CP Bk III Chpt XII Turning & Turning Plans & Plots

by wanderingchat

Tig and Cat return to OR to retrieve the things left at the Madoc Home. Plans and plots are established on the road and in Charming as SAMCRO looks to retrieve Abel from Belfast.

The characters and events involving the Sons of Anarchy are the creation of Kurt Sutter.

No copyright infringement is intended.

Any use of lyrics and the mention of songs and performers in this text is also not intended to infringe upon any copyrights held by any of the artists.

All original characters that are not part of the SOA universe are products of my own imagination. Any similarities to real persons are pure coincidence.

Love and thanks go to the DH, who is very much alive and well; along with my best friend and my 'unofficial' god – daughter for being part of my family. Also, much thanks to the members of , , the Indy Tarts and Tartans Gerard Butler fan group, SOA Forums, Watchers of Anarchy, Kim Sisk (author of Sapphires and Whiskey), and my Facebook and Twitter friends for their support. A big thank you for those readers who have written reviews and listed me as a favorite author here at FanFiction. Net.

Finally, much thanks to Mr. Kurt Sutter for creating the SOA universe in the first place, and to Mr. Kim Coates for his excellent portrayal of Alex 'Tig' Trager.

Charming Pawse

Book III

Chapter XII

Turning and Turning

Plots and Plans

Cat limped through the dining area towards the hallway Alex had pointed out. Jean Peters, the church secretary who'd granted them access to the Madoc home, followed behind her. "I was surprised that Mrs. Teller left so suddenly after Rev. Madoc entered the nursing home."

"An emergency required her immediate return to Charming," Cat replied evenly. "The stress of committing her father and the frantic trip back home caused her to suffer an attack of arrythmia."

The church secretary gasped in shock. "Is she all right?"

"She's resting comfortably at the hospital," Cat assured her. She knew Alex was hovering near the basement stairs, listening to their conversation. She'd known he'd become tense when the woman mentioned Gemma's sudden departure. She nodded slightly to let him know she had the matter in control.

"Gemma - Mrs. Teller - had planned to return here after settling Rev. Madoc in the nursin' home to finish gettin' things ready for the estate sale. That's the other reason Alex and I are here. We don't have a lot of time to work, though," she added contritely. "My coffeehouse opens pretty early in the mornin', and I'm afraid these injuries put me at a wee bit of a handicap."

Alex stifled a grin at his wife's compelling story, which the church secretary was lapping up like a cat drinking cream. 'That's my girl! Thinks fast on her feet. She's got that broad wound around her little finger by playin' the sympathy card,' he thought proudly. He allowed himself to relax and turned his attention to retrieving the boxes form the basement. He told the young men Jean had brought along to help him to wait upstairs while he turned on the lights for them.

He intended to remove the duct tape from the wheelchair that had held the caregiver captive. 'Though Bachman did a thorough job on the cleanin', guess the wheelchair never figured into the equation.' Alex quickly cut the tape away and rolled it into a ball that he set on the worktable.

"OK, guys! C'mon down!" he called up the stairs.

Mrs. Peters' two sons trooped down the stairs. Alex pointed to the pile of boxes scattered over one part of the basement. "The boxes marked with 'Gemma' are the ones that're goin',"

"How do you want to do this, sir?" the eldest of the two inquired.

The youth's politeness threw Alex momentarily for a loop, but he quickly recovered. "Just carry 'em upstairs and out to the pickup!"

The younger piped up, "My brother wanted to know if we're just to stick 'em in the pick up any old way, or do you have a plan of some kind."

Alex's hand moved to the rub the bridge of his nose to hide his amusement. "Let's just get 'em outta the house first, then we'll worry about loadin' the truck. OK?"

The two youths nodded in agreement, each grabbed a box and hurried up the stairs. Alex also hefted a box and winced from a twinge in his injured shoulder before following them.

He exited the basement to find Mrs. Peters in the kitchen, busily packing non perishables in boxes. "What's goin' on?" he inquired as if he'd not overheard Cat skillfully manipulate the woman.

"Your wife suggested that I box up the foodstuffs for donation the local food pantry," she explained. "She said you have to be back in Charming before morning and things would move quicker if I took care of the kitchen while she cleared the bedrooms you and Mrs. Teller used."

'Good girl!' Alex thought approvingly. 'Keeps the broad from findin' out about the shootin'.' He hated leaving her alone to find the evidence of his injury. 'It's gonna look worse to her than it really is. I know I'll hear about it later!'

"There's somethin' about the power of suggestion," Cat murmured ruefully, wandering down the hallway of the Madoc home. Before she could start on the two bedrooms, she had a desperate need to use the facilities he'd pointed out to her.

Once her physical needs were tended to, Cat continued on down the hall. She soon determined which room had been occupied by Alex, Gemma, and Tara. It turned out that Tara's overnight and medical bags had also been left behind.

Cat started with Gemma's room, checking all the bureau drawers for clothing. 'I doubt that Clay packed much to send up to her. Men always think of makin' do with the least amount of clothing they can.'

She packed Gemma's duffel and set it outside in the hall for Alex or the helpers. Then she went to the room Tara had occupied to find that the physician's bags had already been packed. Cat went ahead with checking the drawers and closet for anything Tara might have forgotten before adding those bags to Gemma's.

Cat could hear Alex and the Peters boys carrying more boxes from the basement. 'Guess there's no puttin' this off any longer. It's not like I've not seen his blood spilled before!'

She squared her shoulders and limped into the bedroom, leaning against the door frame to survey the disarray that awaited her. The bed hadn't been made. The sheets were rumpled, and dried blood stained the bottom sheet where Alex's shoulder had rested. Another blood stain adorned one of two pillow cases.

'Shit! Nate winged him real good! Y'all got off lucky, lover!' Cat winced at the sight of the stained bedclothes. 'Guess Alex didn't think about changin' the sheets. Typical male!' She quickly stripped the bedclothes from the bed, rolling them into a ball so the stains couldn't be seen, adding them to the soiled linens she'd removed from Tara' and Gemma's beds.

She noticed with relief that the mattress and pillows were stain free. She threw the pillows back on the head of the bed and folded the bedspread so that it lay neatly across the food of the bed.

"Guess I left the joint a bit messy," Alex stated, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

"That's an understatement!" she sighed, glaring over her shoulder at him.

Alex shrugged and spread his arms in a gesture of surrender. "Hey, I'd have gotten around to packin' if we hadn't had to leave!"

"Yeah. I've seen your idea of packin'," she replied wryly, gathering up his clothes and stuffing them in the duffel. She found the laptop sitting on the dresser next to a rebuilt radio dating back to the 1930s.

"Wow! I'm surprised Gemma didn't want this! It's a classic." She had her injured arm out of the sling to work, and ran both hands admiringly over the cabinet. The polished wood felt like satin under her fingers. "Does it work or is it just a decoration?"

"It works. Gemma told me Nate had restored the thing years ago. Kinda like Blaine and that world radio of his."

"Though not as heavy!" she grinned.

"I accept that," he grinned back. "Ya like that, don't ya?"

"Guilty. Do y'all think Gemma would mind if we brought it back for her?" Cat's eye gazed longingly at the antique.

'She really wants that thing. I don't give a damn if Gem wants it or not. Cat obviously does, I'll buy the fuckin' thing for her if I hafta!' He shook his head. "Nah, she won't mind. We'll take it with us, baby. If the church lady asks, we'll figure out somethin' to tell her." He unplugged it from the outlet and hefted it in both hands. "I'll take it to the pick up while you finish packin' my stuff."

"Y'all aren't overdoin' the he - man routine are you?" she asked worriedly, staring intensely at his back for any seepage from the wound.

"Nah, I'm a'right, baby." He stared at the cleared bed, relieved for himself that there were no blood stains on the mattress and pillow. "Sorry you saw that, baby. It's really not as bad as the sheets an' stuff might make ya think."

"I know," she replied quietly. "I need a large garbage bag, or maybe a box to stow these bedclothes in. We can dump 'em somewhere along the way."

Alex shifted the radio to rest under one arm while reaching out with his free hand. He laid a gentle hand on her cheek, allowing the pad of his thumb to caress her bottom lip. "Good thinkin', baby. The boxes are all outside; the kids are packin' 'em in the truck bed. They say they can fix 'em so they don't bounce around. Figured I'd let 'em have their fun," he explained.

"We can put the radio, duffels, and my laptop in the cab with us," she advised. "I'll be finished in here once I find the laptop case."

She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling tired and forlorn. "I know how hard committin' her father was for Gemma, love. It's the worse feelin' a child can have about a parent."

"You're thinkin' of your step – mom and birth mother, aren't ya?" he asked softly, placing the radio on the dresser again so he could sit next to her on the bed. His hand guided her head to rest against his shoulder.

She nodded wearily. "You never think your parents are gonna reach that point where they can't take care of themselves. Your mind tells y'all you're doin' the right thing, but your heart rebels. It tells cries that you should've tried harder or found some other way. Guilt is a real motherfucker."

