Hiiii so just a few notes before you read! This is my first fic (or any creative writing at all) EVER so please be kind, I am NOT a writer and am sensitive little baby 😫 I'm aware that this entire plot is VERY unrealistic in the canon SOA universe but I have tried to write this story in a way where it ends up being justified and making sense if you give it a chance. I am also aware of how that sort of thing bothers people and I completely understand if this is not your cup of tea. This is just my fun little fantasy that I originally had written solely for my own enjoyment and not for the purposes of sharing, but I am posting after several requests from friends so please keep that in mind. I have changed certain events, timelines, come up with character backstory, etc. to fit my narrative, that's the fun thing about fanfic! If you have seen the show, you will be able to follow along and decipher what is canon/taken directly from the show, and what I have made up. I think it is canon enough that you get the SOA nostalgia, but AU enough that it is fun and exciting. In doing this, I mean no offense to SOA, SOA fans, or our lord and savior: Kurt Sutter.

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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, mentions of drug use/overdose, violence/death.


Sydney Harding rolled into the Teller-Morrow Auto Repair lot just after lunch on a nice, warm Thursday at the end of May, turning down 'California Dreamin' as it played over the radio, the engine of her Dodge Challenger growling low as she scoped out the homebase for SAMCRO.

The young woman had arrived in Charming a few days ago and was set to meet with the Northern Cali charter's President, Clay Morrow - a founding member. After years of pining, she was finally sent to the little old town of Charming by her Godfather, Les Packer - President of the San Bernardino charter. Her dad was the former Vice President of SAMDINO, renouncing his title to raise her when her mother overdosed 16 years ago. He had always told her that she would be the secret weapon of the SOA after he was done with her, and that he was right.

SAMDINO had never been mixed up in enough to need the knowledge and skill set that Sydney possessed, so Packer sent her off to live her dream after the dust from her dad's death had settled. Her dream? To become the first female patch in SOA history. Not exactly the dream of most 22 year-old women, but it had been hers for as long as she could remember.

Sydney parked her car and before she could even get to the door handle she was approached by a young little thing, shy, strawberry blonde, about her age - undoubtedly a prospect. "Hi there, can I uh help you-" Her hearing faded as a mechanic working in the garage on the other side of the lot caught her eye, and by the way looks of it - she'd definitely caught his. He was tall, probably in his forties and oozing testosterone - dark, wild curls sat atop his head. As he got a little closer she was taken aback by his electric blue eyes, undoubtedly the most beautiful pair of eyes that she'd ever laid hers on.

She attempted to turn her attention back to the prospect as she got out of the car, removing her dark mirrored aviators. He was rambling about getting her in for an oil change when the dark haired man finally approached, he wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up underneath his mechanic's shirt, dark jeans, and a silver chain around his neck. She noticed the stitching on the lapel said 'Tig'. Weird name - she thought, undoubtedly a moniker, but it suited him. He was rugged - mean looking with facial hair and muscley forearms, he was the type that many people would call creepy, but that the ladies would undoubtedly love.

Sydney's attraction to older men wasn't exactly a new thing, growing up around bikers - the boys her age always seemed too immature, pretty, or weak. Trying to keep her composure under his stare, she pretended to be deeply engaged in what the prospect was saying, nodding and squinting as he rambled nervously.

"Sack, beat it." The mysterious man said gruffly, gesturing to the garage with a thumb - the prospect taking off without a second thought. His voice was like whiskey: smokey, smooth, and sending a shiver down her spine. "Hi there darlin, what can I do ya for?" He struggled to keep his eyes from falling to her impressive cleavage protruding from the tight grey tank top she was wearing. The eye catching old fashioned royal queens crown tattoo she had on the top of her left breast definitely was not helping his case. She could tell he was taking her in by the way he seemed to stare blankly like a lost puppy, she was used to men ogling at her, but what she wasn't used to was the urge to ogle back.

"You could do me for a few things." She smirked suggestively and nodded approvingly after giving him a once-over, chewing on the arm of her sunglasses and swaying her body slightly. "Your President around?" She asked nonchalantly, glancing to the row of Harleys lined up in the middle of the lot between the bar - which she knew would be their clubhouse - and the garage.

