Prospect's work

The prospect imprinted on him like a baby bird, at least Emily said so. Chibs is stood with the croweater now, both of them watching the prospect scramble through the chaotic party, passing out bottles of beer to the patched members. Well maybe she's not wrong, Chibs did pull him under his wing when the lad showed up last year with nothing but a broken-down Harley and a backpack swung around his shoulder. Showing some out-of-character kindness Clay had offered the boy a couple of weeks in one of their rooms and a job at the garage.

The boy had said he was called Juice much to their confusion. He'd gotten his own place and slowly but surely had gained their trust. He was a hard worker, loyal, good with tech and to Tig's pleasure good fun to mess with. Two weeks ago, he was moved up from hang around to prospect. Chibs' prospect to be precise. Juice has just handed the last bottles over to Tig and Bobby stood by the pool table, and reluctantly accepted the hair ruffle Tig retaliated with.
''Juiceyboy.'' His head spins around at the call of his sponsor and he hurries over to the bar.

''Yes Sir-uh Chibs'' A quick indication at their glasses is all he needs. As eager to please as he is, he's got all their drinks memorised, including Emily's. She gets talking to the prospect as he makes the drink, his hands automatically picking up a variety of bottles without thought. Chibs keeps his eyes on the party whilst he talks, careful to hide the fact he's listening. She asks about his childhood, New York, his parents. Chib catches that his mother passed away a few years ago now, that ignites an unfamiliar protective urge, if all goes to plan, he'll have a new family soon enough. Emily even asks about Chibs himself, Juice's only reply is to say he's grateful to have the chance to prospect. Smart boy. After their conversation dies out, Juice goes back to giving out drinks and Chibs and Emily sit at the bar, their lips locked together and his hands wandering..

An hour or so later the party had died down. It's nearly 2 AM, a variety of people are sprawled out over various furniture. Chibs walks Emily over to the door, kissing her on the cheek he promises to see her next weekend. She'd be a good old lady in a different life. Smart, stable, not as tough as Fiona but that wasn't needed when the IRA was miles away. He knows Gemma would approve but Emily herself wouldn't go for it. She was a career woman at heart, working five days a week in an office building, who just happened to like having a bit of fun on the weekends.

Walking back into the clubhouse he spots Tig throwing the kid a brush and indicating the floor. He'd been missing for the last hour and Chibs doesn't want to know where he's been, probably a graveyard. Juice looks tired already and he'll be here God knows how many more hours but no one ever said prospecting was easy. When he reaches them both he throws an arm over Tig's shoulders before grinning at the prospect, ''You might wanna get started now, lad.'' Looking at the destruction around the room and the prospect's startled expression, he decides he likes messing with the prospect too.