"Yeah. I guess you're right," Alex's free hand gently stroked her cheek. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, but he couldn't find the words. He nudged her with his body to get her attention.

"I kinda left things in a mess. Thought I'd have time to come back and pack," he murmured.

"That's you, everythin' in its' place, all over the place!" she grinned feebly. She gazed intently at him and added, "Thanks, love, for givin' a damn enough to listen."

He stood up and moved towards the doorway. "That's my job, baby. I'll get ya somethin' for that shit and be back in minute."

Cat picked up all his clothes, placing them on the unmade bed. She considered sorting the clean from the dirty, but didn't feel up to the effort. Instead, she wrapped her laptop in the pillowcase that wasn't bloodstained and placed it in the bottom of the duffel. Then she shoved all of Alex's clothing on top of it.

"Here ya go, baby," Alex flipped open a large plastic garbage bag and stuffed the soiled bed linens in it. He expertly tied the top closed.

"Where's Mrs. Peters?" she inquired, hefting the duffel in her good hand.

"She and her boys are packin' up the rest of the foodstuffs in the kitchen. She's got a small box of stuff to go to Nate - snacks and shit like that. I told her we'd take 'em by the nursin' home."

"Glad to hear y'all say that, love. Gemma was pretty upset that her dad had to be sedated last night. It'll be nice to be able to give her a first hand report of his condition."

"He might remember me. I talked to him a few times when he was coherent," Alex explained.

"If he's not in a good place, we can leave 'em for him with the admin office," she suggested. "I can always label each thing with his name."

"We'll see what happens, baby." Alex looked at his watch and performed some mental calculations. He wanted to take her by SAMRRO as a surprise to visit her friends in that charter. If they didn't linger too much longer in Klamath Falls they could make the side trip.

"Gemma's duffel is in the hallway. Wanna take a look around and see if I missed anything?" she inquired, shifting Alex's duffel into a more comfortable position on her shoulder.

Alex reached out to take the duffel from her. "Put that damn thing down, baby!"

She stepped away from him. "No way, Jose! Y'all got enough to carry! I'll handle this and the garbage bag."

Alex glared at her for a moment, then pushed her onto the bed, sliding the strap for the duffel bag from her shoulder.

"I'm a little less injured than you are, baby. You can carry the garbage outside to the truck. Use the front door so Mrs. Peters doesn't ask any uncomfortable questions. It's unlocked. I'll check around and be right behind ya."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Cat murmured, sliding off the bed and grabbing the garbage bag. She was surprised that it felt heavy in her hand. 'The damn thing's only got the sheets and a pillowcase in it for cryin' out loud! I can't be that weak!'

Alex gazed around the room, satisfied that he'd not forgotten anything. He leaned against the door frame to the bedroom, watching her progression down the hall. A sly smile lightened his face as he watched her butt move with each step.

Cat felt his eyes on her and flushed. "Gettin' an eyeful?" she grumbled back over her shoulder at him.

"Hell, yeah!" he whistled, following her to the front entrance and on out to the truck.

She walked out to the truck and opened the back door to the cab, sliding the garbage bag onto the rear seat. She sad that Alex had set the radio on the floor behind the driver's seat where it would travel safely.

Alex tossed the two duffels onto the back seat behind the driver's seat. "Hey, baby. There's a favor ya can do for me when ya go back inside."

"What's that?"

"Did ya see that curio cabinet in the dining area?"

"The one with the broken glass in it? What about it?"

"There's a bunch of figurines in there. Gem said one was her favorite. Think ya can retrieve it for me. I think she might like to have it."

Cat was quite familiar with Alex's fear of any kind of doll. Following their first night together, she had removed her Phantom of the Opera plush doll, her ancient Siamese cat plush, and her Panda bear from the bedroom. The Phantom and Panda had moved to the library, the Siamese stayed in the drawer of her bed table in order to make Alex more comfortable.

"Sure, love. Just tell me what I'm lookin' for."

Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose trying hard to remember what the figurine looked like. "Damn, baby! I didn't see it that well!"

"Just try, love," she insisted. "I know it's askin' a lot outta y'all, but any description is better than tryin' to take the whole kit and caboodle."

A picture flashed in his memory of the figurine Gem had placed on the table in front of him, just before he'd covered it with a napkin. He described the image for her. "That good enough?"

"I think so, love. Don't worry. I'll handle it," she assured him.

"Don't you dare laugh," he growled.

"Hey, you don't tease me about my phobia about vehicle tires in the dark, I don't tease y'all about your fear of dolls," she replied quietly.

They closed the truck doors and Alex walked to the back of the truck to check on the boys. Cat returned to the house to retrieve the figurine and help Mrs. Peters.

"Did you get your husband and Mrs. Morrow's things taken care of?" the church secretary inquired.

"All done," Cat replied airily. "How's this comin'?"

"Just about done. There's some refrigerated products that Nate can have, his room has a small refrigerator in it. I've already labeled everything that's going to him. The rest of this stuff will be taken to our food pantry."

Cat nodded. "That's good to know. I'm sure those who need the items will appreciate it." She withdrew her wallet from her pocket and withdrew a couple of $20 bills. "Alex and I would like to donate this to the pantry."

The church secretary gazed at the money for a moment, then reached out and took the two bills, placing them in her purse. "Do you need a receipt?"

"Only if the church requires it. Otherwise, don't worry about it," Cat replied evenly. "Don't wanna make more work for y'all. I hope it'll help."

"It definitely will," Mrs. Peters smiled. "Thank you."

"No problem," Cat shrugged, turning to the curio cabinet. "Gemma mentioned that she'd like to have a figurine from the cabinet. Would it be all right if I retrieve it? I'll pay for it if need be."

"Go right ahead, Mrs. Trager. No need to buy it. Whatever Mrs. Morrow wants is fine with me," Mrs. Peters replied.

Cat gazed into the cabinet, looking at the assemblage of Hummel sculptures. The one Alex had described was sitting prominently in the front on a shelf where she could easily access it. She removed it from the cabinet and wrapped it in a towel, shoving it in her coat pocket.

"Is this the box that's goin' to Rev. Madoc?" Cat inquired, pointing to the box on the counter.

"Yes. It's all ready to go," Mrs. Peters acknowledged.

Cat nodded and hefted it under her good arm, intending to carry it outside.

Alex entered the kitchen, spotted his wife attempting to lift the box, and sprang to her side. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! What do ya think you're doin'?"

"Carryin' this box out to the truck of course," she replied logically.

"That's what you think!" he growled. "Gimme that!" He wrestled the box from her and stalked to the truck, muttering under his breath about stubborn women.

Mrs. Peters and Cat exchanged amused glances. Cat's warm laugh followed him to the truck. He glared in her direction, making her laugh harder.

"I think you ruffled his feathers a bit," Mrs. Peters noted bemusedly.

"I know they're ruffled!" Cat snickered. "It's good for him!"

"I do the same thing to my husband," Mrs. Peters chortled, following Cat from the kitchen and on out the back door. She locked the outer door and followed Cat out to the driveway, frowning at the other woman's pronounced limp.

"Are you going to be all right?" she inquired, helping Cat climb into the pick up's cab.

"Sure," Cat assured her. Her smile felt a bit forced to her, but it must've reassured the church secretary.

"I imagine that 'he - man' of yours will insist on doing all the driving," Mrs. Peters observed.

"I resemble that remark!" Alex growled as he approached them. He'd gone off down the drive for a quick smoke and returned in time to hear the women talking.

"You usually do, love!" Cat grinned, resignedly pulling the seat belt into place before sliding her arm back into the sling. The wounded arm was throbbing from the work she'd done. 'Likely swollen like a hotdog in a microwave!'

"What's the time frame on the estate sale, Mrs. Peters?" Alex inquired, knowing Gemma would want to know.

"It'll be held on Saturday. Anything that doesn't sell at the estate sale and that can't be used by the church will go to needy families. If Mrs. Morrow thinks of anything else she might want, have her call me and I'll save it for her."

Alex nodded, accepted the piece of paper with her name and telephone number on it and stuffed it in his pocket. "A'right. I'll tell her. Appreciate the assist."

"My pleasure, Mr. Trager. Please give Mrs. Morrow my regards."

"We'll do that, Mrs. Peters," Cat assured her, freeing Alex to retreat gracefully to the driver's side of the truck. "Thanks for all y'all's help. We really appreciate it. We'd stick around to visit, but we've got to get this box to Rev. Madoc before we start the long ride home."

"It was our pleasure, Mrs. Trager. Have a safe journey," the church secretary replied. Her sons were waiting in the back of her car. She climbed into the Lexus and drove away, tooting a cheery farewell on her car horn.

Alex settled behind the steering wheel with a sigh of relief. "Ready to roll, baby?"

"Yeah, but I wish you'd let me drive to the nursin' home so you can rest a bit."

He winked broadly as he started the ignition. "I'll have plenty of time to rest later, baby. You look all in."

"Gee, thanks!" she pouted, leaning as far away from him as the truck cab allowed.

