck it in the pocket of his cut right next to a pair of her lacy panties.   

Angela got out of the hearse, and he clenched his jaw to keep it from dropping. He knew they were going to a funeral, but she looked stunning in her black suit with a low cut navy blouse underneath it and simple black heels. He'd seen her in her business clothes before, but this full suit was new and perfectly tailored to flatter every curve of her body. He headed her way, eager to get his hands on her. "Hey you," she greeted, messing with the little snap on one of his cut pockets as his hands settled on the flare of her hips.

"Hey baby," he replied, dipping his head to give her a chaste kiss. "Missed you this morning."

"Figured one of us should sleep in a little," she said, the corners of her lips turning up just a little. "You good?"

He knew she was referring to the little breakdown he'd had the night before about the seventeen year old girl. He'd already put that behind him, though. Happy had explained what had gone down and, thankfully, Jax got there in time to let the girl go free. "Yeah. All worked out."

Relief washed over her face and she nodded slowly. "Good," she said, glancing over his shoulder for a brief moment before stepping away from him. He looked behind him to see Clay heading their way. He understood why she pulled away now; she was in work mode and wanted to look professional.

"Undertaker, a word?" Clay asked, looking between them.

Juice nodded, moving to stand beside Chibs. He watched with pride as Angela explained everything to Clay. Gesturing towards the hearse and the road as she spoke. Finally, she went to the back of the hearse, pulling out the big orange 'funeral' stickers for them to stick on their bikes for the procession and handing them to Clay. Clay nodded slowly before he slapped Angela on the shoulder in 'thanks' and turned to the group. "All right, boys, listen up," Clay called out to the group of bikers gathered there.

Juice didn't bother listening to him; Angela had already explained it all to him. He sidled up next to her, moving his arm around her shoulders. He'd noticed a few brothers from out of town eyeing her, and he wanted to reiterate that she was his. It was a possessive move he thought she might have an issue with. She didn't, though; she just leaned into his side and looked up at him, giving him the option of kissing her should he want to further prove who she belonged to. He smirked, using his free hand to cup her cheek before pressing his lips to hers. "Love you," he murmured, kissing her forehead.

"Love you too," she replied with the smallest hint of a smile. She nodded towards where his brothers were getting on their bikes. "Go. SAMCRO first, then the hearse, then the rest of 'em."

He nodded, squeezing her shoulder and heading towards his bike. Clay stopped him, handing him a sticker. "Your girl did good," he stated, slapping him on the shoulder. He extended a hand with a small wad of what appeared to be hundred dollar bills in it. "Thank her again for me, will ya?"

A sense of pride filled him at his President's words. He was always proud of Angela but hearing praise for her from someone he admired only made the feeling stronger. Juice shook his hand, taking the cash from him in the process. "Yeah, thanks, Clay."

Clay didn't say another word as he walked towards his motorcycle to lead the way to the cemetery. Juice got on his bike, starting it up and getting behind the rest of his brothers. Together, they headed towards Main Street. He was last in the SAMCRO grouping, riding beside Half-Sack because that's where his seniority was. It didn't bother him. It meant he was in front of the hearse, in front of Angela. Right where he was supposed to be between his club and his girl.

~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~

Angela let Skeeter take the lead at the ceremony in the cemetery. He'd done a great job making sure the chairs were perfectly set up and the gravesite looked clean and neat. Initially, she went to stand beside Juice, but when she saw Opie staring unfocused at the grave while Kenny and Ellie were crying, she'd pushed her way through the crowd to stand behind the kids. Someone had to be there to comfort them. They couldn't go through this alone. She reached down, squeezing both of their shoulders to let them know she was there. 

She spotted Jax walking in mid-ceremony. She was grateful to see he appeared somewhat sober, though their was blood staining his shirt, bruises on his face. He looked exhausted and almost angry. She wondered what the hell had happened the night before? Tara grabbed Jax's cut from Juice, approaching Jax slowly. They were just a few feet away from the ceremony, but in full view of the entire gathering. She had no doubt everyone was watching as the VP slid on his cut before giving Tara a kiss in front of the whole crowd that felt a little too intimate for the middle of a funeral. There was obvious tension in the air as Jax put a flower on the top of Donna's casket glaring at Clay as he did so before disappearing back into the cemetery.

The ceremony continued smoothly. Skeeter lowered Donna's casket into the grave just as people started to disperse, heading towards the funeral home for a small reception. She gave Kenny and Ellie a quick hug before pushing them to go with their father. She was pleased to see he allowed them each to grab one of his hands as they walked together. Angela lingered behind at the grave, not really wanting to dive into the reception; Skeeter was on that detail. She didn't want to have to play host for this one.

She stayed at the foot of the grave, staring at the wreaths of flowers that circles it. They were beautiful and diverse. Sent to the funeral home from charters across the country. All in blues and whites.  As usual, she sense Juice's presence behind her before she saw him. He moved next to her, standing with his hands in his pockets. "I dunno how you do this every day," he murmured softly. She glance over at him, surprised to see his eyes slightly glassy. "This is some heavy shit."

Angela shrugged a shoulder. "I usually don't know the person," she answered honestly. "Makes it easier. See it as helping families through their grief. Makes it kinda rewarding. This shit? With someone I know? This has been fuckin' hard. Hope I never have to do it again."

Juice nodded, moving an arm around her shoulders and bringing her into his side. He pressed his lips to her temple holding them there for a long moment. "Can't guarantee that," he said on a frown before he stared at wooden casket. "I do know that's never gonna be you. Be me before it'll ever be you."

She elbowed him gently before moving her arms around his waist. "Don't say that shit. Neither of us are gonna end up like this, okay? Not until we're old and gray."

"Together, right?" he asked with the sweetest little smile. 

Angela loved the idea of growing old with him and knew the second he said it that she wanted that. Wanted to grow old with him and start a family. Build a home. They were meant to be. Had been from the moment they meant. She was sure of it. Lifting a bit on her toes, she tapped he forehead to his before kissing him softly. "Yeah, baby. Together."

~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~'~

And so ends season 1....

Definitely have some stuff I want to put in between season 1/2! And some big ideas for S2/S3! Hopefully, y'all will like it!

Also, I'm still working on "This Love" but need a little inspo, so if there's any "one shots" you want to see, let me know! :)

💜