"You got an appointment?" He challenged with squinted eyes, cocking his head slightly. She knew immediately that he had to be of higher ranking in the club, either left or right hand by the way his eye twitched when she mentioned his President.

"Sure do." She replied cockily as she started to turn away from him with a playful open mouthed smile, sliding her gold necklace along its chain. "Darlin." She looked back, cocking her eyebrows and winking before starting her path to the clubhouse.

Tig assumed that since she wanted to see Clay, she must be a croweater trying to get in good with the club, but something about her was different, she didn't look like the trashy crows that flocked to him - and she didn't seem to act like one either. He watched her hips sway back and forth while she walked across the lot - which she emphasized a little of course, knowing he was watching. The view from the back was just as good as the view from the front and he couldn't help but groan slightly as he admired her hourglass figure and perfectly round ass in those tight black jeans, noting the pair of thighs that he wouldn't mind sitting his face tightly between. He continued skimming down her long legs, noticing the red soles of her black stilettos as they clacked against the pavement. Tig was no Wolf of Wall Street - that's for sure, but he had seen a fair share of cheap hooker heels in his day to know that these were not the shoes of a some penny whore looking to suck dick for a club that likely wouldn't give her a second thought.

He jogged across the lot before she could reach the door to the clubhouse, stopping her in her tracks and allowing him to slip past her. She was a bit surprised by the out of character way she reacted to him, nobody had ever made her jumpy before, but she quickly shook the thought out of her head, chalking it up to excitement over the new endeavour.

"I'll let him know you're here." He said, blocking the door slightly as he leant against it, a bent arm propped against the frame. "What's your name, beautiful?" He nodded his chin towards her, noticing her eyes as well: big, bright doe eyes in a dark forest green, the kind that looked jade in the sun and black in the shade. They weren't the shocking blue like his, but they were the most unique he'd ever seen.

"Sydney." She drew out sweetly, holding eye contact as a distraction as she brushed past him, his nostrils flooding with her scent: coconut lime shampoo and sweet perfume. "D'you wipe his ass too?" She asked, turning around to face him as she crossed the threshold, lips curling into a devious smile with one arm of her aviators in the corner of her mouth.

His wide eyed reaction of shock came through and a man sitting at the bar with deep scars across his face spit out his beer in laughter. She looked directly into Tig's eyes, placing one hand on her hip and raising her eyebrows, waiting for an answer. He just nodded and grimaced with his hand rubbing the back of his neck as if admitting defeat, she let her smile get bigger as he sauntered off into the back hallway.

Once he was out of sight she scanned the clubhouse quickly, gaining her bearings. She noted the long bar with a few patrons to her right, double doors straight ahead with the infamous wall full of framed mugshots was next to them - there was one in the clubhouse back home but it was not nearly as extensive as this one. There was a pool table in the back left corner next to a large stereo, a few couches, and a dart board. A stripper pole was to the right of the room, and next to that was a hallway which she assumed contained the dorm rooms and clubhouse amenities.

"Aye Lass, that was great, he's usually the one throwing the jabs, nice to see him take some." The scarred man said in a thick scottish accent, winking and making her chuckle quietly along with him. "So... Sydney, what're ye doin here at our fine clubhouse?"

"A girl can't come to a bar for a drink?" She challenged playfully with a slight squint and tilt of her head. He was about to say something when the double doors at the back of the room opened with a loud creak, revealing a large man: tall, broad, white hair - she immediately noticed the flash on his kutte that read 'President', this was Clay Morrow.

"Sydney." He said huskily, with a nod of his head toward the chapel. A scowl creeped across the face of the scottish man, who Sydney gave a devilish smile before walking away. As soon as the doors closed behind her, Tig emerged from the hall and walked up beside Chibs – the scotsman, and Bobby - an older overweight man with long hair and a long beard, taking the seat closest to the chapel beside them at the bar.

"What d'ya think she's talkin to Clay about?" Bobby mused.

"Probably just some gash looking for a favor she can do for the club." Chibs responded with a snort as Bobby raised his eyebrows and looked towards the doors.

"Nah brother, that's no crow." Tig stated distantly as he took a swig of his beer, eyes glued to the chapel doors and mind glued on her.