"Aw, c'mon, baby! Don't take it personally!" he protested. "I just meant that you prolly overdid and might like a cat - nap!" He placed a heavy, warm hand on her thigh, but she wasn't in the mood to be placated. She used her good hand to remove his hand from her thigh.

"Just drive, bucko!" she growled, lowering the brim of her fedora over her eyebrows.

Alex laughed and moved the gearshift into position so the truck rolled sedately along the driveway. 'Ya won't stay mad at me long, baby! Ya never do!'

Jax parked the van into its' regular place at the garage and switched off the ignition. As the nighttime quiet settled in, he leaned against the back of the seat and closed his eyes in fatigue, recalling the events of the evening.

The plan had seemed easy as he wrote it out and explained it to the club. Just catch Lucas by surprise, deliver him to Stahl and negotiate a deal that would benefit the club and his mother, as well as provide for the necessary time to get to Belfast and back to retrieve Abel.

Reality turned out to be a lot more involved. The only thing that had gone easily was getting the drop on Lucas, but that took a great deal of effort to accomplish.

Jax hadn't anticipated that Lucas would have his driver park the Range Rover in a well lighted area to make the gun drop. To complicate matters, Lucas had leaned against the passenger side of the Range Rover while his driver and the gun runners transferred the guns from the SUV to the sedan parked just a few feet away.

Jax had to crawl under the SUV in order to disable the starting mechanism. It was tough, tedious work. He had to do everything by touch and quickly. It didn't take much time for the transfer to be completed.

Sweating and breathing heavily, Jax managed the task just as the driver announced to Lucas that the job was complete. Jax relaxed his arms, ignoring the screaming pain in his muscles as he wiggled towards the rear of the Range Rover.

Lucas slid into the passenger seat while his driver walked around the back of the vehicle to the driver's side. Jax's sneakers came within mere centimeters of tripping the driver as he passed the rear of the SUV.

'Shit! That was way too close!' Jax waited until he saw the driver's feet move to the driver's side door, then wiggled out from under the SUV, crouching under the back windows. His muscles screamed again in protest, but he resolutely pushed the pain aside.

Staying in a crouch, he moved from the Range Rover to the back of the sedan, checking to make sure the car's occupants weren't paying attention to their surroundings. Satisfied that he had as much clearance as he could get, he remained crouched over and ran quickly to a nearby building.

He sighed with relief to have some semblance of protection from prying eyes. He stood up, shaking his arms and legs to relieve the cramped muscles. Then Jax quietly moved along the shadows of the building so that he could get to the front of the SUV in a hurry.

'If I know Lucas, he'll send the driver out to check the motor. I'll knock out the driver, then get the drop on Lucas.' He let out a deep breath and checked his gun. 'I hope this works out better than disabling the car did!'

The sedan loaded with guns rolled away from the SUV. The Range Rover's dome light had come on when Lucas and then the driver opened the doors, but the ignition refused to turn over.

Lucas grumbled a curse at the eccentricities of British manufactured vehicles, ordering his driver to check the battery. The driver hurried to comply. The moment he lifted the hood, Jax sprinted across the lot to the driver. He quickly disabled the driver by pistol whipping him in the back of the head, than moved to the passenger side door, opening it and hauling Lucas out of the seat while keeping his gun trained on Jimmy O's hapless lieutenant.

Lucas knew he was in deep shit the moment he saw Jax's gun in his face. Cold anger gleamed in Jax's eyes as he demanded answers from Lucas, answers that he didn't have. His eyes crossed and he felt an uncomfortable pressure on his bladder as he stared into the silencer of Jax's gun. The barrel's black mouth was as cold as Jax's eyes.

'Ah'm gonna dye, an Ah cannae gie Jax tha answer 'e wants!' Lucas was sweating; his heart racing as if he'd run a mile. For a brief moment, Jax's angry countenance was replaced with the visage of a grinning reaper skull.

His eyes pleaded with Jax. His skin had gone white and his pupils were wide with fright. He swore he didn't know where Abel was, much less who had him or why Jimmy O had lied about the child in the first place.

Jax pressed the gun into Lucas' fleshy cheek. Every instinct hollered at him to pull the trigger, but his mind won the battle. 'I need this man alive for leverage. Without him, my plan is dead in the water.' He grimaced, raised the gun above Lucas' head, and dropped his arm with as much force as he could muster.

Metal met bone with a sickening crunch, sending Lucas crumpling to the ground. Jax ran back to the van, retrieved a length of rope, and wound the rope securely around Lucas' body, making sure the knots were tight so that he wouldn't get loose. A second piece of rope securely bound his hands.

Jax sighed with relief and slid to the ground, panting from his exertions. He wished for a moment he'd brought Opie along to help maneuver Lucas into the van. 'I'm gettin' too old for this shit!'

He sighed and stood up, walking wearily to the van. He moved it as close as he could it to Lucas' prone, bound body. He left the motor running while he opened the back doors of the van, then hefted Lucas into a sitting position against the back bumper.

'I'll be lucky not to strain my back gettin' him inside!' Jax mused, toying again with the idea of calling Opie for help. He resolutely shook his head and forced the temptation away. He had to do this on his own.

"Looks like you could use a little help, brother," a deep familiar voice rumbled from the darkness. Opie stepped from behind a camper towards the van.

"When did you get here?" Jax inquired, hiding his relief from his friend.

"About the same time you did. Parked the bike down the road a piece and walked up. Nice work," Opie replied.

"Thanks. Disabling that Range Rover from underneath was a bitch," Jax grinned.

"I noticed. Let's get this piece of shit in the van and get outta here!" Opie grumbled, bending and lifting Lucas as if he only weighed as much as a sack of potatoes. Opie placed Lucas feet first in the van.

Jax climbed into the side door and grabbed Lucas' feet, helping Opie slide the large Irishman inside. Opie slammed the doors closed. Lucas never moved a muscle.

"You sure you didn't kill him?" Opie rumbled concernedly.

"Lucas may be thick headed, but I didn't hit him that hard," Jax quipped, wiping sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "He's still breathin'."

"Jimmy won't happy when he finds out Lucas is in Federal custody."

"Tough shit! Jimmy should've thought of that before he lied about my son!" Jax snarled.

"Yeah," Opie thoughtfully lit a cigarette. "Want me to help you get him to Stahl?"

Jax gazed intently at his friend. He was surprised the Ope would make the offer after what Stahl had put him and his family through just a few weeks ago. He shook his head as he lit his own cigarette. "Nah. Stahl would never believe I'm turnin' against the club if you're around. I've gotta do this on my own."

The two engaged in the standard 'bro hug double back tap' and Jax climbed into the driver's side of the van. "Wanna ride to your bike?"

Opie shook his head. "Nah. I'll walk. Good night for it. Call me if you need more help."

"Yeah," Jax replied, throwing the gear into drive.

He'd driven to the house Stahl rented and parked the van in the driveway. It was late, but a light in an upstairs window indicated someone was still awake.

Stahl, clad in a silk robe that was open to reveal the gown underneath, answered his brief knock. Her service revolver was securely held in one hand as she peered past Jax to make sure the other members of the club weren't lying in wait.

Jax assured her he was alone and unarmed. Stahl had a feeling she knew how he'd found her address, but she asked anyway. Jax's answer was sufficiently vague to let her know she was right.

Before their conversation progressed further than Jax stating he'd come to make a deal, Agent Tyler threw open the door and loudly challenged Jax's presence at their home. The fact that the two women were involved was evidenced by the provocative black night short set the agent wore.

Jax turned his back to make sure Tyler's outburst hadn't been noticed by any civilian out walking their dog. A small grin of amusement crossed his face. 'Doesn't say much for Hale's legacy as a stud if Stahl's battin' for the other team now!'

Stahl quickly convinced her lover she could handle Jax. Tyler reluctantly left them alone to talk. Stahl moved further out onto the front sidewalk, ignoring Jax's sly comment about her work coming home with her as she belted her robe securely closed.

Jax then got down to business, outlining how Stahl's career had taken a severe nosedive. He concluded that she was facing imminent transfer to what amounted to a fleabag Federal position somewhere in Podunk Centre.

'If rubbing my face in my failures is all he's here to do, I've got better things to do with my time!' Stahl glared at the blond biker, turning to go back into her house.

Jax wiggled the bait. He would make it possible for her to get her career back on track by getting a drop on the RIRA's North California terrorist threat. He would turn rat.

Stahl's heart raced at the possibility. 'That would certainly get me back in the agency's good graces, and get Sullins off my back!' She was suspicious of the offer, there had to be a price, and she wasn't sure she was willing to pay it.

Jax outlined what he wanted in exchange for his sworn statement, which would also bring down Jimmy O'Phelan. He asked for a delay of two weeks on the bond revocation hearing due the following day, short prison time for the club on the federal weapons charges, and a Stahl's signed statement clearing Gemma of the two deaths in Galt.

'Delaying the bond is doable, and the reduced prison time I can live with. The Galt thing? That's going to be harder to undo! If I agree to this deal. It sounds good, but so far, it's all talk with my neck stretched on the chopping block!'

