Pixie, First Daughter of Anarchy

Pilot Episode: Chapter 6

Whilst Pixie was getting changed and clean in her new room, the Sons spread out, some going up to the garage, others loitering in the clubhouse or going out for a smoke. "You gonna visit your kid today?" Clay asked Jax as he took a shot with the pool cue, knocking one of the balls into a hole.

"I dunno man, he's having surgery and I don't know how to deal with that. Shit's crazy." Jax confessed, showing his clear distress over the situation, unsure of how to handle it. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and a cleaner looking Pixie emerged putting on her kutte. She was dressed in a black Sons t-shirt which reached down to her mid-thighs, blue jeans with turn-ups on the end of each leg and her purple Doc Martens. She'd tied her hair up in a high ponytail instead of her plaits which looked good on her, Jax thought. He winced when he spotted her cheek which was bruised up properly from the fight.

"Your cheek okay? We got ice packs if you need one?" Jax asked, putting his head to one side in concern.

"Nah, it doesn't hurt much, it's just pretty gnarly looking at the moment." Pixie brushed off his uneasiness, making sure Jax didn't feel bad about their sparring. In truth, she looked forward to doing it again with him. Pixie paused for a moment and Jax sensed Pixie was debating on telling him something, so he cocked an eyebrow and Pixie nodded, deciding to go with it. "I, um, didn't mean to snoop, but I heard you talking about your kid. I hope everything's okay." Pixie said looking worried about what she'd heard.

"That shit's none of your business. Go find Juice and do something useful." Clay barked at her. Pixie flinched at the unexpectedness of his outburst and took a step away from the men, fists clenching at her sides as her fight response was triggered. She let out a breath to steady herself.

"Sorry, boss." Pixie said raising her hands up in a surrendering motion, showing she didn't mean any harm by what she'd said and wasn't a threat.

"It's okay, I'll take her." Jax said, putting down his cue. "C'mon darlin'." He beckoned her with his head and Pixie trotted off after him, trying to keep up with his striding gait and glad to be out from under the piercing gaze of Clay Morrow.

"Sorry about that, Clay doesn't like prospects snooping in club business." Jax explained as he lit a cigarette, the pair of them walking up the lot towards the garage.

"I really didn't mean to pry; you have a pretty loud voice, so I heard you as soon as I left my room. I really do hope everything turns out okay with your kid." Pixie described sincerely, she wanted to get across her innocent intentions and make it clear she wasn't spying.

"Thanks." Jax nodded. "He's a preemie from a druggie mother, he's also got a hereditary heart defect on top of that. Kid's not gonna survive." Jax told her darkly, a hopeless tone in his voice that shocked Pixie.

She grabbed Jax's arm and spun him around. "Hey, don't write your son off like that, mate. I was a preemie baby too, and look at me now, I'm fine." Pixie told him firmly, her hazel eyes serious and she had a strong tone to her voice as well, showing she believed in her words.

Jax felt touched by Pixie's concerns and the fact she was sticking up for his baby son, but the subject pained him, so he resorted to humour instead. "Is that why you're a shrimp?" Jax grinned.

Pixie playfully punched his arm. "No, you prat. I'm not that small, I'm five feet two inches. That's just under average, you guys are all overgrown." She grumbled light-heartedly.

"If that's what helps you sleep at night, then sure." Jax chuckled sarcastically, giving Pixie a little push in return. They shoved each other around until they got closer to the garage, both of them feeling really comfortable in each other's presence.