Clay closed the doors behind Sydney and pulled out a chair for her at the oblong shaped table that had the infamous reaper carved into it. "Sit'own." He ordered as he took his own seat at the head of the table. His voice was gravelly - much deeper than Tig's, than any man's voice she had ever heard before. It was the kind that carried, the kind that bellowed, the kind that you wouldn't want to be threatened by.

Clay Morrow was a smart man, he knew not to underestimate Sydney if she had Packer's stamp of approval, but he couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was that she had to offer. Other than the way she carried herself; walking fearlessly with confidence, she could easily be any other crow that walked in and out of here after swallowing a few loads - young, bleach blonde, big tits, tanned skin with bright eyes and a nice ass. He didn't know what to expect from her, but he knew that the element of surprise was on his side, and that's just what he was after.

Sydney knew that Clay had invited her to sit at the table as a test - prospects weren't even allowed at the table before they got a full patch. She remained standing, she knew and respected the reaper.

Clay smirked in approval and lit a cigar. "I hear you can be of service to me." Like most mean old men, he was short and to the point. If you didn't have anything to offer him, you were a waste of his precious time.

"I guess if that's what you heard, then it must be true." She snarked. He didn't expect her sass, but quickly remembered this was Les Packer vouching for her here, there had to be a damn good reason.

He chuckled to himself. "I guess so."

Luckily, Packer had done most of the talking with Clay already, so Sydney didn't have to explain that she was no pushover and she was most definitely no sweetbutt. "This place will become your home, these people will become your family." He paused, remembering who her father was and sighing sympathetically. "I'm sorry about your old man. James... He was a good guy."

"Thank you." She knew that her father was well respected among the charters, he and Clay had crossed paths many times over their decades in the club. She hadn't been introduced to many members outside of the San Bernardino charter - per her dad's request, and it had taken her a while to realize just why he did that, but coming to Charming had given her the clarity she needed to see the big picture he'd had in store for her, her entire life.

"You can work at the bar here, and help my wife out in the office. When I need you, you're expected to be here, just like my guys."

"Yes sir." She nodded. He didn't look directly at her when he spoke, giving her a rush of empowerment that she so desperately needed after her nerve wracking run in with Tig.

"Packer said you got a place off Main Street, won't be needing a dorm?" She nodded, smiling as she thought about the little house she'd scored just off of the main drag, around the corner from her new favourite bakery.

"Good. You can start your work here tomorrow morning, 11:00A.M."

"Sounds good." Sydney said flatly, like her other responses. She was excited, but she had learned over the years to keep her composure around men that she didn't know; being taught that sex sells, but business prevails.

Sydney turned toward the doors. "Oh, and Sydney?" She turned back around, Clay looking at her for the first time since she came in, sporting a grin of amusement. "Give my guys hell will ya?" His raised eyebrows, revealing blue eyes in the deep hollows of his face.

Her expression softened into her signature devilish smile as she looked over her shoulder "Oh you have no idea."

Sydney walked out of the chapel and back into the bar, the smell of cigarettes and whiskey flooding her nostrils. She spotted Tig staring at her from the bar, accompanied by the Scotsman and the older man from earlier. They turned away quickly, trying to look occupied with a conversation but she knew exactly what one they were having. She glanced down as she chuckled to herself before walking over to them, towards the exit, giving them side eye as she slowed her pace and eventually stopped. "Gentlemen." She nodded, smiling smugly as she continued to the exit. Tig's eyes were locked on her the entire time, Chibs and Bobby crinkled their eyebrows at him as he briskly walked over to the door and peered out the blinds the second it had closed behind her. Hate to see her go… Tig chuckled to himself.

Something about the curly haired man lingered with Sydney as she got in the car and shook her head, trying to straighten herself out. She started her engine and rolled down the window, it is way too hot in this damn car - her cheeks flushed, knowing the heat she was feeling had nothing to do with the temperature. She took a deep breath as if to suppress her thoughts and slid her sunglasses back on, flipping her long curls over her shoulder before putting her car in reverse, the sound of the rumbling engine serving to calm her nerves as she drove to her new home.