Knowing that Jax's life was on the line wasn't good enough for her. She wanted something more concrete if she was going to make it possible for him to go to Belfast to retrieve his child.

'That's why I came prepared!' Jax snorted in derision and motioned for Stahl to follow him to the van. She kept her revolver ready and stood a little behind and to one side, prepared to react in case of an ambush.

Instead of several guns pointed at her, Stahl was surprised to find the bound body of Jimmy's lieutenant lying on the floor of the van surrounded by a large number of AKs. There were more than enough automatic weapons present to merit homeland security issues.

'But how do I make this look like a legit bust?' she mused, glancing about the neighborhood. She was grateful for the late hour. There was no traffic on the streets, no one to witness her dealing with Jax Teller. 'The only wild card is Tyler. If she causes trouble, she'll become the fall guy for the Galt killings.'

She agreed to Jax's offer, feeling like she'd just made a deal with the devil. He closed the van doors and leaned against them, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So what do we do now, June?" he drawled. "I've brought us this far. Now the ball's in your court."

"Take Lucas to that bar of his, I'll call for a warrant. I'll say an anonymous tip came in that he's storing guns for the RIRA there. Once the search warrant is issued, we raid the bar, and take Lucas into custody."

Jax mulled over Stahl's plan. It could work, but the problem was Lucas. He'd regained consciousness and was not likely to be cooperative.

"I don't suppose you know how long he was out?"

Jax shook his head. "I could knock his hard head again, then douse some booze on him, make it look like he passed out drunk."

"That might work," Stahl replied. "By the time he wakes up again, he'll be in cuffs and none of the team will pay any attention to him if he says anything."

Jax nodded and walked to the driver's side of the van. He, too, felt like he'd just made a deal with the devil, but he had no other choice. As Stahl returned to her front stoop, he started the van and backed from the drive.

"Ope," he spoke into the cell phone's mouthpiece. "Meet me at Jimmy O's hangout. I gotta move Lucas one more time. The deal's set."

Cat had fallen asleep as soon as the pickup had pulled out of the nursing home parking lot after their visit to Nate Madoc. Her head leaned against the passenger door window, her chest rose and feel as she breathed evenly.

Alex grinned wolfishly, giving in to the temptation to cop an uninhibited feel. He had a feeling that his wife still harbored a bit of a grudge for his earlier comment about her looks. He frowned in frustration at the impediment to his pleasure caused by the bucket seat.

'Hate these damn things! Doesn't make it easy for a guy to cop an easy feel when he wants to!' he mumbled.

They'd driven straight to the nursing home from the Madoc home to drop off the foodstuffs for Nate. Alex mentioned he'd been a recent visitor to the Madoc home with the minister's daughter, which led the administrator to suggest the couple personally deliver the package.

"But I heard ya had to sedate him overnight!" Alex protested.

"True. That was more for the good of the other residents so he wouldn't upset them. Visitors are an important part of their therapy, Mr. Trager. Even those he might not remember."

"I know that dementia and Alzheimer's patients tend to benefit from short visits like this," Cat interjected before Alex could protest further. "I have a parent who has Alzheimer's," she explained to the administrator, glancing pleadingly at her man. "Remember how she'd perk up when we'd spend a little time with her, love?"

Alex's hand massaged the bridge of his nose. 'Dammit! I can't deny her when she's reasonable like that!' He nodded grudgingly and followed Cat into the garden, where Nate was sitting on a stone bench.

'If we're gonna do this, might as well do it right,' Alex sighed inwardly, walking up to Nate and squatting in front of him. "Hey, Rev. It's Tig."

The old man squinted at Alex, trying to remember where he'd seen the dark - haired man before. 'He must know me to speak in such a familiar manner!'

"I brought Gemma to the house to visit," he explained patiently. "Gemma had to leave yesterday on a family emergency. She asked us to check on you."

"Gemma?" the old man's face lit up. "I remember! You brought her to visit. Is she here with you?" Nate squinted again, this time past Alex's shoulder. "That doesn't look like Gemma."

"Gem's back in Charming," Alex replied, reaching behind him to draw Cat forward. "This is my girl, Cat. She's still recoverin' from an accident," he added to explain the bandages.

Cat held out her good hand to Gemma's father. "It's a pleasure to meet y'all, Rev. Madoc. My father's a retired minister, served over 30 years in Indiana. He still lives there."

Nate shook hands with the small woman standing next to Tig. "He did, eh? What denomination?"

"United Methodist," Cat replied. "We brought a care package for you," she indicated the box Alex held under one arm.

Nate's eyes lit up with delight. "Come with me, I should put these away right away."

The couple followed him to the room he now called home. Cat's heart felt like it would break at the sight of the display case of mementos, very similar to the one outside her step - mother's room in the nursing home in Indiana.

"You a'right, baby?" Alex whispered.

"Yeah," her tone of voice sounded normal, but the pain in her eye spoke volumes to him.

"Ya don't hafta do this, baby. I can handle it if ya wanna wait out front," he offered

"I'll be OK, love," she murmured.

His hand massaged the bridge of his nose again. 'Dammit! I don't want her around if Nate blurts about that encounter with Amelia! Just because she knows about road sex doesn't mean she's gotta have it rubbed in her face!'

Mistaking his reaction for concern for her, Cat rubbed her cheek affectionately against his arm. "Thanks for lookin' out for me, love," she whispered softly.

"Doesn't seem like I'm doin' a very good job of it!" he grumbled.

"That's what you think!" she grinned. "Y'all don't hear me complainin', so lighten up on yourself!"

Nate's former caregiver was the furthest thing from his mind. His attention was centered on storing the foodstuffs in his refrigerator and a cabinet drawer as quickly as possible. He didn't want to waste any time with chores when he had someone to talk to.

"Would you two like to sit down?" Nate inquired when he finished his work, gesturing at the love seat and recliner.

"No thank you, Rev. Madoc," Cat replied hastily. "We'll be sittin' for some time to get to Charmin'."

"It is a long ride," Nate acknowledged. He sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh. He looked up at the couple, his expression full of sadness. "I miss my home," he announced. "I miss Rose."

'That's the Alzheimer's at work. One minute they're right as rain, next minute, off in another time and place. No wonder Gemma wanted to go where everythin' made sense!' Cat limped to the window to stare out at the small garden.

"I know y'all do, Rev. Madoc," she replied softly. "But your wife can't be with you, though she's always watchin' over y'all." She turned back to him and smiled brightly. "Y'all seemed to be enjoyin' the garden when we found you. It's a wonderful place to commune with God without havin' to worry about prunin' and weedin'!"

Nate stood up and moved to the window. He gazed out at the small flower garden, which was much smaller than the riotous spread he'd tended for years. "I suppose you're right. My garden was getting to be too much for me to keep up with. Will Gemma come back to see me?" he asked, suddenly changing the topic.

Tig stiffened with apprehension at the question. He'd started to relax as it became apparent that Nate wasn't going to raise the spectre of Amelia to haunt him. 'Shit! Avoid one land mine and he lobs a hand grenade when I least expect it! How are we gonna handle this one?' Before he could form a reply, Cat covered the awkward moment with her usual fast thinking.

"She might not be able to come up here for awhile, sir. But she has your room telephone number, and there's always letters. Don't y'all like gettin' long, newsy letters?"

He nodded, still gazing wistfully at the garden. "I get a letter from Gemma every week. Always full of news of her family. Did you know I have a great grandson?"

'Dammit! The man keeps hittin' all the tender spots!' Tig winced. 'I don't know how much more my girl can take!'

"Yes you do," Cat assured the older man. "Abel's a fine, healthy boy and growin' like a weed."

Nate smiled at her agricultural reference. "He had a rough time from birth, you know. He inherited the same heart trouble that claimed Rose. It passed Jackson, but took my other grandson, Thomas." He moved back to the bed and sat down, shaking his head in dismay.

"What's wrong, Rev. Madoc?" Cat inquired gently.

Nate sighed. "I wasn't very nice to Jackson and Clay when they were at the house." He shook his head in frustration. "It's those leather vests they insist on wearing! What's with that skeleton and the bloody sickle and gun it holds?"

"It's just for show, Rev. Madoc," she explained, her eye twinkling with mischief as she gazed at Alex. "Your grandson and son - in - law are in a club with Tig. They think the emblem on the back of their vests makes them look macho."

Alex snorted derisively at her explanation, his eyes gleaming with mock indignation. He frowned menacingly at her. "You're gonna pay for that remark, woman!" he mouthed at her.

Cat winked saucily at him, using the middle finger of one hand to push her glasses back up her nose. "Promises, promises!" she mouthed back.

"Not a promise, it's a warnin'!" he whispered soundlessly, his eyes devouring her hungrily.

Nate was completely oblivious to them. His mind had wandered to another place and time. "Where's Rose? She's been gone for days! Does she know where I am?"

"I'm sure she does, Rev. Madoc," Cat replied soothingly. "She'll find you when the time is right."

Nate bent over as if he were in pain, laying his head in his hands while his elbows rested against his knees. "I miss her. Nothing's the same these days! All these things feel familiar, yet they're not! I feel so lost and alone! I wanna go home!"

