Angela walked into the new little flower shop downtown that Gemma had sent her to. She'd been trying to make arrangements to get wedding flowers from the flower store two towns over that they typically got funeral wreaths and bouquets from, but the woman running it had recently broken up with her boyfriend and was staunchly against love and weddings, so she'd given her a ridiculous quote for how much they'd cost. Angela hoped this new place was willing to do it for a relatively decent price.

Walking into the quaint little shop, she let out a sigh of relief. The bouquets were fresh and beautiful, and the shop being right in Charming meant the flowers wouldn't wilt by the time they got to the venue. She smiled at a brightly colored bouquet with stunning tiger lilies; her favorite. It looked like the bouquet that had showed up on her doorstep with a little note from Juice, though it was written in Kozik's handwriting. She couldn't remember when she'd told Juice they were her favorite flowers, but he always got them for her. Even when they were just friends, he'd surprise her with a random tiger lily he'd found somewhere. She was always shocked by how he remembered the little things about her.

"Aren't those gorgeous? Lilies are often used to symbolize love," a voice said from behind her.

Angela looked over her shoulder to see a woman who looked a few years older than she was and was dressed impeccably in a blue blouse and white pants with a white apron around her waist. "They're my favorite," she told her with a small smile. "Are you the owner?"

She nodded, holding out her hand. "Rita Roosevelt."

"Angela Ruiz," she replied, shaking her hand. "I'm one of the morticians over at Dubrowski's funeral home. Very excited to have a flower shop nearby."

"I was actually going to go over there to introduce myself," Rita stated with a welcoming smile. "See if there was something I could do to encourage you guys to recommend my shop."

Angela loved that idea. Working at a family owned business herself, she was all for supporting a another local place. "Done. Do you have like a business card or something? I'll make them handy. Our families will love having something local. All the other shops are far away and sometimes the arrangements get a little droopy."

"Perfect! I can bring over an arrangement or two for display if you want."

"Yes, please! C'mon over!" she exclaimed, excited to have more color at the funeral home. It would be nice to replace the silk flowers in the entry way with something real. "We'll take whatever you got. And also..."

She was about to tell Rita about the wedding when the new Lieutenant walked in. Charming Police Department had been replaced by the San Joaquin Sheriff's Office, and this guy was the one in charge of the small town. She hadn't heard much about him, but he looked tougher than the usual cops they saw around Charming. She'd heard Kozik voice his worry that the new Lieutenant could make things a hell of a lot harder on the club since they'd lost their law enforcement tie when Unser was kicked out. Angela's shoulders tensed; what could he be doing at the flower shop of all places?

"Hey honey!" Rita greeted with a big smile. "Angela, this is my husband, Eli. Eli, this is Angela Ruiz, she's one of the morticians over at the funeral home."

Angela was instantly glad she didn't mention her wedding to Rita. Having the lieutenant's wife making flower arrangements for a wedding filled with outlaws didn't seem like the best idea ever. It'd be an easy way for them to bug the arrangements, and she had a feeling there was going to be more than one illegal discussion taking place at the event. She forced a smile on her face as she shook Eli's hand. "Nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

"You too, Ms. Ruiz," he replied with a friendly smile.

"Oh, Angela's fine," she corrected with a nod. There was an awkward silence for a beat before her phone went off, the sound of the Imperial March from Star Wars filling the air which meant it was either her mother or Gemma calling. She was willing to bet it was the latter; her mother didn't call very often. Checking her phone, she fought against a grimace; it was Gemma. "I gotta grab this, but it was nice meeting you both," she told them, grabbing a card from her wallet. "Here's my card. We'll be in touch."

"See you around, Angela," Rita said with a wave as Eli nodded a goodbye.

The phone conversation was quick; Gemma just wanted her to meet her at TM so they could discuss some new wedding idea she had. Angela grabbed two salads from the local deli for both of them before heading over to the garage.

Gemma was working with a customer in one of the garage bays when she got there, so she let herself into the office and took a seat on the couch to wait for her. She had no idea what the Queen wanted and didn't really want to talk about wedding shit with her. The only reason she was keeping Gemma in the loop was because Juice had asked her to. That, and Gemma actually had good connections in Charming, which meant they were saving a hell of a lot of money on the wedding.

