tanaquific (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tanaquific) wrote2011-10-01 02:49 pm
tanaquific) wrote2011-10-01 02:49 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Sons of Anarchy - The Kindness of Strangers - Teen
Title: The Kindness of Strangers
Fandom: Sons of Anarchy
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Adult themes and strong language
Words: 810 words
Summary: Sometimes, all it takes is the right kind of help. (Opie/Lyla.)
Disclaimer: This story is a transformative work based on the Fox 21/FX Productions/Linson Entertainment/Sutter Ink television series Sons of Anarchy. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it. It was written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
girlsavesboyfic, the Girl Saves Boy ficathon. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.
oOo
Lyla started up at the quiet knock at the door. She’d been dozing in front of the TV and the sound had been barely audible over the canned laughter of the sitcom now playing, but it brought her awake instantly.
Angus?
She didn’t know who else it could be this time of night. And for all Opie had reassured her that today would be the last she’d see of her dealer, she hadn’t been so sure.
Heart in mouth, she got to her feet and approached the door at an angle, reaching without thinking for the gun and clip stashed in a box on a table near the door. Slotting the clip into place and holding the gun ready to swing up, she cracked open the door an inch.
"Hey." Opie’s shy grin split his tangled beard.
"Hi." Lyla let out a long, slow breath and opened the door wider, at the same time trying to hide the gun behind her leg.
Opie must have caught the movement: he looked down for a moment, in the direction of the gun, and his lips tightened. When he met her gaze again, he gave an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. Didn’t mean to...."
"It’s okay." Lyla sighed a second time and brought the gun out from behind her, releasing the clip and letting it fall into her other hand. She took a step back. "You want to come in?"
"No. I got the kids in the car." Opie jerked his head back toward the road. "I just stopped by to apologize. Tara had no right to speak to you like that. To treat you like that."
"It’s okay," Lyla said again. She said that a lot. Mostly it was easier that way.
"No, it’s not." Opie spoke with surprising fierceness. "I don’t care if she’s Jax’s Old Lady. You didn’t deserve that. You...."
He hesitated, his gaze sliding away again, shy and uncertain, and a little flutter in her stomach told her how much she liked that about him. Big, tough guy—just like the rest of the SAMCRO muscle protecting Caracara—and yet there was a gentleness to him. An innocence in the way he looked at her. Not undressing her with his eyes like the other guys did, even when she’d been wearing next to nothing.
She realized he was talking again. "...tried to do a nice thing for me and you got treated like shit. You didn’t deserve that."
Lyla stared at him in amazement. She didn’t deserve a lot of the stuff that happened to her, but that didn’t stop it happening. That was just life. And if anyone should know life wasn’t fair, it was Opie. She’d asked around while her car was in the shop and she'd learned he was that guy: the one whose wife had been killed in a hit meant for him.
So when he’d said it wasn’t ever a good time for him to be around his kids, she’d understood what he was really saying. It wasn’t just about him leading a life where it was normal to need to lay hands on a half ounce of coke in a hurry or to turn up a few hours later covered in someone else’s blood.
Drawing in a deep breath, Lyla took another step back, opening the door still wider. "Come in. Bring the kids. I can find them somewhere to sleep and I’ll get them to school in the morning."
"You’d do that?" Now it was Opie’s turn to look surprised. "After—?"
"Sure." Being bitched out by an Old Lady wannabe who didn’t have a grip on her man like she wanted was hardly Opie’s fault. "Besides, it’s no trouble. I’ve got to see to Piper anyway. And you’ve got Club business to worry about."
Opie didn’t react for a moment and then something in his expression crumbled. Lyla knew that look too. Knew it so well she wanted to reach out and hold him like he was a child. It was the look you got when you’d been fighting so hard to keep everything together in a world that didn’t give a damn about you, and where being passed over or ignored was better than the alternative, because the alternative was being kicked when you were already down—and then someone stopped and reached out a hand and helped you up. Did a nice thing for you that they didn’t have to, just like Opie had when he’d gotten Dog to drive Piper to school and her to Caracara.
Maybe she’d already paid him back for that a hundred times today, but this wasn’t about returning a favor. This was about paying it forward. Making the world a better place for someone else. Because you could.