Tig sighed in frustration. 'I've gotta get her outta here! He's hittin' on all of Cat's sympathies and it's wearin' on her!'

Tears welled in both of her eyes at Nate's comment. His behavior reminded her of her step - mother's. She was tired and feeling pain, but wasn't willing to leave Nate in distress. She took a deep breath and limped to sit beside Nate, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"This is your home now, Rev. Madoc. It will become more familiar to y'all in time. Rose can't care for y'all anymore, and Gemma has things she has to handle in Charmin'. There are people here who want to care for y'all, if you'll let 'em."

Nate looked up at her, then at Alex before looking down at his hands. "I know," he replied softly.

She glanced at Alex, who tossed his head at the door. It was a clear signal to her that they needed to make their exit while Nate was experiencing another clear moment.

"I'm sorry we have to cut this visit short. Tig and I have a long trip ahead of us," she added. "I'll give Gemma your love."

"It was good of you to visit me, though I don't know either of you. Thank you."

Alex stepped to the bed, curling his hand under Cat's elbow to help her stand up. "So long, Rev.," he rumbled as he guided her out of the room. He sighed with relief to escape the minister's presence.

'Damn glad he didn't spill the beans about the caregiver.' He glanced at Cat's pale features and too bright eye. 'I dunno how she managed to get through that without losin' it. Too close to home for my taste.'

Cat was grateful for Alex's quiet support as they walked silently from the nursing home and out to the pickup truck. She sighed tiredly as he helped her climb into the cab.

"Tired, baby?" he inquired worriedly, drawing the seatbelt over her chest and securing it in the latch. 'Maybe I should cancel the stop in Rogue River.'

"Just feelin' a little sad for Gemma and her dad, love," she replied, reaching out her good hand to lay against his cheek.

"Ya did a good job handlin' that land mine about Gemma," he murmured gruffly. He wasn't used to giving praise, but she deserved to know he was proud of her. "Ya prolly didn't have to go to the effort, baby. He wouldn't have remembered the truth within five minutes."

She shrugged slightly, though his praise warmed her heart. "You might be right, love, but why make him more miserable than he already is?"

"Guess you're right baby," he replied, feeling slightly chastised by her quiet remark. He shut the door and walked around the front of the truck to the driver's side. By the time he'd settled behind the wheel, she was sound asleep.

He managed to keep from molesting her until the truck rolled past the town limits. Then he took advantage of her slumber to enjoy feeling her up. Eventually, her lack of response to his wandering hand concerned him. It became obvious to him that she'd done too much again, though he'd tried to prevent that from happening.

"Dammit, baby! Ya pushed yourself too hard again. What the fuck am I gonna do with ya?" he murmured as they neared Rogue River and she showed no sign of waking on her own.

"I'm surprised y'all have to ask," she sighed sleepily.

'Was she 'playin' possum' all this time?' He glanced out the side of his eye at her. She looked less pale as if she'd been asleep instead of pretending. "Didn't mean to wake ya, baby."

"Sorry I dozed off on ya. Did I miss anything?" she added with a stifled yawn.

'Just a little United Nations,' he shrugged and turned his attention back to the road. "Not really."

"Uh, huh," she stared down at the hand resting on her thigh. His long fingers were spread out on her leg. He tensed, anticipating that she'd shove his hand away, but she surprised him by covering his hand with her own, entangling her fingers in his.

"Where are we?"

"Rogue River. Got a surprise for ya, now that you're not mad at me anymore."

"What makes y'all think I'm not still miffed at y'all?" She replied huffily, easing herself into a sitting position and remaining as close to him as the bucket seat allowed.

"That's why," he grinned and tightened his grip on her hand. "Don't ya wanna know about the surprise?"

"I'm all attention," she drawled.

"Thought we'd stop in at SAMRRO and visit your buddies for a few minutes," he replied.

She cast a sideways glance at him. "Are y'all sure we have the time to spare?"

He disengaged his hand from hers to reach behind her head, grasping the nape of her neck. His fingers were feather light and warm on her cool skin. "I'm sure, baby. Figured the guys would like to see ya while we're in the area."

"How far are we from their clubhouse?" she inquired excitedly.

"Look out the windshield," he turned the pickup onto a gravel road. The SAMRRO club house sat a few yards beyond the truck's hood. A line of Harleys was parked out front. 'I'm not sure I like the idea of her bein' excited to see other men!'

"I hope y'all called ahead," Cat murmured. "They might not appreciate someone 'just droppin' by'. Even if y'all are Sergeant at Arms of the mother charter!"

"I'm way ahead of ya, baby!" Alex grinned. " Gave StoneCoyote a call while we were loadin' the truck. They're expectin' us." He stopped the pickup in front of the clubhouse and shut off the engine.

The clubhouse door burst open as StoneCoyote, the SAMRRO president rushed out. Sleeved Biker, Slick, and Tommy Gunn followed close behind him.

"Hey, Tig!" StoneCoyote greeted the SAMCRO SAA with the standard 'bro hug double back tap'. "Good to see ya." He looked past Tig's shoulder to the pickup cab. "Where's your girl?"

"Sittin' right there inside the cab," Tig grinned, greeting the other SAMRRO riders who'd guarded his wife during the showdown with LOAN.

StoneCoyote rushed around to the passenger side to open the door. "Hi ya, Puddy Cat! Welcome to SAMRRO!"

"Nice to see y'all, StoneCoyote," she grinned, sliding her legs to the side of the cab. "Could y'all lend a lady a hand gettin' outta here?"

Tig stalked to the passenger side of the cab and shouldered the charter president out of the way. "That's my job, brother!" he growled possessively.

Cat rolled her eye at Alex's caveman behavior, demurely accepting his aide in getting out of the cab. Once safely on the ground and assured her legs would hold her up, she snagged the SAMRRO president in a one - armed hug. "It's good to see all y'all, brother. Thanks for helpin' Tig with Gemma. Any word from that guy she nearly did a Bobbit to?"

SleevedBiker approached and gave her a quick hug, mindful of Tig's watchful glower. "Nah. We kinda 'persuaded' him to take the money and keep runnin'."

Cat laughed heartily. "I'm sure y'all made him see how sensible it would be to make himself scarce."

Slick pretended to look incensed while accepting his hug. "Why, Lady Cat! We would never think of intimidatin' anyone!"

"No, y'all would just do it!" she retorted, giving Tommy Gunn an awkward one - armed hug.

StoneCoyote shared a pained look with Tig. "She knows us too well, brother!"

"She's my woman, that's why!" Tig replied smugly.

Before she had time to utter a snappy comeback, StoneCoyote gestured towards the clubhouse. "C'mon inside," he invited grandly. "It's a little less bright inside, easier on Puddy Cat's eye."

"We can't stay long," Cat announced worriedly, thinking of the long drive and the vote coming up the following day.

"They know, baby," Alex assured her, clasping her elbow and leading her to the clubhouse door. "Relax. They've been worried about ya. Let 'em see you're doin' a'right."

The SAMRRO clubhouse was nearly a mirror image of the one in Charming. There was the same leather furniture, pool table, bar, and jukebox. There was a kitchen, the chapel, and she figured there were probably 'guest rooms' on the upper level.

"Want some coffee, Lady Cat?" Tommy Gunn offered. "It's yer whiskey blend."

"Sure," she replied, easing herself onto the leather couch. Alex settled beside her, laying a casual but possessive arm behind her head.

"Beer, Tig?"

"I'm drivin', brother," he replied. "Cat would scalp me if I drove after drinkin' a beer. Coffee. Black."

"You're learnin', love!" she whispered.

"Just respectin' your opinion about buzzed drivin'," he replied softly. "Don't wanna give ya an excuse to get behind the wheel."

"Damn! A gal can't get an even break!"

Tommy brought the coffee cups out and set them on the table in front of the couple. The other SAMRRO riders collected their own libations and settled in chairs they placed around the couch.

"It's good to see ya up and about, Puddy Cat," StoneCoyote stated. "Wasn't real pleased that ya checked outta the hospital early, though I understand why ya did it."

"I hope y'all didn't give Slick a hard time about it," Cat replied. "He really didn't have much of a choice."

"Yeah, my girl can be pretty intense when she wants to be," Tig added.

"No shit!" Slick laughed. "Reminds me of Clay's old lady!"

"I resemble that remark!" Cat grinned.

"Speakin' of Gemma, is it true the Feds have her in custody?" Tommy Gunn inquired worriedly.

"'Fraid so, guys," Tig replied. "She kinda lost it after puttin' her father in the nursin' home. Wanted her family instead of goin' North where she'd be safe."

"Why is she in the hospital, then?" StoneCoyote asked.

Cat's eyebrow lifted in surprise. 'Apparently news travels fast amongst the charters!'

"She had an attack of arrythmia," Tig explained quietly. "Set off by a telephone call she got tellin' us where Abel might be." He squirmed uncomfortably. Though he'd mentioned to the SAMRRO president not to say a word about Belfast, there was always the chance it would slip out.

