Juice and Half-Sack started closing up the garage once the last of the mechanics had gone home, making sure none of them acknowledged the ambulance that was sitting in pride of place in the center bay. The other Sons were catching each other up on what they'd been doing that day in the garage office. He pulled the last of the shutters down, turning round and jumping back as he realised Tig had been standing right behind him, hands on hips.
"So you stole an ambulance?" He asked, eyebrows raised.
"I had nothing to do with that!" Juice objected quickly, pointing his finger at Half-Sack who was stood by the stolen vehicle, ready to defend himself to the others as they came out of the office and sat around the garage, ready for the roasting to begin.
"Yeah." Half-Sack said confidently. "These things are like a hundred grand easy."
"Yeah they are." Clay spoke up, grinning as Juice stood beside Half-Sack with a hand over his mouth to hide his smile. "That's why the people who buy 'em are, like, state and federal agencies and shit."
"Okay." Half-Sack said eagerly.
"So, uh, what?" Clay grinned. "You want me to sell a stolen vehicle to the government?" Clay asked as the other Sons chuckled.
Half-Sack started to look nervous, rubbing his hands together. "Oh, no, uh, just- just something like, uh, a small hospital or something. Or the supplies inside like Pixie's charter?" He offered. Juice stopped hiding his grin, finding Half-Sack's thinking way too entertaining.
"Oh, like, uh, 'Uncle Freddy's Infirmary'? What?" Clay folded his arms and leant against the doorway as the others laughed again.
"Why don't you just steal, like, a fire engine? And then we could have our own rescue center! And then we could have our own little uniforms and hats!" Tig said, putting on a baby voice and sounding like an excited kid as the others Sons chuckled along.
"Okay I get it." Half-Sack nodded, realising his mistake. "I was just, you know, tryin' to show a little initiative." He tried to defend himself, Juice patted him on the back, shaking his head and grinning as Clay laughed at Half-Sack.
"Hey, Chibs, get rid of this thing as soon as it gets dark."
"You got it." Chibs nodded. "Where's Pixie?" He suddenly realised that there was a significant absence of pink in the garage.
"She was with me and Sack this afternoon, then she ran off, she's not with any of you guys?" Juice asked, brow furrowing. The Sons looked at each other and then back at Sack and Juice.
"You lost Pixie?" Tig growled.
"No! She said something about a top rocker, and rode off, I guessed she went back to Jax?" Juice reasoned.
"But you don't know for sure? You let the embodiment of chaos and trouble ride off on her own?" Clay asked.
"And you let Sack steal an ambulance." Chibs put in.
"Hey, neither of those things are my fault! What am I, prospect babysitter?"
The guys looked at each other and then back and Juice again. "Yes!" They chimed together. Juice put hands up in the air and stroked his mohawk.
The shutters opened and Jax limped in, grinning, he caught sight of the ambulance. "What the hell is this?"
Chibs stood up, putting his arm around a disgruntled Half-Sack. "My prospect." He grinned.
"You know, just thinkin' outside of the box." Half-Sack mumbled.
"Pixie with you?" Tig asked.
Jax looked at him confused. "No? Haven't seen or heard from her since Juice and Sack came and got her."
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Pixie, First Daughter of Anarchy
ActionMeggie "Pixie" Barcroft is the first-ever Daughter of Anarchy. When her small charter in England is taken down by the IRA, twenty-two-year-old Pixie must flee to Charming to escape the IRA's radar and make a new life for herself. Follow her journey...