A/N This story takes place vaguely in early season 2, maybe a bit earlier. I'm leaving the timeline murky. Standard disclaimer applies.

The stoic biker watches as the late model Challenger comes to a stop in front of the pumps. They had been traveling in the same direction for several miles now, both now choosing to stop for gas as they approached the outskirts of Charming. He had only gotten a distant glimpse of the driver before and he watched intently as first one bare foot, then the other step out of the vehicle.

Damn, he thought those bare feet are attached to the longest legs I think I've ever seen. The driver of the car was a tall woman with long brown hair braided down her back, yet still falling past her well rounded ass in jean cutoffs. Nice. Her face was half hidden by oversized sunglasses but he didn't care. At this distance he enjoyed the view he was getting from behind as she pumped her gas.

Finished filling his own tank, he notes the car pulling away as he heads into the quick-mart to pay and get a water, his mind already moving back to his recent visit with his terminally ill mother. It was painful to watch her die. She did the best she could for him his whole life and always supported him. Now it was his turn to take care of her. He had moved down from Tacoma, to be closer to her, giving up his Tacoma charter affiliation and going Nomad. The Sons took care of their own in times of need. He was making Charming his home away from home right now, and that seemed to be working for him and the club.

His head cleared of all the bad shit as he got back on the bike for the remainder of the trip back to Charming. As he approached the next intersection, he again saw the black Challenger idling at the light. He pulled up along side the car as he waited to turn left. He stole a glace at the driver. The sunglasses were still covering her eyes but he could see and hear her singing along at the top of her lungs to some George Thorogood. He smirked to himself at her off key rendition.

And that's when she noticed him. She turned her head slightly and sees the smirk. A light blush covers her cheeks, just before she shrugs her shoulders and offers an embarrassed smile. He couldn't help himself from genuinely smiling back. He liked it when a woman could laugh at herself. It meant she was comfortable in her own skin. She offered a genuine smile of her own before her light turned green.

As he waited for his arrow, he watched her pull away, he senses coming alert at seeing what was going to happen but unable to stop it. A dump truck came barreling through the intersection T Boning her car and pushing it past the intersection. The car hit the curb then flipped over a few times before landing on its side against a large tree.

The biker wasted no time getting to the smoking car. The crushed passenger side was in the air, the drivers side against the ground, with the cars underbelly facing the road. He can't see anything through the shattered safety glass of the windshield. Climbing up he found his way to the mangled passenger window. The opening that remained was too small for him to fit through, but he could see the unconscious driver still belted in her seat. He called out to try and get her attention.

"Hey, you all right in there? Hey, wake up for me. Common legs talk to me."

Over the hissing of the car fluids hitting the hot engine and the noise and chaos on the scene, he heard a low groan, and saw some movement from inside the mangled car. He called out again. "You all right in there?" When he received no reply he continued. "Don't try to move around just yet ok? Can you hear me?"

"Shit" was the strangled reply. He could see the trapped driver reach out towards her seatbelt release.

Hey now, hold on there Legs, Don't push that button just yet, I don't know how injured you are. I checked out the car, you are safe for right now, no fire or anything. Let's wait on the EMT's. They're just a few minutes out. Can you tell me what hurts?"

"What doesn't?" Was the pain filled reply. "My chest hurts, so does my left arm and my back. Fuck me! This sucks."

His gravelly voice gave a quick, sharp laugh. "Yeah it sure does. You're lucky to be alive, that fucker didn't break for the red light at all. Hang on, I can hear sirens, so you'll be out in no time."

The police were on the scene first; it took longer for the fire and rescue to arrive than he thought it should. That was made clear by the periodic curses interspersed a steady stream of conversation that he kept up, giving her a rundown of what was going on around them. The rescue team finally arrived and got to work on the extrication. Forty minutes later, they were able to safely remove the driver from the vehicle. As they collared her and placed her on a backboard she appeared to have a moment of panic and called out to him "Wait! Are you still here?" He watched as she brushed away the EMT's for a moment until she heard the newly familiar deep voice acknowledge her.

The biker stepped forward and looked down at her face. The face he hadn't fully seen until now. The sharpest blue eyes he'd ever seen bore into his leaving him feeling oddly moved, and slightly exposed.

"Thank you", she said as her fingers gently brushed against his hand as the EMT's wheeled her away toward the ambulance. He simply nodded in acknowledgement of her words.

He watched the ambulance pull away then starts for his bike. As a cop intercepts him to get a witness statement, he looks after the departing ambulance knowing exactly where it's heading.

He'll just check up on her a little later.