Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy.

A/N: this pretty plot bunny is a product of me getting buzzed. Hope you folks enjoy.

Marissa stared after the Mayans, fingering the knife in her pocket, pushing down the urge to gut them all. She always had to push down these homicidal urges, along with urges to watch others writhe in pain while she tortured them and laugh. She couldn't let anyone know, they wouldn't understand the constant blood lust and want of screams. They would all see her for what she was, fucked up and needing locked up. She was very aware there was something wrong with her, that she shouldn't have these thoughts, that's why she never acting on them. She was under no illusions that she was a mentally healthy individual, unlike so many others. So she reveled in watching the Sons as they fought in the ring or killed outside of it. Adrenaline rushed through whenever she thought about it, and she wanted to laugh manically.

Marissa wanted them all to bow before her in fear of the pain she could and wanted to cause them.

No one saw her like this of course. They just saw the meek and shy only female mechanic of Teller-Morrow that never said or did anything out of line. The woman who only got the job because she had so many references. No one saw the woman that wanted to beat her enemies so badly that she was bathed in their blood. Until the one day she looked into the dark eyes of a heavily tattooed bald man and he stared into her soul and spoke to her.

"I see you." At first there was shock, but then there was anger for seeing what she kept so carefully hidden. She ground her teeth and took a useless swing at him, which he easily grabbed and pulled her toward him. Happy shoved her against the wall and kissed her roughly, all tongue and teeth.

Marissa didn't even fight him. She could feel it in the way he touched her. He saw her for what she was. A killer like him, and he reveled in it.