Disclaimer: I only own my OC's and the plot line.

Allison lay on her bunk, and stared at the small calendar on the far wall. The print was so fine she that couldn't read what the dates were, but it did not matter because a series of black X's scribbledover each past day, told her all that she needed to know.

"Are you just going to lie there all day and stare at that calendar, Allison?"

The sound of her cellmate's voice from the bunk above her did not break her fixation on the calendar. After about five minutes of not responding; Allison spoke up in a very detached tone, "Today is November 14th, 2006. I've been in this place for exactly two years."

Allison heard her cellmate sit up and let out a large sigh, before she climbed down off of the top bunk. She groaned in frustration – she was in no mood to deal with one of Helen Josephson's, mother hen lectures.

"I don't want to hear about it, Helen."

Helen was the second cellmate Allison, had since she arrived at Chowchilla. Being fifty-nine years of age, definitely made Helen one of the older inmates in the facility. She stood 5'1 from the ground, and was quite plump around the middle which was due to living off low quality prison food, for the past thirty-seven years. The shiny bob of silver hair on top of her head brought out the softness, in her tired blue eyes.

Helen walked up to the calendar and without a word, took it off of the wall. She then stuffed it the crevasse between the wall, and the small stainless steel dresser that the two women shared.

"Hey, what the hell!" Allison roared in outrage. She got up and walked over to Helen, so that they were standing face to face.

"Honey, I've had thirty-seven days where I've felt like you do today. There is no point in dwelling on the fact that you have been prison for a certain number of years. There isn't one woman in this place who wouldn't want to turn back the clock, and do things differently – but we just can't," Helen said in a calm fashion.

Allison had a lot of respect for Helen, but this day, her mood was so black that she couldn't help but to roll her eyes. She let out an irritated huff before she replied, "I am very well aware of the fact that as a mere mortal, I do not possess the ability to manipulate the space-time continuum."

Helen narrowed her eyes, and looked at Allison from head to toe. A heavy feeling formed at the pit of her stomach because Allison, reminded her so much of herself at that age; relativity fresh in prison, still reeling over the men had screwed her over, and as angry as hell.

She knew that what Allison needed was patience, so – it was exactly what she was going to get.

"If you are so aware of it, I suggest that you comb your hair and wash your face. The guards will be here to escort us to the group meeting in twenty minutes."

Allison wrapped her arms around herself and grimaced. The absolute last thing she wanted to do, was to sit in a big circle with a bunch of remorseful, weak women; and listen to them blubber on and on about how their abusive boyfriends and husbands ruined their lives.

Sure, Allison was no different. She was put in jail because her husband had pushed her to the point of murder – but at least she had given it her all to get herself and Briella away from the prick. Allison also doubted that any of the other women in the group had their husband put them in the middle of a dick measuring contest, between a bunch of white trash bikers and the Italian Mafia.

Before Allison could reply, the cell door suddenly buzzed open and a male guard stepped inside.

"Let's go Lowrance, your attorney is waiting for you."

For the first time in several days, a grin spread across Allison's face. Rachel had come to her rescue!

Rachel was very relieved when the door to the private visitation room buzzed open and Allison shuffled inside, escorted by two prison guards. She had been waiting for close to an hour for Allison to arrive.

The faint musty odour and the dull beige walls were beginning to stress out Rachel. She had a touch of claustrophobia, so naturally she did not overly enjoy being in private visitation room in prison's, for too long.

As the guards freed Allison from her wrist and ankle shackles; Rachel took the brief interlude to reposition all of the papers on the table, one last time.

This day was a very important day because, this would be the first major step toward building Allison a solid appeal case. All of Allison's medical setbacks were hopefully behind her, so now it would be full steam ahead.

Once Allison was seated and the guards had left the two women alone - Rachel was the first to talk, "You're looking better today, Allison."

"I guess so…" Allison mumbled back, certain that Rachel was bullshitting her.

How she possibly look good, wearing a bright orange jumpsuit that was three sizes too big, and a pair of grey rubber clogs? She thought that her ghostly skin tone, combined with the grey bags underneath her eyes, made her look like some sort of demon from a horror movie. Never mind the fact that she hadn't bothered to brush her tangled hair or wash her oily face for the past two days.

