Baby, It's You

Author's Note: 'Sup all. Been a while since I posted anything, mostly due to being really distracted, what with finals and all. And then I started my summer work, which basically leaves me too dead-tired at the end of the day to do anything. But I'm all adjusted and what have you, and have been inspired by the show, The Sons of Anarchy. Hence this little tid-bit. It took me all of two episodes to decide I was smitten with Chibs, and shortly after, abandoned work on my other Boondock fic, (Again), and started in on this. Anyway, this is strictly a pilot chapter (hence the title), but as you may have guessed, it became rather successful. As a side note, this was originally called "Sex and Oranges", because it's my favorite line, but I listened to a song, by the same name, and was struck with the urge to re-title it. So I did. I think it suits it better.

Chapter 1: Pilot

Chibs had always had a thing about red hair. Probably just in the blood or some such thing, long history of red-headed Scottish women in his family and what have you, even if his wife had more or less broken that trend. That said, those lovely locks, not quite red, not quite brown, just touching her shoulders in a sexy, teasing fashion, were only the first thing that gave him a wicked hard-on for Claire Reinhardt that very first day she had all but dragged her Volkswagen Jetta, in desperate need of an oil change and the brakes about to go, into Teller-Marrow. She'd been too nervous to ask anybody for help. He remembered that well; rather than interrupt anyone, shy little Claire had stood patiently by the office door, and waited for someone to ask her what she needed, shuffling her feet the whole time.

Looking back, it seemed like he would have noticed her right away. However, as luck had put it, Jax had seen her first. The lad had a radar for pretty women. Or, they had a radar for him, as the case may be. Either way, Jax had sauntered on over to her, and asked her what was what.

The first time Chibs had seen her, moments after this, she'd been walking at Jax's side, pointing out the obvious damage to her car, and he had been instantly in lust. After the hair, his eyes had gone straight to the legs. Long and lovely, clad in fitted skinny jeans that ended in suede slouchy boots, showing off shapely thighs and calves, they were the second thing he'd become smitten with. They were fucking beautiful, and absolutely meant to go around his waist. He'd sidled over himself then, looking in to what the damage was for himself, though he'd been able to tell right away that it was just a classic lack of maintenance. He wouldn't let himself believe, even now, that he would have taken any excuse to get within five feet of the girl.

"-between the brakes and the transmission, it'll probably take a few days. Maybe a week if we end up having to replace the rotors too, we don't stock much for Volkswagen." Jax had been saying.

"Suppose I would have had better luck if I had a Harley, huh?" She had glanced around the garage with a sort of neutral interest, holding her eyes on Chibs for a moment longer than the rest of the scenery, likely because he was walking towards them. She turned her head back to Jax. "But I hear you guys are the best, so I thought it'd be in my best interest to come here."

"Good call girly. Though I don't think yer little Jetta would've made it much further anyway," Chibs added in.

She shuffled, looking embarrassed. "I know. I haven't been taking care of it. I've been distracted, moving and stuff. This is my first week in Charming."

There was a look exchanged, Chibs and Jax having more or less the same thought. New girl in town meant the ground rules would have to be laid out, before she got into any trouble. And though she didn't seem the sort into drugs or hooking, and Chibs had no doubt Hale would jump the gun for little miss girl-next-door-beauty, she should know where to turn in the event she needed some real help. For now though, they would just fix her car, no need to drop things like SAMCRO on a body when they hadn't even unpacked yet.

"Alright, well, fact of the matter is, you'll have to leave the car with us for a couple days, so why don't you head into the office, fill out some paperwork with Gemma and drop off your keys?" Jax decided, "Have you got a way home or do you need a ride?"

"It's alright. I'll manage." She nodded, Jax pointing her back in the direction of the office.

"She's not half bad." The blonde said, once she was out of ear shot.

"Half bad? Open yer eyes Jackie-boy. I mean, I know yer all about Doc, but that girl'd have any red-blooded fella panting."

"You sound like you're interested Chibs," Jax grinned. "You thinking of propositioning the poor girl before she's even settled?"