"Tig, y'all know I'm OK with the fact that all y'all are goin' North to retrieve Abel," she assured him, taking a sip of the fresh brewed coffee.

The SAMRRO men gazed guiltily at each other. Their president had warned them not to mention the club gossip about Abel being in Belfast, but they felt uncomfortable that their friend remained misinformed. 'It's Tig's duty to tell her, not ours,' they determined individually.

"The Feds were practically waitin' for her at the ER," Cat added wryly, missing the guilty looks the men exchanged from her own weariness. "Walked in like they owned the place, but her doctor set 'em straight about her care."

"That means she's in the jail wing," Tommy Gunn observed.

"Yeah, but she gets to have people visit pretty regularly. That's gonna help her recover," Cat replied, stifling a yawn.

"Are ya sure you're OK, Puddy Cat?" StoneCoyote asked. "Ya look all in."

"Kinda overdid it at Gemma's dad's house," she assured the president. "The work needed to be done, or we'd still be there."

"Ya could've called us!" Slick replied.

Tig shook his head. "Not possible. Civilians were involved. They don't know about the club and we wanted to keep it that way."

The SAMRRO men nodded in understanding. "As long as ya know we'd have helped if ya asked!" Tommy Gunn added.

"And it's appreciated, guys," Cat assured them. "Any suggestions of a good place to get take out around here? Figured we'd grab somethin' in town and eat on the road. Gotta get back tonight or we'd stay longer."

SleevedBiker mentioned the names of a couple of local diners that were friends to the club. "They'll treat ya right, Lady Cat. Good food, decent prices. Locally owned, just the way ya like it."

"Sounds like a winner," Tig observed, standing and embracing his Oregon brothers while Cat engaged each of her pick up basketball team members in another one - armed hug.

"Thanks for bringin' your lady to visit, Tig," StoneCoyote stated as he walked the couple out to the truck.

"Appreciate the hospitality, StoneCoyote," Cat stated. "Next time all y'all are in Charmin', y'all had better stop in the coffeehouse!"

"And risk gettin' on yer shit list if we don't?" the SAMRRO president grinned. "No way!"

Tig helped her into the pickup cab as StoneCoyote stood to one side. Cat grabbed the seat belt and slid it into place while StoneCoyote shut the door and Tig walked to the driver's side.

"You two have a safe drive," the SAMRRO president announced.

"We will. I'm drivin'!" Tig grinned, starting the engine and pulling away from the clubhouse. Once back on the highway, Alex glanced at her and inquired, "You really wanna eat on the road? We can stop and eat like normal people."

"Ain't nothin' normal about us, love! The sooner we're home, the sooner you can rest, too!" Cat grinned wickedly.

"I can relax while we eat at a restaurant, baby," Alex insisted. "If you're not gonna make a choice, I will!"

"Well, I did read that passage about 'whither thou goest, so goest I', so you choose, love," she replied.

"What in the Hell were thinking, June? Talking outside with that thug, much less following him to his van? You could've been killed!" Tyler hissed the moment Stahl walked through the front door, nearly scaring ten years' life out of the agent.

"I thought I told you to go back to bed, Amy!" Stahl retorted, her eyes wide with alarm. 'Just how much does she know?'

Tyler's eyes narrowed in anger. "I know you did, but I wasn't going to leave you unprotected!" She drew her own service revolver from behind her back. "I was watching you the entire time from the upstairs windows. It really scared me when you walked to the back of the van like that. I almost ran outside to protect you!"

'That means she knows too much. Too bad, she's a good lay.' Stahl's stomach turned to ice, though she kept her thoughts from showing on her face. "Thanks for the back up, baby. Go get dressed, we're going on an Irish raid."

Tyler stared at her in puzzlement. "What about Jax Teller?"

"Never mind him. Go dress. I've gotta make a phone call."

Tyler gazed at her lover for another moment, then nodded and turned away to the stairs. Stahl moved to the landline phone and called the district office. To her relief, Jack Bryant was the supervisor on duty instead of Sullins.

"This is Stahl. I need a warrant. Just got a tip about a location where the RIRA is holding a cache of guns." She provided the address along with the name of the person they'd likely arrest to the supervisor. "He's the lieutenant for Jimmy O'Phelan. He could eventually lead us to Jimmy O."

"How'd you get this intel?" Bryant inquired.

"Leads, tips, intel, call it what you want."

"You trapped a rat."

"A big one," Stahl agreed.

Bryant advised her the warrant would be ready by the time she showed up at the office. "I'll call up your former unit to help you with the raid. You'll be in charge."

"Sullins will have a fit when he hears about this!" Stahl grinned.

"It's your tip, your right to lead the raid. Worse that can happen is that you fall on your face," Bryant replied.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence!" Stahl retorted, returning the handset to the cradle. She rushed up the stairs and on into the bedroom, shedding her robe and gown as she stepped through the door.

"Get the warrant?" Tyler inquired casually, stuffing her feet into a pair of boots. She'd changed into black denims and a dark colored top.

"Yeah," Stahl replied, drawing on her own dark attire for the raid. She strapped a holster to her ankle and shrugged into her shoulder holster. She sat down on the bed to put on her boots.

"Teller provided the intel for this raid," Tyler added, gazing intently at her lover.

Stahl couldn't help noticing that Tyler didn't mention that she'd seen Luke Moran's body tied up in the van. 'She might not've been able to see the inside of the van, or she could be hiding what she knows. Either way, she's become a liability.' Stahl looked up at her lover and replied, "He came here to broker a deal. It gets the Sons off the street for awhile and puts a dent in the RIRA's activity in Northern Cal."

"And it's bound to make Sullins lift that demotion," Tyler observed.

"That would be a nice dividend, but it's not the main objective," Stahl lied smoothly, pasting a loving smile on her face. "Though it would also mean we can stay together."

'I'm not sure if that's such a good thing now,' Tyler mused to herself. 'June's been edgy and difficult to live with since Sullins demoted her. Jax Teller shows up with a deal and she's suddenly happy as a lark. I've got a bad feeling about this.'

Sensing Tyler's reticence, Stahl rose from the bed to embrace her lover. "I've been a first class bitch the last few days. I need your help, baby. I can't do this without you."

Tyler softened in her lover's arms. "When you put it like that, I can't refuse," she replied softly.

They drove to Stockton to pick up the warrant and meet with Stahl's unit. The group had worked together for a long time before Stahl's demotion, and enthusiastically welcomed her back as their leader.

Stahl outlined how they would conduct the raid, assigning members of the unit to the various entrances. Their signal would be Stahl's keying the mic on the hand held radios. They would storm both entrances at the same time, guns drawn, bright lights blaring, yelling orders to any and all occupants of the bar. Once everyone was cuffed, they would search for the weapons.

"Any questions?" Stahl asked, gazing around the ready room at her fellow agents.

They all shook their heads. They were ready and willing to go, following her from the building to their cars.

Agent Estevez climbed into the back seat of Stahl's sedan. "Good to be working with you again, Stahl," he murmured. "Next time, you'll have the government issued vehicle to drive!"

"From your mouth to Sullins' ears!" Stahl replied with grin, buckling her seat belt and starting the ignition.

Stahl led the small caravan of Ford Crown Vics back to Charming and to the bar Lucas owned. The parking lot was deserted, but the interior and exterior lights still shone in the night.

"You think anyone's still there?" Tyler inquired worriedly.

"According to the intel, there will be," Stahl assured her. "Just because it's past serving time doesn't mean Lucas won't be in there taking care of business."

She turned off the headlights as she turned into the parking lot. The other cars in the caravan followed suit. The agents quietly exited their vehicles, leaving the car doors wide open. They crept quickly and quietly to their assigned positions.

Stahl waited at the front door, her eyes searching the parking lot for any surprises. She noticed a dark GMC van similar to the one Jax had been driving earlier roll slowly down the street. 'He likely was keeping a lookout until we got here to make sure Lucas didn't try to escape.'

Estevez' hand gripped the doorknob with one hand, holding his service revolver at the ready with the other. Tyler held her revolver in both hands, pointed towards the ground. Both agents had thin but powerful krypton flashlights under their guns.

Stahl nodded at them and keyed the mic on her radio. Estevez pushed open the door and Tyler rushed inside, yelling authoritatively for everyone to hit the floor. Her gun was raised and the flashlight swung in an arc as she moved into position.

The men at the back door moved at the exact same moment, rushing in to secure the premises. They yelled orders while keeping their guns and lights trained on anything that might move.

The only occupants of the bar were Lucas and two of his henchmen. The agents' shouts went unheard by the men, they were passed out cold around the interior of the bar. Several tables had been broken, chairs and bottles smashed. The stench of spilled liquor permeated the air.

Lucas was crouched in a booth, his head laying on the table in a puddle of alcohol. An opened bottle of Irish whiskey lay on its side on the table.

Stahl stifled a grin as her agents handcuffed the three apparently inebriated men. 'The prince was a busy little boy. Nice of him to make it look like Lucas and his cohorts got the worse end of a bar brawl! Good cover for Lucas to be passed out!'