Rachel let out a sigh. Allison's slouched posture, dimmed eyes and unexpressive tone, were sadly a common phenomenon she'd seen time and time again, with her clients whom felt defeated by their predicament.

"I uh, deliberately planned out meeting so that you'd miss the support group today," Rachel commented. She knew Allison well enough that the last thing she'd want to do was discuss Paul, on her two year anniversary of being locked up.

Rachel had advised her to take part in a support group within the prison, where inmates convicted of crimes related to domestic violence, worked out whatever issues or problems they might have. Due to the nature of Allison's case and her personality in general; Rachel knew that Allison loathed going to the group. However, at the end of the day when it came time to take her appeal to court, the judge would want to see that Allison had done everything possible to better herself, while incarcerated. Even if all she did was sit in an uncomfortable plastic chair for an hour straight, one day a week – the group still look good on paper.

Allison gave Rachel a weak smile, "thanks." She paused to sneeze before inquiring, "So, we are going to confirm the topics before you meet up with Juice?"

"That's right," Rachel answered while motioning downward to the stacks of papers laid out on the steel table, "all our ideas our outlined in these packages. Take your time and give them a good look over."

Allison set down the last page of the package Rachel had prepared. She stared at the array of papers spread out across the metal table. Seeing her life illustrated in cold, impersonal, black type gave Allison a somber sense of clarity.

Without lifting her eyes up from the papers, Allison asked, "So this is all of it, huh?"

"Yes, that's all of the topics and events that I am going to discuss with Juan Carlos," Rachel stated in a matter of fact tone.

"And Juice talking about all of this stuff will help out my case?" Allison asked still staring at the papers. She picked up one particular page between her right thumb and index finger, and turned it so that the print was facing Rachel. "Juice going on record about how as teenagers we lived off pork and beans for six months, will help me gain my freedom?"

"That example indicates how dedicated you are to the people you love in your life. When the judge sees the sacrifices you made when you took in Juan Carlos, after his Mother had passed away; it'll further exemplify your motherly instincts."

"Pork and beans…?" Allison retorted with raised eyebrows, still not believing that a judge would care about her diet as a teenager.

"It's a miniscule aspect I know, but every little bit helps," Rachel begrudgingly admitted.

Allison sighed and set the paper back down. She held her head in her hands and looked down at her lap, "It all seems good, but you have to remember – any topic even remotely related to the MC cannot be mentioned. If the MC finds out he is doing this for me, he'll probably lose his patch… or worse."

Rachel leaned over the table and placed a hand on Allison's arm. Her reassuring touch made Allison look up to her. "I promise you, nothing will be documented that could incriminated him, or the MC."

Allison bit her bottom lip and slowly nodded. She then looked up to the encaged clock, hanging up on the wall to her left. She had spent forty-five minutes with Rachel already; the support meeting would soon be over.

"Thank you. Also, thank you for stopping by today. It made my day a bit better," Allison told the truth.

"Anything for you, Allison," Rachel smiled as she stood up, and began to gather up the packets to put back into her briefcase.

After Rachel had collected everything, and knocked on the door so that she could be buzzed out; Allison blurted out a last minute thought, "Hey, remember not to mention Manny's name at all. Juice knows all about me having an affair with my neighbour, but what he doesn't know is that my neighbour was Herman Kozik… Juice will go postal if he finds out it was a club member."

As Rachel pulled open the door, she looked over left shoulder and replied, "I'll remember. I will stop by tomorrow to let you know how it goes with Juan Carlos, this afternoon."

Allison acknowledged her statement with a nod. She hoped like hell that Juice wouldn't bail at the last minute. He was the last person who could save her…

Rachel sat at a picnic table, holding onto her paper coffee cup like her life depended on it. Even though it was only 5:00pm, she was very exhausted from her long drive up to Rouge River. She had followed Allison's instructions to the letter; sit at the blue wooden picnic table by the creek, in Creekside Park. Also, to not raise any suspicions, Rachel had stopped at a gas station on the way and changed into plain clothes. She wore a navy hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants, and switched her briefcase out for a plain grey and white backpack.

If any other club member saw Juice, talking in a park with a lady in a black Gucci pantsuit – it would look very fishy.

Rachel kept scanning the cars slowly driving along the road, and the people walking down the pathway by the road, for a Porte Rican man with a mowhawk.