"I ain't thinking. It's decided. Course, ya make a valid point, and seeing as I'm a gentleman, I'll wait till she's at least got her bedroom unpacked."

Jax laughed. "Alright, just make sure you don't scare her into suing us man. We can't afford the lawyer."

Two days later, Chibs ran into the minx at the market. Partially because he didn't like his beer supply getting below a certain amount, and partially because he'd seen that mane of mahogany-colored hair make it's stunning entrance. He hadn't followed her, per say, but that store had suddenly looked like the best choice. So, he'd parked his bike and made his way to the coolers in the back, running almost directly into her as he cut through the bread aisle. Same legs, different jeans, these looser with a hole in the knee, but the same boots and a tank-top that made him notice cleavage that had been hidden in a button-up during their previous meeting, as well as a tattoo following her clavicle, just peeking out around the fabric of her tank-top. He couldn't see enough to guess what it was, but the fact that quiet Miss Claire had a tattoo at all made him guess that she wasn't as reserved as she seemed. The thought that she had a wild side buried in there somewhere had his jeans suddenly feeling snug.

At first, she gave him the look most people gave someone strutting through a store in leather and sunglasses, amber-brown eyes zeroing in on him with a hint of scrutiny, but then, evidently remembering him, a shy smile graced her lips. "Hi."

"Hi yerself." He nodded his head to her. "How's Charming treating ya so far?"

She shot a tiny, almost unnoticeable glare at the bagels before her. "So far you're the only person who has said 'hi' back to me."

"Curse of a small town I'm afraid, sweetheart."

"Yeah, I guess." She sighed, grabbing a bag of blueberry bagels and adding them to her shopping basket. They were silent for a few moments. It took him until he'd unconsciously followed her to the produce to realize he probably seemed pretty creepy.

"How have you been getting along without your car?" Chibs piped up, hoping to re-break the ice.

"Okay I guess. I've got a bike, I mean, a bicycle, not a motorcycle, so that's been working out okay."

"If ya don't mind me asking, where do you live?"

"I mind."

"I don't want to stalk ya, sweetheart. I'm just curious how far yu've got to carry all those groceries, and how you'll get them all in a bike basket."

She went totally tense for a moment, her hand pausing in midair with a tomato. He wondered vaguely if she planned to throw it at him, not believing that he wasn't planning to follow her home. But then she huffed in an agitated fashion. "Damn. I didn't even think of that, I don't even have a basket. I live out on Westerfeld Road."

Chibs' eyebrows shot up behind his sunglasses. "Ya biked five miles into town? For groceries? Shit, if ya lived that far out, why didn't you ask for a ride from the garage?"

"I didn't want to bother anyone." She shrugged, "It was a nice walk. Guess I'll just take the bagels then. That's probably all I can manage without killing myself..." She set the tomato back in the produce stand. Chibs picked it back up and put it in her basket again.

"A girl needs food, 'specially considering yer just moving in. Tell ya what, if ya buy my beer I'll give ya a lift. Fair trade right?"

"On your motorcycle?"

"Well, I certainly don't plan to carry ya there." He grinned, but she was chewing her lower lip when she glanced at him.

"I've never ridden before." She admitted quietly.

"Nothing to it. Ya just hang on to me. Cross me heart, yu'll live." He raised an index finger to draw a little X over his chest.

"Are you sure? It's pretty out of the way, isn't it? And it's not like you've got much more room, right?"

"If ya keep making excuses, I might think ya don't like me."

"I don't even know you." She seemed indignant.

"I'm Chibs."

"Excuse me?"

"The name's Chibs."

"Your parents named you that?"

"Course not. It's a nickname of sorts."

"Is there a story?"

"For another time sweetheart. It's a long one. But, ya tell me yer name, and we can say we know each other, and then it'll be a non-issue."

She glanced back at the rack of tomatoes in front of her, then turned back to him, with the same shy smile as before. "I'm Claire."

"Pretty. Suits ya," Chibs said, sticking a hand out to her. She complied, hand vanishing into his gloved fingers. "What else do ya need?" He nodded to her grocery basket.