Stahl looked around the bar for the cache of AKs Jax had shown her. She found the two bags tossed in the booth behind Lucas'. "Found 'em!" She crowed to her unit.

Estevez, Tyler, and the others gathered around her as she pulled the bags from the booth. Estevez used the flashlight to display the AKs lying inside the canvas duffels. "Wow! There's enough automatic weapons here to start a small war! Was the guy planning some kind of takeover?"

"Who knows what the Real IRA is up to these days," Stahl replied. She keyed the radio mic and announced, "This is Stahl. Status report. Operation complete, three in custody. No casualties. I need prison transport, and alert DHS to meet us back at HQ."

"Roger that," Bryant replied. "Good work, Stahl."

While they waited for the transport, the agents inventoried the cache of guns for evidence purposes. Lucas and his men began to regain consciousness. Lucas glared knowingly at Stahl, but remained silent. He knew he'd gain nothing by talking to the other agents in front of Stahl.

'Ah'll byde me tyme, wayte fer a better opportunity. Un shuld coom along sumtime.'

"Ya gotta admit this is a lot better than tryin' to eat in the van!" Alex boasted, waving one arm at their surroundings.

The waitress had just taken their food order, after bringing their drinks to them. She'd left their table to deliver the order to the kitchen.

Cat glowered after the young waitress, watching Alex watch the girls' butt sway from side to side as she walked away from them. "I don't know about that, love. The scenery in here leaves a lot to be desired!"

'So her eyes can get greener, after all!' Alex grinned wolfishly. "I wouldn't let the guys from SAMRRO hear ya say that. They did recommend this place!"

"Remind me to have a few words with them about that!" she growled. "Maybe they like the ambiance, but I don't!"

"Bet if there was a good lookin' waiter, you'd think different!" Alex gloated.

"Guess that's for me to know and you not to find out, hotshot!" she retorted. Her expression sobered as she added, "Seems like we haven't had a lot of time for fun and laughs, lately."

"True, dat. Somethin's on your mind. Spill," Alex lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, blowing smoke through his nostrils as he leaned against the back of the padded booth.

Cat sighed and shifted to make herself more comfortable. "I know about the bond revocation hearin' tomorrow, love. Got a call from Ally Lowen while you were gone. She's takin' over the club's legal business from Rosen."

It didn't surprise him that she already knew about the hearing. 'Cat always seems to learn about this shit and deals rationally with it,' he mused. 'Saves me a lot of hassle.' He inhaled another draught of the cigarette. "I heard that Hale is behind it."

"I wouldn't be surprised, love," Cat replied dryly. "He seems to be buildin' his mayoral platform on an anti - SAMCRO foundation. He thinks he can use his brother's death for the sympathy vote."

"You sound worried, baby."

"I am. It doesn't make sense that Hale would ask the council to have all y'all's bond revoked. We have the proof that someone on Weston's side did the shootin'!"

"Thanks to you," he grinned.

She shrugged, her blood heating and making her skin flush from his praise. "The DA never pressed charges cause none of the families were willin' to testify. There shouldn't be a bond to be revoked!"

'Dammit, Lowen left out some details!' Alex sighed and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. "Federal charges, baby. We were carryin' AKs at the Christian Center."

"Damn! That's like takin' rocket launchers to a turtle hunt!" Cat observed angrily.

Alex grinned in embarrassment. "Yeah, guess we did go into overkill."

"Ya think?" she drawled. "How the Hell did the Feds know?"

Alex shrugged. "The minute we stepped foot in the SJCFF. Stahl was there, questioned Clay and Jax separately before we were released. If the bond gets revoked on those charges, we go to Stockton."

Cat was both relieved and upset by the news. Relieved that Alex wouldn't be returning to the quagmire of the county facility, and upset that he'd be doing time at all. "At least all y'all have friends in Stockton," she muttered dryly.

'That's my girl! Most women would be fussin' and makin' a scene, she sees the tarnished silver linin'!' Alex grinned wryly. "Heads up, baby," he murmured, tossing his head towards the waitress sashaying up to them with their orders.

The waitress slid the plates onto the table. "Ya want anything else?" she asked around the unappetizing snap and crackle of her wad of chewing gum.

Alex winced and shook his head. "Naw, doll. We're fine."

"Thanks, though," Cat added with a small smile to the girl.

The waitress shrugged her shoulders and shimmied across the floor to another table. Cat noticed with triumph that Alex wasn't as interested in the girl's departure as he had been the first time. 'There's somethin' to be said for chewin' gum like a cow chews a cud! Thank God!'

"Quit lookin' so superior, woman!" Alex growled, reaching for the ketchup bottle.

"Kinda hard not to, given the competition!" she quipped, hiding a smile of triumph behind her coffee cup.

"Yeah, right," Alex drawled, drowning his fries in ketchup, then adding a dollop to his sandwich.

"So tomorrow might see all y'all off to Stockton," Cat mused aloud in a not so subtle change of subject. "Got some good news for y'all on that."

Alex glanced inquiringly at her. "What the fuck could be good about Stockton?"

She grinned impishly at him. "Though I suspect it had a little help from Stahl, Stockton Prison approved my vendor application. Charmin' Pawse will now be sellin' pastries to the inmates."

"Why do ya think Stahl had anythin' to do with it?"

"These kinds of things take a lot of time to be processed, love. Yet my application went through quicker than shit through a goose. Stands to reason she helped push it through."

He thought over her explanation for a few moments. "Ya might be right, baby. If she did, she's gonna want somethin' in return."

"Doesn't mean she'll get it," Cat retorted.

"And if she threatens to pull the plug if ya don't co - operate?"

Cat shrugged, wincing slightly as the move reminded her of the restrictive binder's presence. "Then she pulls the plug. I've been doin' fine without the Stockton venture."

Alex grinned approvingly at her, then pouted, "So I might have to go through Snicker Bar Muffin withdrawal after all!"

Cat fought the urge to kick his shins under the table though she knew he was pleased with her answer. "I know it means more money for the club, but it's not worth it if Stahl uses it as a means to try to get intel from me."

"True dat," Alex reluctantly agreed. "So how's this thing gonna work, provided Stahl doesn't pull it out from under ya?"

He continued eating while she explained the wrapping process for the prison sales. "Even if I wanted to slip contraband into y'all, there'd be no way to do it through the pastries. They all have to be packaged the same way; can't mark any for a particular recipient."

"It would draw undue attention anyway," Alex agreed, pointing at her plate. "Eat. It's my turn to share some news with ya."

"Been wonderin' when you'd get around to talkin' about what had you so tense when we left," she replied, digging into her own plate of food.

"Kozik," He spat the word as if he'd taken a bite of something foul and couldn't get the taste out of his mouth fast enough. "He's comin' down tomorrow."

"What the Hell for?"

"He wants to transfer back to SAMCRO," Alex explained quietly. "Clay wants me to let it happen. Says we need the manpower."

Cat's small pouch protested the idea. She put her utensils down and pushed the plate aside. "You're not enthusiastic about the idea. Can't blame y'all, love."

'I can tell it's not sittin' well with ya, either,' Alex nodded. "I don't trust him. People say Missy was 'just a dog' and I should get over it. I can't do that."

"She wasn't 'just a dog'! She was your girl, love. It's like losin' a member of your family when you lose a beloved furry one."

He reached across the table to caress her cheek with his knuckles. "Yeah, but not everyone understands that. Hell, I figured you'd get pissed at me the first time ya caught me moonin' over Missy."

She gazed at him over the rim of her eyeglasses. "I'd be the last person to get upset about somethin' like that, Alex." she replied softly.

Alex withdrew the well – worn picture from his wallet and gazed at it. "Y'know, I don't feel quite as lost without her as I used to. But it still hurts. Is it always gonna be that way?"

Cat looked down at the picture he held in his hand. She'd seen it often enough in the office at home, where she'd placed a copy with her own belated pets. She could sense the loss in his eyes, though the pain wasn't as sharp as it had been that first day.

"I don't know the answer to that, love. I still feel the pain of losin' my first pet, and that was decades ago. Sometimes it hits me outta the blue and it hurts as much as it did the day Koki died. I can go months without thinkin' about it, then it smacks me upside the head again."

She shook her head to clear it and continued, "Y'all are only one man down at the moment. Do y'all really need Kozik that bad to fill the ranks?"

"I don't think so. Happy's transferrin' back in. We're also gonna vote on some prospects."

"The hangarounds, I'd wager."

"You're right. I'm not too sure about the one that wears the striped shirts. He seems a little green."

"I know who you're referrin' to. His name's Sebastian," Cat supplied. "He's been in the coffee shop a few times."

"What's your take on him?"

"Well, I wouldn't want him workin' for me," Cat admitted. "He's got a mouth on him, and he acts like he's all bad ass for ridin' a Harley. Not that he takes very good care of it."

It was Alex's turn to hide a grin behind his coffee cup. Her scathing assessment of Sebastian's treatment of his bike said more to him than anything else. He shared her sentiments about the hang around.

'Filthy Phil and Miles have potential. Sebastian's the wild card. I'd almost rather choose Kozik over Sebastian, and that's not good!'