When she had spotted Juice, the plan was that she would get up and go to the restroom. Once she had returned; Juice should be sitting at the picnic table waiting for her.

Rachel pulled her cellphone out of the outmost pocket in her backpack and flipped it open. Her pulse began to quicken when she saw that it was 5:15pm, and there was no sign of Juice anywhere. She prayed that he didn't change his mind about helping out Allison.

Allison had already experienced what it's like when a loved one turns their back on you during a time of need. Rachel wasn't sure if Allison could survive such heartache again.

A few more minutes passed, and still no sign of Juice. Then out of nowhere, the roar of Harley's disrupted the quaint, docile atmosphere of the park. There were two patched members parking their bikes in the parking lot across the road. Rachel stood up, and proceeded to the bathroom when she saw that the first biker to take off their helmet fit the description of Juice.

When she got out the bathroom, Rachel was shocked to see that Juice wasn't sitting alone at the picnic table. There was also another biker sitting beside him. He had longer blonde hair, and looked to be in his mid-twenties. Thankfully once Juice had seen her begin to head back toward the table, he said something to the blonde which made him get up and leave Juice alone; but not before shooting Rachel a scrutinizing glare.

Despite how antsy Rachel was when she sat down across the table from Juice; she didn't seem to show any sign of nervousness on the outside. She looked calm, cool, and very much collected.

Juice on the other hand, looked quite frazzled. His was hunched over the table, with his arms crossed and elbows resting on top of the table. Both of his legs were simultaneously, bobbing up and down at a rapid pace. Beads of perspiration glistened on top of his head, and ran down to his face.

"Juan Carlos Ortiz?" Rachel inquired as she unslung the backpack from her shoulders.

"That's right. I take it that you're, Rachel?" Juice asked in a wary tone as he looked over both of his shoulders to see who might be watching the pair.r

"Correct –"

Juice interrupted what Rachel was going to say. He straightened up his posture, and placed a hand into an inside pocket of his kutte, "look my buddy over there thinks that you are an old squeeze of mine who just got out of the can. Shit didn't go as planned today with SAMCRO's business up here today, so I lied and said I had to meet you here because you wanted to buy a little bit of weed. You got fifty bucks on you?"

"Uh, yes I do, but I'm not going to but drugs off of you," Rachel exclaimed feeling a bit baffled by the situation, as she opened up her backpack and grabbed her wallet.

"You're not – I filled the baggie up with basil flakes," Juice said as he pulled out a small plastic bag from his pocket.

Rachel pulled out a fifty dollar bill from her wallet, crumpled it up, and discreetly slipped it into Juice's hand when he handed her the baggie. She quickly threw the baggie it into her open backpack, and then looked around to see if anybody had seen the exchange. Nobody was close enough the see what had happened, so she felt a bit more at ease.

Juice placed the bill into his kutte pocket and surprised Rachel, when he pulled out a cheap looking, cellphone. He slid it across the table and explained as he got up, "It's a pre-pay. There's only my number on there. Call me tonight at quarter after eleven, and I'll give you a time and a place where we can meet up alone to talk about, Allison."

Before Rachel could get in a word, Juice was already walking away from her and back to where his bike was parked. She snatched up the phone and placed it into her backpack. She then got up, and began to walk over to the parking lot on the other side of the park, where she had parked her own vehicle.

Juice's actions were unexpected, but at least he made an effort to let Rachel know that he was on board with helping out.

Rachel would just have to wait until later that night to see what would happen next.

A/N: So I apologize this took so long to get out, and that it not as long as all of my other chapters. I know this may seem irrelevant now, but instead of just barfing up background info about Allison past before she met Paul, and Juice's Allison's relationship - I thought Juice's meetings with Rachel is a creative way to present this information. There will be about 2-3 of these interludes in story, when appropriate. Also, as a reader you should pay attention to Helen... ;)

I'll get back to the whole Allison in Charming fiasco next chapter, and don't worry - there will be drama galore!

I am sorry my updates are so irratic - my schedule is really weird right now :( But anyways, thanks to all of my reviewers. Also, thanks for all of the favorties/follows! I totally can't believe that 100 people are following this in just 8 chapters!

Thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this and please leave a review! :))))