"Not much. Maybe a couple frozen dinners until they get my wiring all checked out..." Claire shrugged, sounding unsure.

"Freezers are this way." Chibs reached to set a hand on her lower back and lead her, and Claire didn't seem to mind. A little thrill went through his system when she didn't step away. Their close proximity gave him a tantalizing whiff of whatever perfume she was wearing, a perfect blend of musk and citrus. It made Chibs think of sex and oranges. He was going to love having her glued to him on the road, no matter how short a trip it may be. Not only that, he could help her out a bit in terms of getting along in Charming with this little outing. All folks in the immediate area were naturally a bit put off by outsiders, as he'd said, the curse in a small town. But if they knew she was alright with the Sons, which they would, seeing one escorting her through the grocery store, then they'd be more accepting.

"So, uhm...Chibs?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"First, please don't call me 'sweetheart', I'm not entirely comfortable with it. Secondly, is it common policy for the local thugs to escort the new girl in town around here?"

"Thugs? We're not thugs lovely. We're just a group of mechanics who like Motorcycles."

"Isn't that what they all say?"

"I donno. Like I told ya, we're not thugs." He stepped around her to pull the standing freezer door open, gesturing to the small array of frozen meals inside. "Besides, I think yu'll find we're pretty well-liked around here."

"Town heroes or something?"

"If ya want to be grand about it, sure."

"Alright then. I suppose there are worse people I could associate with." She ducked her head into the freezer, selecting two of the dinners, both of the low-calorie variety Chibs noticed, and dropped them into her basket. "Are you sure about this? The ride I mean. Isn't it going to be a huge inconvenience taking a stranded girl and all her groceries home on a motorcycle?"

"Not to worry sweetheart. Er, sorry. Would ya prefer Claire?" He quickly amended when she gave him a look that seemed strangely offended.

"Yeah. Claire is fine." She smiled at him, a real one, not the shy, unsure ones from earlier. It about knocked Chibs off his feet. She was just so damn pretty, and not in the way that had him thinking a quickie in the back room. More in the way that made him want to do nothing but look at her for as long as he could, like a Madonna. Damn, when was the last time a girl had done this to him? Right. He'd wound up married to her. Maybe this was dangerous territory he was in, but he found it hard to care. Besides, he'd already promised her a ride, and Chibs Telford was nothing if not a man of his word.

They made it to the cooler for Chibs to get his beer, having a halting conversation as they went. Claire wasn't the sort that shot the shit, he learned that quickly. She said what she thought, and that was that. He found it admirable, the way she made herself clear. Even if she was a tad shy.

Ten minutes later, after fighting their way through a queue with a particularly grouchy woman who insisted a two months expired coupon was still good, the mismatched pair were in the parking lot, Chibs attempting to stuff her produce into the saddle bags on his bike, without somehow squashing the tomato. He had only successfully gotten his beer in place by taking it out of the cardboard carrier and balancing the bottles on top of the food stuffs. Now it was a matter of fitting the tomato safely in between the bottles.

"All set." He announced, snapping the flap into place, and straightening to look over at Claire, who had taken a position in the empty parking space next to his, her arms crossed in a fashion that he was beginning to recognize as defensive. "Come on now, I promise ya won't get hurt."

"But I've never even been on one of these things."

"Luckily, I've been on 'em every day of my life since I was a kid. Here." He held his helmet out towards her, to which she gave him a skeptical look, not reaching for it. "I've only got the one, and I'd prefer that ya wear it, just to be safe."

"Will you be okay without it?" Her fingers left their place, hidden under her arm, to reach hesitantly for the proffered helmet.

Chibs felt a smile curling his lips. "I'm touched yer worried, but I'll not have ya riding without a helmet, considering it's yer first time and all."

"Hmph. And here my mother always told me chivalry was dead." Claire stepped back towards him, gingerly taking the helmet from Chibs' hand. "Even if that could have easily been made a sexual joke, I'm going to pretend like you were just being polite."

"Nothing but sweetheart."