Grabbing her salad, she starting eating when the door from the office to the garage opened, and Miles strode in. Angela didn't hide her frown as she munched her food. She was friendly with most of the Sons, but, for some reason, Miles creeped her the hell out. She didn't like him nor did she trust him. She pretended not to notice him as she continued eating.

"What's up, Angel?"

She wrinkled her nose; there was only one person allowed to call her that, and it certainly wasn't Miles. "Angel-la," she corrected as she opened her bottle of water.

"My apologies, Angel-la," he said mockingly. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," she said after a quick sip of water. She summoned all of her patience and forced herself to remain neutral; she could be polite and civil. For now. "How are you?"

Miles leaned his shoulder against the doorway trying his best to look suave and failing. "Just working," he answered nonchalantly. He straightened out his cut a bit, his eyes raking over her in a way that made her feel awfully naked despite the t-shirt and jeans she was wearing. "How you holdin' up with Juice gone?"

Angela shrugged in response. She wasn't holding up well. Sleep had evaded her, and her heart ached with longing for her fiancé, but she wasn't about to say that to Miles. "Fantastic," she replied sarcastically. "Just saw him the other day. Probably go back tomorrow."

"Gotta be hard to...get your needs fulfilled with him being so far away, if you know what I mean," he stated with a smirk that hinted his statement was hinting at her sex life. "You know, there's this prison clause and..."

She held up at hand with a scowl, her stomach turning. There was no way in hell she'd ever take anyone up on that stupid clause. The thought alone disgusted her. "Gonna stop you right there. I love Juice, and I'm gonna marry him. Not going to mess that up ever. I get my needs fulfilled very well all on my own," she said, glaring daggers at him just as the office door opened. She didn't bother turning to see who it was, she didn't trust Miles enough to take her eyes off of him. "Just leave me alone."

"Easy, undertaker," Gemma said from the doorway. Angela turned slightly towards her, and the Queen's hazel eyes studied her face for a moment before she glanced over at Miles. "You good?"

Angela hesitated before nodding. "Fine. Miles was educating me on the prison clause," she replied, glaring again at the other man.

Gemma crossed her arms over her chest, cocking one hip to the side as she addressed Miles, "Leave the undertaker alone and get back to work."

Miles dipped his head and stammered out, "Y-yes Gemma."

Gemma waited for him to leave before she dropped down in her chair in front of the computer. "Relax, sweetheart. That kind of thing is normal when half the club goes inside."

Angela felt her jaw drop as she stared at Gemma. "What? Are you serious?"

"It's the prison clause," she repeated with a dismissive wave. "'s not unusual for an old lady to opt for it. 'specially if their old man is inside for years. Just like the run rule. They can't expect a girl to wait forever."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Juice and I don't...the run rule doesn't apply, and the prison clause certainly doesn't either and definitely not with Miles," she stated, going back to her food and stabbing angrily at it with her fork. Gemma shrugged again, and Angela wondered if maybe she had used the prison clause at some point. Maybe it was how she and Clay got started. "I love Juice."

"Ain't about love, sweetheart. About getting what you need."

Angela rolled her eyes. "I don't need anything. That's what vibrators are for."

Gemma smirked at her, shaking her head in a way that made Angela think she may be holding in a laugh. "Don't get your pretty panties in a bunch. Just tellin' you to go easy on the guy. You go gettin' all dramatic 'n' his brothers are gonna stop trustin' him. Especially the ones that love you so much."

She was right, of course. Juice, Happy, and Kozik would all turn against Miles if they knew how he was behaving. "Maybe they shouldn't trust him."

"That's not your choice to make," she pointed out matter of factly. "Now, let's talk venue. Clay was tellin' me the Wahewa tribe has good land out there. Willing to let us use it at a bargain, but we gotta bring all the shit in."

Angela raised an eyebrow at her. "Clay is helping plan our wedding?"

Gemma smirked and shrugged a shoulder. "In his own way. They're all bored in there. Think they're all starting to throw ideas out there."

"Juice mentioned it being some kind of peace summit," she said on a sigh. Gemma merely shrugged again in response as if she knew more but wasn't going to divulge anything. She didn't really care. The less she knew, the better. "I don't care about the club shit. As long as the groom gets to stay there the whole party and come home with me that night, that's all that matters."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Your boy will be there to consummate to marriage," she assured her with a smirk. "Though I'm pretty sure that'll happen before you even get to the venue."