Sydney got to TM at 10:48A.M., just as she put her car in park, a woman with dark hair and blonde highlights pulled into the spot next to her in a black Escalade. This must be Clay's wife. Gemma Teller-Morrow was infamous among the charters, known as the SAMCRO queen - the old lady every sweetbutt aspired to be: a tough bitch, a major MILF, and someone you would not want to cross. Her reputation did not precede her, Gemma was the sexiest middle-aged woman Sydney had ever seen with her fancy car, and perfect body dressed in black leather, the woman radiated big dick energy.

Gemma immediately noticed the young blonde girl, walking over to her car window while holding a cigarette in her hand as she leaned down to speak to her. "You must be Sydney."

"How'd you guess?" She replied in a playful tone.

"Chibs told me about that rack of yours." She pursed her lips and looked at the cleavage busting out from the criss-crossed scoop neck of the black fitted shirt Sydney was wearing. Gemma raised her eyebrows as she met her eyes again. "Hard to miss." A bashful smile tugged at Sydney's lips, Gemma smirked and shook her hand, giving Sydney the feeling that they were going to get along just fine.

Sydney spent the morning learning about the work she would be doing around the compound, it seemed easy enough as she was good with paperwork and better with numbers. Gemma had done the liberty of pointing out a few of the guys to her, Half-Sack was the prospect she'd met yesterday - whose real name was Kip. She also learned that the scottish man from yesterday was named Chibs, the one who apparently had noticed her rack. Bobby was the older man, an Elvis impersonator, who Sydney had actually seen perform as a kid with her dad.

"What about that guy with the curly hair?" Gemma was no dumb bitch, shooting the new girl a knowing glance with a raised eyebrow, which she returned with a smirk and a playful eyeroll.

"That's Tig. He's Clay's right hand, Sergeant at Arms." Sydney mentally patted herself on the back for knowing that he was of high ranking in the club, patting even harder for the snide comment she'd made to him yesterday. "He already tryin to make a move on you?" Gemma asked with narrowed eyes, sounding like the protective mother that Sydney would soon learn she was.

The matriarch could tell that she didn't have to warn the intuitive girl about Tig. "I have a feeling he makes a move on anything with a pulse." Sydney scoffed, looking down at the order slips on her desk.

"And without". Gemma retorted.

5:00P.M. came and Sydney took her place behind the bar with Gemma, ready for her introduction as the guys would be back for church soon. A few minutes later the roaring sound of Harley's filled her ears - a sound that made her feel at home for the first time in the new town. "Nothing gets my panties wetter than that noise." She gawked, making Gemma laugh, the two of them warming up to each other quickly.

Members started to pour in, most of them coming up to introduce themselves to the mysterious new blonde behind the bar. Gemma stayed with Sydney, they both knew that she could handle herself, but the watchful eye of the matriarch definitely didn't bother her.

"I figured I'd be seeing you here again Lass" Chibs said as he walked up to the bar, Sydney decided to make an even more lasting impression than her memorable first one by leaning forward onto the bartop, pushing her tits up under the weight. Her cleavage doubled and she saw his eyes widen and drop immediately down to her chest.

"You thought right, Scotty." She tipped him a wink.

She looked past the stunned Scotsman and waved to Bobby as he walked past the bar into the chapel, smiling and waving politely. "Hello there sweetheart."

Clay entered the bar and looked over at her and Gemma, making his way over to kiss his wife on the cheek, pouring himself a glass of scotch. "How's it goin here so far?" He asked Sydney.

"Good, I –" She cut her sentence short as a scary looking man walked in, bald, covered in tattoos, and a cold expression. He didn't make eye contact, clearly thinking she was just a regular blonde crow as he looked at the ground, taking a seat at the bar. "You think you're just gonna fucking walk in here without giving me the greeting I deserve?" His head snapped up with a look of murder in his eyes, worry immediately washing over everyones faces as the new girl challenged the most lethal man they knew.

As soon as the threatening man made eye contact with the bitch who dared to speak to him that way, his expression softened and his eyes sparkled. "You think you're fuckin special?" He rasped.

A grin spread across Sydney's face and a twinkle found its way into her eye as everyone looked between the two of them. A few of the guys eventually caught on, making the connection between her, and his time in San Bernardino.