She gave him an eyeroll, but let the pet-name go, sliding the black plastic over her silky hair. He reached over to fasten and tighten it for her, and then gave a grand arm-sweep, inviting her to board the bike. And damned if there was no better sight than a beautiful woman straddling a motorcycle. He had a feeling concentration would be difficult.

Chibs swung himself into place in front of her, conscious of the fact that Claire made sure there was as much space as possible between them. Which, on a motorcycle, amounted to about an inch, maybe two.

"So I'm just supposed to hang on to you?" Her voice was nearly drowned out when he started the engine.

"Less ya want to fall, yeah, that's the general idea." In response, he felt her hands tentatively at his sides. She was lucky he wasn't ticklish. Chibs let the bike roll two feet, and her tune changed immediately. She was suddenly pressed flat against his back with her arms clenched around his middle so tightly he actually thought he might have trouble taking a deep breath.

"Sorry." She sounded embarrassed, her breath brushing his ear. "Like I said, never done this before."

"Well hell Claire, ya need to get a little adventure in yer life sometime," Chibs said, trying to ignore the fact her could feel just how soft she was, even through layers of clothing as he turned his head to evaluate her. The whispering in his ear thing certainly wasn't helping matters. "Would ya prefer I call someone?" The idea wasn't his favorite, but if it honestly made her more comfortable, Chibs was willing to swallow his pride on the matter.

She gave him a somewhat-forced smile. "No, that's okay. You're the only person I actually know anyway. I'll be fine. Just uhm...don't go too fast, okay?"

He could have pointed out that he hadn't even take his feet off the ground all the way a moment ago, but decided against it. That might have her deciding she'd rather hike.

It took Claire a good ten minutes before she was willing to open her eyes and see the world rushing by with no glass or metal separating her from the scenery. The wind blinded her, making her eyes water, but she soon figured out tilting her head down to shield her eyes behind Chibs' shoulder made for an effective wind block. Part of her was still unsure about this. Without that disarming smile of his, she'd bet Chibs was damned intimidating. Leather and tattoos, sunglasses hiding his eyes both of the times she had seen him, and those scars marking both sides of his face. She didn't even want to think how he'd gotten them. Not to mention she didn't really know his name, or anything else about him for that matter; she just had a wild guess that he was Irish or Scottish. That is, if her ear for accents was any good. But, scary appearance or not, she found him appealing at the same time. Chibs was laid-back, animated, and funny, and she had always found tattoos and accents attractive, though he was the first where she'd been lucky enough to find these two qualities blended together; not that she'd have any room to judge people with tattoos anyway, she had plenty of her own. Also, if she was going to be totally honest with herself, the scars intrigued her more than they scared her. And biker or no, she didn't know a whole lot of people who would go so out of their way for someone they didn't really know, without the promise of compensation. She'd never been very good at reading people, but she got the feeling that Chibs was a man she could trust. Even now, astride a very dangerous machine, she felt unreasonably safe, so long as she didn't allow any air to get between them anyway.

"Y'okay?" Chibs shouted over his shoulder, probably noticing her trying to block her face from the harsh wind.

"Yeah, I'm good," She shouted back, unsure of whether she'd actually been loud enough for him to hear. When he didn't ask again, she figured he must have.

He guided the motorcycle around and between the pot holes on Westerfeld Road with practiced expertise, as though he rode through them every day. Maybe he did. His 'just mechanics who like motorcycles' shpeal had fallen a little short of convincing. Maybe he and his biker friends just went around patrolling Charming and its surrounding rural communities on a regular basis, and he knew all the roads this well.

"Where's yer place?"

"A little further. It's just passed the big sign for Redwood Estates."