Angela smirked right back at her. "Pretty sure that'll happen the second we're alone," she corrected. She missed Juice for a lot of reasons, but the way her body physically ached for him was unprecedented. She yearned for his touch, his lips on her skin, the feel of him inside her. Just thinking about him made a fire start to build inside of her. She took a sip of her water to try and calm down. "Don't tell my aunt."

"Still waiting to meet your aunt."

That was something Angela had been avoiding. For some reason, the idea of having her aunt and Gemma in the same room made her uneasy especially since Happy wasn't around to approve of it. It was two of her worlds colliding, and she wasn't sure if she was ready for that yet. Wasn't sure if Happy was ready for that yet. Elena honestly didn't want anything to do with Gemma; she was irked that the SAMCRO matriarch was even involved in the wedding which meant that when they did meet, Elena probably wasn't going to be the friendliest. "It'll happen eventually," she hedged, digging into her salad to avoid looking at Gemma. "Went to that flower shop, by the way. She's got beautiful flowers, but we can't use 'em for the wedding."

"Why the hell not?" Gemma asked, starting on her own food. She hadn't thanked Angela for bringing it; she hadn't really expected her to.

" 'cause the owner's husband is the new San Joa Lieutenant," she answered around a mouthful. "Thinkin' havin' her bringing in flowers is one hell of a risk considering it sounds like some...club shit is gonna go down."

Gemma tilted her head, regarding her as if she had some new found respect for her. "Always forget how smart you are, undertaker."

Angela raised an eyebrow at her. "Dunno whether to take that as a compliment or not."

"Take it as you want," she replied flippantly. Angela was tempted to roll her eyes, but she knew this mental karate was all part of who Gemma was. She kept people at arm's length, not trusting anyone to do anything except her family. Angela respected that, though it seemed awfully lonely. Finally, Gemma softened a bit as she muttered, "Just glad you're on our side. Now, let's talk catering."

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

Juice put 'The Catcher in The Rye'  back on the shelf in the small prison library, smiling to himself. He understood why Angela loved the book so much, it was a good one. He glanced down at the list she'd handwritten in his hand. He'd told her he'd been going crazy without something to do, so she'd made him a list of all the books he should read. She'd warned him she didn't necessarily like all the books on the list, but she felt they were book someone should at least read once in their life. He'd recognized a few of them from middle school and high school and had given her shit for including them, teasing her for thinking he hadn't done his reading in school. He had; though, he never really had the patience for reading like Angela did. The next one on his list was one he wasn't familiar with, though. "Like Water for Chocolate?" he muttered to himself.

"Not about chocolate," someone said from beside him.

He whirled around quickly, pressing his back against the shelves, his heart racing. How had he not heard the inmate behind him? How could he let him catch him off guard? That was exactly how the Russians got the jump on Jax! Thankfully, the inmate behind him was a newer one. He couldn't have been more than eighteen. He'd seen the kid hanging around the Mayans a bit. Word on the street was he'd killed a cop, which would explain why no one really messed with him. Juice squared his shoulders a bit, trying to mask the brief instance of fear he'd had. The kid looked harmless. "No?" he asked, looking at the cover. It had a girl in a white dress in a kitchen on it. "Is it like...a cookbook?"

"Definitely not," the inmate said on a chuckle. "It's fiction. Magical realism. Esquivel's a great writer, but the book's pretty...weird."

Juice flipped through the pages; it was a relatively short book. It wouldn't take him too long to read, which was what he preferred. "Huh. How weird is weird?"

"Girl cooks and whatever she's feeling while she cooks manifests itself in her food. When she's sad, it makes everyone sick and cry. When she's turned on...well..."

"No shit," Juice commented with a laugh. He wondered if this was a book Angela liked, or if it was one she thought he should read. "Kinda sounds interesting."

The kid shrugged, picking out a Spanish novel from nearby. "It's not bad. You got a book list?"

Juice clutched the piece of paper in his hand closer to him. It was one page of many out of one of Angela's longer letters. Her perfume still lingered on the pretty blue stationary she used. He nodded slowly. "My girl wrote me a list of books she thinks I should read," he admitted, showing him the paper but not handing it to him. "Been trying to get the first Harry Potter for weeks, but it's always taken. Saw the movies, but she's insistent the books are better."

