"I don't mind living in a man's world, as long as I can be a woman in it."
A hopeful new member with an affiliation to a neighbouring charter shows up in Charming, looking to get in with the infamous Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club. The only problem...
Sydney teaches the Sons just how wrong they've been handling things all along as they learn that maybe their jobs aren't so exclusive, after all.
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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, mentions of drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.
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"She said what ?" Clay screeched at Gemma.
"That's what she told me." Gemma shrugged.
"We don't got any business today, especially none that she should be handling on her own!" He shot Tig a look across the garage where he was working with Jax, Happy, and Half-Sack.
"Don't look at me brother, she didn't tell me shit." The dark-haired man held his hands up, shifting Clay's gaze to the others.
"Shit..." Jax groaned. "I got pissed at her last night... Told her to find the guns herself." He shook his head as he realized that this had to have been his doing.
Tig chuckled, but a louder chuckle drowned it out, turning to see Happy with a rarely seen smile on his face. "Get used to it. Cali Queen can be worse than Gem." He winked at the matriarch.
Clay's brow creased at the mention of the familiar name. He'd heard a thing or two on the streets about The Cali Queen - a Southern California assassin - but he hadn't had the slightest clue that Sydney was the one behind the ominous moniker. And by the slightly confused look on Jax and Tig's faces, he could tell that they were all thinking the same thing as they began to piece together the meaning behind the crown tattooed on her otherwise blank canvas of a body.
Clay just hung his head as he went back inside the office. If she really was the Cali Queen, then he had truly struck gold.
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"Billy's bringin' by a whole load of new boys today; Mexicans - says they're his new clients and we gotta make 'em real happy." Sydney sat at the Trucker's Diner in Pope, dressed in a skin-tight, baby blue mini dress and a pair of cheap black stilettos with her hair and makeup done up to the nines - listening to the group of local prostitutes sharing their business prospects.
"You guys ever make house calls?" Sydney squinted. "You know... Parties, hotels? I'm on my own now... Lookin' to make ends meet, you know." She asked with her head down, topping off the act with a charming southern accent to help tug on their heartstrings.
"Oh yeah, sweetie." An exotic looking woman nodded. "They're having one on Sunday - the Mexicans and the white boys." She smirked. "Pres says that they're celebrating a 'new opportunity for expansion' - wants everyone there."