Really, you might say the single two-bedroom one bathroom house was Redwood Estates. It sat awkwardly on the edge of several empty lots, with only a single large cedar tree for company, overgrown grass sprawling for several acres on either side, which then vanished into the local forestry. One strip of asphalt went by the short driveway, ending about five hundred feet beyond her porch in what would have been the cul-de-sac of the subdivision her house was once meant to be a part of. When she had asked her realtor why it had never been finished, his only explanation was that local law allowed for only the single house to be built in the area, leaving the cleared out lots to go feral again, despite all the work that must have gone into flattening them. She didn't mind though. She had privacy, the shade of the giant cedar, and was well out of the way of any trouble, should it ever come to town. But considering the most threatening thing she'd seen so far was Chibs, she figured the chances of that were pretty slim. He didn't seem all that dangerous, at least, not to her. But she got the impression no one would dare stop him if he felt the need to beat the hell out of someone. She'd just have to stay on his good side.

The bike arced elegantly into the driveway, Chibs sliding to a stop a mere foot from the steps leading up to the small porch, complete with a swing that had been bolted in by the contractors. She had yet to sit in it, not sure whether she really cared for it. It seemed too...old lady-ish.

"Welcome home," Chibs said, looking over his shoulder to smile at her. She realized then that though the bike had come to a full stop, and he had cut the engine, she was still plastered against him like a second skin.

"Sorry." She let go so quickly she almost lost her balance, blushing vibrantly. He seemed impervious to her less-than graceful behavior, holding her arm to steady her until she was safely back on her own two feet. He followed suit, even though she was handing the helmet back, figuring he'd take off as soon as she got her food. However, it seemed he was planning to stick around, dangling the protective gear from the handlebars. Chibs fished his beer out so she could get to the plastic bags underneath, gathering the produce he had balanced on top, and then the two of them stood awkwardly in the driveway. She was looking at her feet, unsure what he was waiting for, being too nervous to look him in the eye and not sure what to expect.

"Ya gonna need a ride to work in the morning?"

"What?" She glanced up, stunned. She hadn't been expecting such a question. It almost seemed too friendly.

"Ya still don't have a car, and yer bike is still in town. If ya need to get to work, I can come 'round and collect ya. I'll bring the truck though, so ya don't have to worry about any rumors calling ya a biker chick." He grinned at the last phrase.

"Oh. No. I uh, I don't have one yet. I was looking when my car went kaput. Don't worry about it, I can hold my own until the Jetta is fixed." She smiled, touched at his concern for not only her job-security, but knowing how it would look getting dropped off to a job on the back of a motorcycle. On the other hand, that didn't seem to be a huge issue in Charming. "So...It's getting kind of late-" She began again, after a mild silence, but Chibs only raised his hands, as though she had shouted at him.

"Alright. Hint taken. I'll leave ya be."

He turned back to his bike, and Claire could only gawk. That wasn't what she had wanted to imply at all. How could he think she'd just send him off without even offering him dinner after all that he had done for her today?

"No, Chibs, that's not what I meant." Surprising herself at her daring, Claire practically leaped from her porch steps to hook her free hand around his elbow, plastic bags flying around in the other. "I wanted to ask if you wanted some dinner. It is getting kind of late, like, dinnertime late. So I thought I could at least offer you that after you went so far out your way. Though, I can kind of admit frozen dinners aren't really much, but I don't have anything but the microwave working..."

He just sort of stared at her for a minute, or she thought he must be; it was hard to tell, what with the sunglasses and all, before a pleased sort of smirk crossed his face.

"In my experience," Chibs began, turning so that her arm was linked with his, a pair of beers hooked in his fingers, "-nothing tastes bad with good company."

"You're chronically charming, you know that Chibs?" She asked, unable to suppress the smile winding its way around her lips. She pried open the screen door, nearly brand new and unwilling to move already, digging her keys out of the pocket of her jeans. Two locks had been installed on the house when she'd bought it, the third she had added, just to be safe.

"Pretty heavy hardware," Chibs observed. "What are ya trying to keep out?"

"A whole army of crazy ex-lovers," She informed, biting back a laugh at the very idea. "No, I just like my privacy, that's all. And I used to live in a pretty big city, so it's sort of a habit to have good locks."

"Where from?"

"Oregon. Portland area. It's not bad for the most part, but there are some crazies that come out at night."

"Can I ask what brought ya all the way to California?"

"My family."

"Ya got family here?"