The inmate didn't comment on it, though he did smile just a little. "Can I see the list?" he asked, nodding to the paper. Juice reluctantly handed it over to him. He watched him like a hawk as he looked it over, rubbing a hand over his unshaven face before handing it back to him. He disappeared down one of the aisles for a minute before coming back out with a book in his hand. "Try this one. 's better than the movie."

Juice took the book with the red cover from him, reading the title with a smirk; of course Angela would have the Godfather by Mario Puzo on his booklist. "Thanks..."

"EZ Reyes," he put in, stretching out his hand for Juice to shake.

"Juice Ortiz," he replied, shaking his hand.

"Your girl's got good taste. These books are...advanced. She must be smart."

Juice smiled at little and nodded. Angela was incredibly smart, though she didn't really show it much. Every so often, he'd ask her a random question, and she'd school him on something new. The only things she ever had trouble with were math and chemistry. He'd always helped her with her homework in those subjects. He understood them well. They were consistent, never changing. Seeing the numbers fall into place as he solved equations made his OCD brain happy. "Yeah," he said on a chuckle. "Too smart for me, that's for sure. Dunno what she's doin' with me."

EZ sighed softly, staring at his hands for a moment. "Yeah, I know the feelin'," he said on a frown.

"You're new here," he stated, waiting for EZ to nod before he asked, "You a Mayan?"

"Nah, but my brother is. Kinda set it up for me so they'd have my back while I was in here," he explained on a shrug. "A-are you a..."

"I'm a Son," he interjected, showing off the reaper tattooed on his forearm. His brown skin often led people to think he was with the Mayans until they saw the ink. It didn't matter to him; Sons and Mayans were good. They had each other's backs. "We're good on the yard."

EZ nodded, fidgeting with the book in his hand. "Yeah, heard that. The politics and shit in this place are...wild."

Juice kind of felt bad for the kid; he looked a little lost, and he definitely didn't seem to fit in with the prison crowd. "Yeah. You'll learn," he assured him. "Word to the wise? Sneaking up on people is a great way to get your ass beat."

EZ grimaced a bit. "Yeah, didn't really think that one through. Thanks for not doing...that."

He shrugged a shoulder, putting the books underneath his arm. "I'm gonna go start in on these. Thanks for the recommendations."

"Yeah, yeah. Lemme know how you like 'em," he replied, frowning down at his book.

To Juice's surprise, the kid looked disappointed as if he didn't want the conversation to end. Juice wondered how many other inmates had showed him any kind of kindness. He'd come into prison with no club other than that of his brother's, which he wasn't actually a part of. Juice knew how that felt. He'd been in the same situation when he'd gotten sent to juvie. He'd made friends eventually, but the first few months were awfully lonely. "Hey, you play basketball?"

"Sure," EZ replied on a shrug. "Why?"

"Mayans and Sons play a little out on the yard," he explained, giving the kid a break. "You should join us. It's actually fun."

That got a real smile from him as he nodded. "Yeah. That'd be great. Thanks, man."

Juice nodded, slapping him on the back before heading back to his cell to start reading. Happy was in the cell with another inmate, setting his tattoo station up. "Got my back?" Happy asked, nodding to the cell door.

"Always," he replied, moving to stand in the doorway to keep an eye out for any guards. Tattooing was illegal, and it was one hell of a risk, but it was one Juice was willing to take for Happy. He leaned against the doorway, cracking open one of the books and starting to read while every so often lifting his eyes to scan for guards, his own tattoo still smarting a bit on his chest since Happy had just recently touched it up. It wasn't as big or bold as either of them wanted it mostly because making the ink took awhile. The tattooing itself hurt like a bitch too. Worse than any tattoo he'd ever gotten. It was worth it though. By the end of their sentence, he expected it would look bold, beautiful, like the woman he'd gotten it for. He was willing to put up with the pain for her.  He was excited to finally show it to her, see the way her eyes lit up when she saw it. He already knew she would love it. He just wanted it to be perfect. Happy said it'd take some time, which was fine with Juice; it wasn't like he had anything else going on.

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

Gah! This one took awhile because life got a little bumpy for me. 😅

Short chapter because it is half of one long chapter, so the other half will be up shortly! Yay! One more "prison era" chapter, and then moving onto season 4! FINALLY! 

Please let me know what you think!!

🖤