Pixie, First Daughter of Anarchy

Giving Back: Chapter 8

After the guys had left, Pixie had been working flat out to entertain the kids at the Elvis booth seeing as the star attraction had upped and left. Gemma wouldn't outright say she was grateful for Pixie's help, but she had to admit Pixie was hardworking and good under pressure, singing to the kids and dancing with them, then putting on little shows for the parents with their cameras at the ready. By the time the remaining two hours that the booth had to be open had passed, Pixie was sure she'd Elvis-ed every kid at the fundraiser. Opie had brought her another slushie which Pixie was very grateful for, and fussed over the Winston kids for a while until they'd decided to head off and speak to some of Kenny's classmates. Now Pixie was wiping down the tables and helping to pack away the booth as per Gemma's instructions. She came across a smear of red paint on the table where one of the kids hand touched their face paint before it was dry and proceeded to wipe it across the nearest flat surface. Pixie sighed and found some wet paper towels and got to scrubbing, trying to get the paint out of the grooves in the table. She was so focused on her task, that when a large body suddenly flopped down on one of the kiddie chairs she jumped about a foot, wide-eyed until she realised, to her utter surprise, it was Happy.

"Happy!" Pixie squealed, dropping the paper towels and throwing her arms around his neck in an excited hug, Happy stiffened for a moment, then a small smile appeared on his face and he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around Pixie and tightly holding her until she pulled back to look at him. "What're you doing back? I thought you were in Nevada?"

Happy shrugged, putting a toothpick in his mouth. "Too quiet."

"Was Juice okay?"

He nodded. "Back late tonight."

"That'll be nice, I've been missing you both." Pixie said honestly. "Clay's not here, there's just myself, Gemma and Opie here. The others went on some kind of run. Wouldn't tell me what."

"Not here for them." Happy grunted. Pixie looked up at him with confusion. "Get your things."

"Wait what? Where are we-?"

"Clubhouse, now." Happy stood up.

"Can I let Gemma know?"

"Told her already, let's go." Happy picked up Pixie's backpack, putting it on her back, then grabbing her upper arm and leading her out to the parking lot where he'd parked his bike next to Pixie's.

"Am I in trouble?" Pixie looked up at him, trying to gauge what was going on. Happy shook his head as he sat down on his bike, grabbing his helmet and giving her what he hoped was a calm smile. It seemed to settle Pixie's nerves as she suddenly leant across and booped his fuel tank, leaving a little finger print.

"You are now." Happy growled, pulling Pixie into a headlock. "Watch it, Pipsqueak." He growled making Pixie giggle, he released her and pushed her towards her bike.

"Alright, I get it." Pixie surrendered with a big grin on her face as she put her helmet on and started up her bike.

"Race you!" She pulled out of the lot and accelerated down the road. Happy smiled to himself and sighed. He thought this would be a pretty easy task, but he now realised that Pixie was going to be a hell of a handful. His bike roared to life and he sped out, gunning down the road, his sights set on Pixie's pink kutte. At first, he hadn't liked the fact Pixie wore pink, but he was quickly finding it useful for keeping track of her as it was so easy to spot. He also liked how it just fit her personality so well, how bubbly and sweet she was, but the reaper reminded people that she wasn't to be messed with unless they had a death wish. He caught up to her as Pixie slowed for a bend, they exchanged a glance and sped up again together, riding through Charming neck and neck until they got to the road leading to the clubhouse where Pixie accelerated past him to the bike racks. "I won!"