"No. I wanted to get away from them. I figure almost two states between us should be enough to keep them out of my hair."

"Ah." Was all Chibs offered in response. She was honestly glad he pressed no further, she didn't like getting into the complicated family dynamics. Especially the way they had been just before she left.

She led him through the den, where the movers had stacked all the boxes from her move. They had arrived almost a full day ahead of her, and by the time she had gotten here, they had mostly already unloaded the truck, and she hadn't the heart to ask them to move the boxes again. She was going to have to go through them one at a time and figuring out which room she wanted to be what. All she had set up so far was her bed and her clothes, the bed only having a single fleece blanket, her sheets still buried in the mess somewhere. She and Chibs wove through the maze to the kitchen, where she had to move a stack of books from the table to the counter to make any sort of room for him.

"Sorry about the mess. I wasn't exactly expecting...well, anybody actually."

"No complaints here." He shrugged, and took the seat she had cleared for him. To her almost-surprise, Chibs finally removed his sunglasses, setting them on the table, before promptly popping the cap off his beer bottle using the edge of the table. He sat the other at the seat across from him, apparently meant for her. She didn't really know what she had been expecting him to be hiding behind the shades, but for some reason, it surprised her to see how he looked without them. His dark eyes were much softer than she had thought they would be. He looked...older, but not old. More like he had seen a lot more than most people could tolerate. Then again, she reminded herself, she wasn't the greatest at reading people. For all she knew, Chibs was just tired. She didn't really have a guess how old he really was anyway, so she'd best not make any judgments.

Claire busied herself with the microwave, the one of the two working appliances she had found so far in the house. The oven's wiring was all wonky, cords crossed where they shouldn't be, and the realtor had warned her not to use it until they fixed it, for fear of lighting her house on fire, and the fridge had never been connected in the first place. She was still working on figuring that one out. But the microwave and dishwasher worked just fine, as far as she could tell.

"Would you prefer marinara chicken or pesto chicken?"

"Both sound like hippy foods to me."

She smiled. "Marinara is like spaghetti sauce. You can have that one."

"Deal." He returned her smile, though his eyes were wandering around the kitchen. "Y'know, I've always wondered what the inside of this house looked like."

"Were you looking into buying it?"

"Nothing like that. I just remember when they were trying to build this, and nobody wanted it here. Didn't turn out half bad, considering all the angry townfolk throwing petitions at it. I didn't think they'd ever even get it finished"

"Yeah, they mentioned that when I bought it. That's why there's only one. I guess this was supposed to be an urban development site or something, but they couldn't finish it. Some kind of local law I think."

"In a manner of speaking," Chibs snorted. She wasn't sure what to make of that, so she let it go.

"Do you think anybody will give me trouble about it?"

"Nah, yer fine. They just didn't want a subdivision is all. Too many people. And it woulda ruined the town's whole image."

"You sound like you were one of the people who signed." She observed mildly. Chibs' mouth quirked up on the left side, making the scar stand out sharply.

"That was before I knew such a pretty girl would be living in it."

She just shrugged away the forming flush in her cheeks, unable to tell whether he was just being Chibs, or he was flirting with her. She wasn't opposed either way. He was the only person she knew in the entire town, and it was nice to know he was willing to be her friend. Or more. She liked that idea too. Which was odd, seeing as she'd just met him. He was just so likable.

"Here." She brought the two plastic trays and salvaged forks to the table, sitting opposite Chibs, and trying to figure out how he'd opened the beer on the table, fiddling with the cap on the table-edge. She looked up to see him watching her with a look that said he was trying very hard not to laugh. "How'd you do that?"

"Gimme that. There's a trick to it." He reached across the table and pulled the bottle from her hand, snapping it off as easily as he had his own, handing it back. "I'll teach ya sometime."

"Helpful trick to know."

Chibs nodded, spearing a noodle on his fork, and popping it in his mouth. "Hey, for being cooked in a microwave, this isn't half-bad."

"Yeah, I'm a terrible freaking cook, so I managed to find some of the better ones, after much taste testing."