Happy dropped the facade and returned her grin, running around the bar to pick her up into a hug. "What the hell you doing here Princess?" Clay knew all about her relationship with Happy, thanks to Packer. He had decided to keep her presence a secret, knowing he would need some back up once her transfer was brought to the table.

Happy Lowman was originally patched to the Tacoma charter, but went Nomad when his mom got sick, bringing him to San Bernardino where he spent time with in SAMDINO with Sydney and her dad while she was growing up, he'd been a huge part of molding her into who she was, kind of like a big brother… A big brother she liked to flirt with just to get under that tightly stretched skin of his.

The stoic Nomad had moved on from San Bernardino a couple years ago when his mom's health had began to improve, he visited frequently but it had been months since Sydney had seen him apart from her dad's celebration of life. When Packer gave her the go ahead to transfer, her first thought was to tell Happy, but Packer had insisted that she wait to see if it was a good fit, and now she knew why.

"Finally let me go." She smirked. Happy had known how badly she'd wanted to live up to her full potential and fight for a seat at the table. Home wasn't the place for that, she'd pushed for a send off for years, and she finally got it.

"I'm sorry about your old man... Miss him everyday." He repeated the same thing she had been hearing for the past month, kissing her on the cheek. As close as Sydney was with Happy, he wasn't a man of many words - given he spoke to her more than almost anyone else - she rarely knew the details of where he was going or who he was with as it was strictly 'need to know'. Over the years of harassing him with questions and trying to get him to communicate like a normal person to no avail, she'd grown to just accept that he would always resurface, and was just a phone call away.

"Trying to slip away without telling me again?" Sydney said with amusement from the doorway of Happy's dorm in the SAMDINO clubhouse, watching him hurriedly pack his shoulder bag for the ride. He only grunted in response, causing her to roll your eyes. "You know if you would just tell me where you were going, I would stop bugging you about it." She stated simply.

"You don't need to know, little girl." He returned to packing his bag. Happy had known of her dream to patch for years - but he'd known of her father's plan for her, longer. He knew she would dig if she had all the intel, and it was too early for that.

Sydney scoffed, crossing the room to the chair and sitting down. "Always the same damn answer. I don't get it Hap, you trust me with more than you trust anyone else with but I don't get to know where you're going." Her casual tone gradually got more and more sassy, the frustration poking through.

"It ain't about that." His back was still to her, she knew it was no use getting worked up over his lack of explanation and attention to the matter, if Happy had his mind made up, there was no changing it. "You got a secret girlfriend you're hiding from me?" He smirked over his shoulder, raising a brow in response to her absurd question before turning back to the dwindling pile of ill fitting garments. "Don't think you're getting a break from training, Tank's gonna keep you goin while I'm gone."

"You say it like I want a break." She said with a cocky smirk, earning her another discerning look from the Tacoma Killer, they both knew that he worked her too hard but he could never get her to admit it. She smiled at his reaction, standing to take her leave. "Ride safe. See ya soon Happy Feet."

"I should be the one tellin you that." He called after her, an evil smile of pure satisfaction spreading across her face as she bounded out of his room and down the hall.

Sydney found herself realizing for the first time how odd it was that the charters seemed so disconnected, they were around when they needed things yes - but the Sons of Anarchy were supposed to be a brotherhood, whether they were from the same charter or not. It seemed that somewhere along the way, it had become more about business than brothers. Members from other charters knew each other vaguely or knew of each other, but most didn't have decades of memories as they should've.

"Thanks Hap. I'm so glad you're here, it's nice to see a friendly face." Sydney cupped his cheek, noticing it was the first sound of true sincerity in her voice since she had arrived in Charming, no business or cryptic bullshit.

Clay spit out his liquor, a reaction to Sydney ironically calling Happy a 'friendly face', making Bobby, Jax, and Chibs laugh. The Tacoma Killer was ruthless, relentless, fearless, and Sydney's reputation as the Cali Queen wasn't much different.

Juice, Tig and Half-Sack stood motionless, jaws on the floor, matching Gemma's expression. They knew immediately that if Happy would crack a smile for her, they were in for one hell of a ride.

Songs for this chapter

Devil - Shinedown

Rearview Town - Jason Aldean

California Dreamin' - The Mamas & The Papas

Adam Raised a Cain - Bruce Springsteen

Castle - Halsey