Pixie, First Daughter of Anarchy

Trouble Brewing

Mentions of smut at the start of chapter

Tig lay outstretched on the couch with Pixie starfished on top of him, the two cuddled under a blanket whilst they watched the film "Rocky" on the TV. They'd spent the rest of the previous day and night napping, eating and having sex. Pixie was unsure of how many rounds they'd actually managed, but it had felt like something had ignited between them after their first round and they couldn't keep their hands to themselves after that. Not that she was complaining, if anything, Pixie felt the exact opposite. Completely satisfied in Tig's arms, listening to Stallone's voice on the TV and watching Tig as he smoked his cigarette and idly watched, eyes not quite seeing the screen. His hand was gently stroking the plane of Pixie's back and she felt like putty under his touch. They'd woken up early, with the first light of dawn, having their last round for the time being before changing the bed sheets and collapsing on the couch, feeling too sleepy to do anything productive, and too wired up to go back to sleep.

"What're you thinking about?" Pixie asked him, idly fiddling with Tig's necklace. He looked down and kissed the top of Pixie's head.

"You." Tig said softly. Pixie raised an eyebrow in question, so Tig continued. "Just thinkin' about how amazing you are."

Pixie wriggled a little to see his face better. "What do you mean?"

"You've been through hell and back, and yet you're one of the purest, kindest souls I've ever met, I don't know how you manage it, but I feel so protective over that. I don't want this world to take your light away, doll." Tig explained, his hand going up to stroke Pixie's hair.

"I think my soul's pretty safe. I've seen things no one should ever have to see, and if that can't turn me into a monster, then I don't know what can. I do feel like one sometimes, but I always fight my way back, I anchor myself to the people I care about, the people I love, they always bring me back from the brink." Pixie countered. "Like when I killed the clown with Happy, and then had to bury him, the whole time H and I were digging, before he plucked up the courage to talk to me, all I could think about was how I wanted to come back to you, because you made me forget about everything." She kissed his chest.

"I think you do the same for me, angel. I felt horrible after dealing with Kyle, and all I wanted, more than anything in the world was to have you in my arms and make me feel like I'm not a monster." Tig hugged Pixie tightly to him.

Pixie's heart fluttered. "I never thought I'd be anyone's anchor. But I'm glad I'm yours and I will do everything I can to make you believe you aren't evil, because you aren't." Pixie said firmly, kissing Tig's chest and snuggling into his side.

"You know, you surprise me all the goddamn time" Tig suddenly said. Pixie looked up at him with a puzzled expression, so he continued. "I was just thinking about how ever since I've met you, you've done the exact opposite of what I thought you were gonna do, every time. Like I thought you weren't gonna be interested in any of us when you arrived, now you seem to be most of the guys' emotional support 'coz you care so deeply. Then I thought you were never going to be interested in me and you'd probably get with Juice or Jax. Then you came on to me instead. Then there's your whole thing of just leaping headfirst into danger but that's a whole other talk." Tig ended with a chuckle and kissed Pixie's forehead as she propped herself up a little more to look at him.

"I do what I can to keep you on your toes." Pixie joked. Tig was about to reply when his phone let out a shrill ringing tone that shattered the morning's peace and quiet. Tig gently lifted Pixie off of him and darted into the bedroom to find out what was going on. Pixie sighed, knowing that their little honeymoon-esque holiday was going to be cut short. The club would only ring Tig if something serious had happened. Pixie wrapped the blanket around her and made her way to where Tig was pacing around in the bedroom, phone clasped into his ear as he listened.