"Well, thank heaven ya didn't offer to cook fer me then." Chibs grinned. He glanced around the cluttered kitchen again. "What made ya pick Charming of all places?"

"I dunno. Luck really. I was actually looking at a place in Monterey, but I saw the ad for this on my way back. I guess the idea of living in a small town sounded really nice, so I decided to buy this house instead."

"Just buying a house on a whim?"

"I guess you could say buying this house, specifically, was a whim; but I've always wanted a house of my own, I've been saving since I was sixteen. Planning my great escape I guess you could say." She drifted off, figuring there was no reason to unload her life story on Chibs. But he was quiet, took another bite, and seemed to be waiting for her to continue. "My family and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye," Claire finally offered, feeling weird with the silence. She picked at her food. "We never have. They had a whole plan for me, taking over the family business and all that shit. I never wanted that. So I worked a lot of long hours and saved enough money to buy myself a little house by the beach. But at the last minute, I decided this sounded better. And it cost about half as much. Suppose I thought it was fate."

"Well, who are we to argue with fate?"

"Yeah, that's kinda how I felt too." Claire smiled. "Okay, enough about me, can we talk about you now?"

"Suppose. Whaddya wanna know?" Chibs finished off his beer.

"For now, just if you're Irish or Scottish. I can't tell and I don't want to assume anything."

"Scottish. Did spend some time in Ireland though, mighta picked up a little of the accent." Chibs looked as though the thought had never really crossed his mind.

"What were you doing in Ireland?"

"This and that. Working mainly, odd jobs and things of that nature."

Similarly to the 'mechanics who like motorcycles' story, this fell a little flat of believable. But she didn't push. If it was something he wasn't supposed to have been doing, she would really rather just not know.

"That all ya wanted to know?"

"Well, I guess I was kind of curious whether you would ever tell me your real name."

"Maybe someday." He smirked, pushing himself out of the chair to rinse out the food tray and beer bottle setting them on the counter next to the sink. "But I think ya'd have to get to know me a little better first."

"I think I'd be okay with that."

"Glad to hear it." He nodded his agreement, and really seemed to mean it. Then Chibs glanced at the clock set in the microwave, which told them it was currently seven-thirty in the evening. "As much as I'd love to sit here and get an early start on that, I have things I gotta do. So I think I oughta take my leave."

"Alright." Claire acquiesced, not wanting to keep him from any business he had, despite this being her only real social interaction since leaving Oregon a week ago. She walked him to the door, mostly due to the fact she didn't want him to get lost in her living room box-maze, but stopped at the porch as Chibs hopped down the steps.

"We'll give ya a call when the Jetta is done, alright?"

"'Kay." Claire nodded, tucking her arms around her middle, the evening air having chilled quite a bit since the shadows had begun to lengthen.

"Oh, and I know I said ya wouldn't have any trouble, but I can't speak for everyone in town. If anyone tries to give ya shit, call this number and ask fer me, okay?" He pulled a creased and faded business card from his jeans pocket, it looked like it might have gone through the wash a time or two, but the number printed below "Teller-Marrow" was still legible.

"Couldn't I just call the police?"

"Well, ya could," Chibs said, snapping his helmet into place, "-but in Charming, we like to handle our problems ourselves."

Trying to ignore just how much that made it sound like a lot of illegal activity went on, Claire waved him off, standing on the porch until the roar of the engine faded into a distant rumble, before ceasing completely.

Chibs.

She still didn't know what to think of him.

Conclusion: So...ta-da? This was basically just all introduction stuff. I sort of have it in my mind that this all goes on as a little side-plot to the show because, in my mind, Chibs doesn't get enough attention until he gets blown up. Anyway, this starts just before the first season starts, and it will (hopefully) get a little more romance and action as it moves on. I've always liked the classic Bad-boy/Good-girl kind of pairings. That'll be the main theme. Also, I tried to write Chibs' accent in for awhile, but was half way through when I decided to do that, and ended up being too lazy to change it all. So...Just pretend he has a Scottish accent, okay? You know the drill from here. :)