With a smile, she reached out and gave Opie’s arm a squeeze. "Go on. Get your kids. And we’ll figure things out from there."
Fandom: Sons of Anarchy
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Adult themes and strong language
Words: 810 words
Summary: Sometimes, all it takes is the right kind of help. (Opie/Lyla.)
Disclaimer: This story is a transformative work based on the Fox 21/FX Productions/Linson Entertainment/Sutter Ink television series Sons of Anarchy. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it. It was written for
girlsavesboyfic, the Girl Saves Boy ficathon. Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.Lyla started up at the quiet knock at the door. She’d been dozing in front of the TV and the sound had been barely audible over the canned laughter of the sitcom now playing, but it brought her awake instantly.
Angus?
She didn’t know who else it could be this time of night. And for all Opie had reassured her that today would be the last she’d see of her dealer, she hadn’t been so sure.
Heart in mouth, she got to her feet and approached the door at an angle, reaching without thinking for the gun and clip stashed in a box on a table near the door. Slotting the clip into place and holding the gun ready to swing up, she cracked open the door an inch.
"Hey." Opie’s shy grin split his tangled beard.
"Hi." Lyla let out a long, slow breath and opened the door wider, at the same time trying to hide the gun behind her leg.
Opie must have caught the movement: he looked down for a moment, in the direction of the gun, and his lips tightened. When he met her gaze again, he gave an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. Didn’t mean to...."
"It’s okay." Lyla sighed a second time and brought the gun out from behind her, releasing the clip and letting it fall into her other hand. She took a step back. "You want to come in?"
"No. I got the kids in the car." Opie jerked his head back toward the road. "I just stopped by to apologize. Tara had no right to speak to you like that. To treat you like that."
"It’s okay," Lyla said again. She said that a lot. Mostly it was easier that way.
"No, it’s not." Opie spoke with surprising fierceness. "I don’t care if she’s Jax’s Old Lady. You didn’t deserve that. You...."
He hesitated, his gaze sliding away again, shy and uncertain, and a little flutter in her stomach told her how much she liked that about him. Big, tough guy—just like the rest of the SAMCRO muscle protecting Caracara—and yet there was a gentleness to him. An innocence in the way he looked at her. Not undressing her with his eyes like the other guys did, even when she’d been wearing next to nothing.
She realized he was talking again. "...tried to do a nice thing for me and you got treated like shit. You didn’t deserve that."
Lyla stared at him in amazement. She didn’t deserve a lot of the stuff that happened to her, but that didn’t stop it happening. That was just life. And if anyone should know life wasn’t fair, it was Opie. She’d asked around while her car was in the shop and she'd learned he was that guy: the one whose wife had been killed in a hit meant for him.
So when he’d said it wasn’t ever a good time for him to be around his kids, she’d understood what he was really saying. It wasn’t just about him leading a life where it was normal to need to lay hands on a half ounce of coke in a hurry or to turn up a few hours later covered in someone else’s blood.
Drawing in a deep breath, Lyla took another step back, opening the door still wider. "Come in. Bring the kids. I can find them somewhere to sleep and I’ll get them to school in the morning."
"You’d do that?" Now it was Opie’s turn to look surprised. "After—?"
"Sure." Being bitched out by an Old Lady wannabe who didn’t have a grip on her man like she wanted was hardly Opie’s fault. "Besides, it’s no trouble. I’ve got to see to Piper anyway. And you’ve got Club business to worry about."
Opie didn’t react for a moment and then something in his expression crumbled. Lyla knew that look too. Knew it so well she wanted to reach out and hold him like he was a child. It was the look you got when you’d been fighting so hard to keep everything together in a world that didn’t give a damn about you, and where being passed over or ignored was better than the alternative, because the alternative was being kicked when you were already down—and then someone stopped and reached out a hand and helped you up. Did a nice thing for you that they didn’t have to, just like Opie had when he’d gotten Dog to drive Piper to school and her to Caracara.
Maybe she’d already paid him back for that a hundred times today, but this wasn’t about returning a favor. This was about paying it forward. Making the world a better place for someone else. Because you could.
With a smile, she reached out and gave Opie’s arm a squeeze. "Go on. Get your kids. And we’ll figure things out from there."