"Y'all don't need Kozik, then, what with Happy and two or three prospects to fill the charter," Cat observed quietly. "Not that it's any of my business."

"Ya make a lot of sense, baby," Alex replied. "I don't trust Kozik. Shouldn't have trusted him when he patched in the first time."

"When was that?"

"After the pregnant girlfriend died. I voted him in cause he acted like he'd changed his attitude about me. When the thing with Missy happened, I knew nothin' had changed."

"I know Clay's on ya about votin' in favor of Kozik, love, but ya gotta do what's good for you as well as the club. I just don't see any good comin' outta him patchin' in."

Alex lit a new cigarette, gazing at the glowing red tip. 'She always manages to cut through the BS for me. Nothin' good is gonna come outta votin' him in. No matter how much Clay wants it to happen.'

The waitress noticed that Cat wasn't eating. She walked over to inquire if everything was all right with her order.

"It's fine. I'm just not very hungry. Could I get a box for the leftovers?"

The waitress nodded, snapping and popping her gum in rhythm with her chaw. She turned her attention to Alex and asked if he wanted anything else.

"More coffee for both of us, and a piece of cake for me."

"What kind of cake?"

"Anything with chocolate. No coconut." he replied, being careful to avoid looking directly at the girl's face.

"Comin' right up, handsome," the gum snapped and crackled as she gathered his empty plate.

"Take your time, doll," he growled.

The waitress hootchi - kootchied across the diner to the kitchen, the gum snapping and popping in time with her footsteps.

"She certainly has that down to a science," Cat observed dryly.

"I'd like to wrap that fuckin' gum around her neck," Alex snarled, inhaling on his cigarette. "I'm glad ya don't chew that shit."

"I can't. Used to swallow my gum instead of spittin' it out when it lost its' flavor. If I swallow it now, well, it'd really gum up the works," she winced at the feeble joke.

Alex contented himself with issuing a stern glare. "Ya really reached for that one, baby. Ya should've kept on reachin'."

"Speakin' of reachin', I've got another piece of news for y'all," Cat announced, deciding there was no better time to tell him about her intent to run for the council seat.

Her announcement was interrupted by the reappearance of the gum smacking waitress. She deposited a large hunk of chocolate cake in front of Alex and a leftovers box before Cat. "Would you like for me to box that plate for you, honey?" she asked, indicating the sling supporting Cat's injured arm.

"That would be very nice of y'all. Thanks," Cat replied, sliding her barely touched plate towards the waitress.

"Your fella there seems to have a hearty appetite, hun," the waitress' gum popped while she transferred the contents of Cat's plate into the box.

Alex grinned and shoved another forkful of cake into his mouth.

Cat smiled indulgently. "He's one of those annoyin' types that can eat like a horse and it doesn't show on him!"

The waitress laughed as she slid the full box into a bag. "Tell me about it! My dad's the same way! If I just look at a danish, I gain weight!"

"I can't help it if I'm a growin' boy!" Alex drawled, taking a sip of coffee before diving back into his cake.

"And he'll be hungry again in an hour!" Cat sighed.

"I'll be lucky to get a taste of these leftovers!"

Alex nodded enthusiastically, earning a disgusted glare from both women.

"You have my sympathies, hun," the waitress' gum snapped as she laid the check face down in front of Alex. "You folks come back anytime."

Alex stared at the check as if it was a snake about to strike. "Why'd she give that to me?" he asked.

"Because y'all are a male animal," Cat grinned. "And would've gotten insulted if she'd given the check to me."

"Wanna bet?"

"I don't bet on somethin' that obvious, love," she laughed, sipping at her coffee. "While y'all are settlin' the check, I'm gonna visit the little old lady's room."

"Ya gonna be a'right on your own?" he asked, part out of concern and part with a sly grin.

"Yeah, hot stuff, some things aren't meant for audience participation. I can go without the sling to take care of business!" she retorted.

"Can't blame a guy for tryin'!" he replied.

"Besides, love, y'all don't drink cawfee, just rent it room. I'd rather not hafta crouch behind some bush somewhere."

"Where's your pioneer spirit?" he chided.

"Some of my people weren't pioneers, but original settlers!"

"They didn't have trouble goin' in the bushes!"

"I'm civilized and spoiled, love," she grinned, sliding from the booth to stand beside the table, allowing her legs to get acclimated to holding her weight. "We've got a long drive ahead, and the fewer pit stops we hafta make, the better off we'll be."

Alex looked up at her, ready to leap to assist her if she needed him. He took in her determined expression and relaxed as she placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently before limping off in the direction of the bathrooms.

'She's got a point, but I can piss anywhere,' he thought, draining the last of his coffee before rising from his seat and ambling to the cash register. The bag full of Cat's leftovers dangled from his hand.

He returned to the table long enough to drop a few bills on it for the waitress, then walked outside to the truck. He stored the bag behind the front seats next to the radio, then decided there was something to be said for civilization.

Alex returned into the restaurant and sauntered to the restrooms. After he was done in the men's room, he asked the waitress if Cat had come out.

"No, hun. Do you want me to check?" she asked around a loud pop of her gum.

"Nah. It's a one seater like the men's, right?"

She nodded.

Alex turned and strode to the women's room door. He placed an ear to the door, frowning when he couldn't hear anything. He tapped on the door and called out, "Cat? Ya a'right, baby?"

There was no reply, which increased his concern. He rapped harder on the door. "Don't make me break the door down!" he hissed through the door.

"I heard y'all the first time!" came her muffled reply. "Sheesh! I just need a little more time!"

"Dammit woman, I've already paid the bill, put your food in the truck, and took a leak while you've been in there!"

"Y'all want a frackin' medal of achievement?" she growled.

Alex grinned at her feisty remark. 'She's a'right. She wouldn't snark at me like that if she was in trouble.'

"Your lady OK?" the gum chewing waitress asked as she passed by with a tray of drinks.

"Yeah. Thanks," he replied, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

The waitress nodded and walked on to her waiting customers.

A few moments later, the sound of the toilet flushing issued from behind the closed door. He heard her mutter as she struggled with her clothes, followed by the sound of running water.

Alex's hand went to the bridge of his nose, cupping his nostrils in case anything drifted on the wind as Cat opened the door.

"Very funny, wise guy!" she snarled, glaring at his laughing eyes. "Ya think yours don't stink?"

"I never said a thing, baby!" Alex protested laughingly.

"Body language, darlin', says quite a lot!" she snapped, using the middle finger of her good hand to shove her glasses back up her nose.

"So I notice," he smiled. "You're gettin' a little too good at usin' digital communications!" His expression sobered as he added, "Ya had me worried, baby."

She moved next to him, sliding her good hand in the crook of his arm. "Sorry, love."

"You a'right now?"

"You mean what was I doin' in there besides the obvious," she sighed. "Don't laugh. I fell asleep in there."

Alex's lips twitched, but he didn't crack a smile. He was fascinated by the mental image of her sitting on the can, pants around her ankles, with her head resting on the wall behind the commode.

Cat glared at him out of the corner of her eye. She didn't miss the way his lips twitched at her admission. She waited for him to start laughing in earnest.

"It's an interestin' image, baby. Kinda erotic," he admitted, the laughter evident in his voice, though his features remained calm.

"Humpf!" she snorted as they walked out to the truck. "You would think that!"

He helped her into the cab, enjoying the feel of her unresisting body under his hands. He snapped the seat belt in place and kissed her soundly. "I'm just a red blooded American male, baby. Ya wouldn't want me any other way!"

She muttered, "Wanna bet?" as he closed the door and walked around the front of the truck. By the time he'd opened the driver's side door and slid behind the steering wheel, she'd fallen asleep.

Stahl entered the district headquarters for the ATF in Stockton to a rousing round of applause. Word of the successful capture of Lucas Moran had spread through the office before her team arrived.

She smiled and waved at her co - workers, accepting their accolades for the bust. It was all a sham to her, but she knew it was a morale booster to her co - workers.

She made sure that Lucas was hustled into an interrogation room while Estevez processed the paperwork. A shadow crossed her path as she started towards the interview room and she looked up into Sullins face.

"Good work, Stahl," he murmured. "Understand you had a tip."

"Yeah," she replied noncommittally.

"Word came from the regional director to put you back in charge of the IRA investigation," Sullins announced. "Frankly, I think it's a too soon, but orders are orders. It's provisional, and I'm warning you that I've got my eye on you. If you fuck up again, I'll bust you so far down the chain you'll have to look up to change your socks!"

Stahl kept her expression neutral as Sullins walked past her. "Shit! Nothing like getting fucked without benefit of a kiss or Vaseline!" she muttered as she moved on to the interrogation room.

Lucas glared at her as she entered the room and took the chair across from him. His hands were in cuffs and chained to the metal table. "So Jax is turnin' rat," he spat. "Hoo long do ye thin' it'll be afore 'e toins on ye?"

"That's for me to know, and you not to find out, Lucas," Stahl replied archly.

"Ye really thin' ye can keep me looked up fer long?" he snarled.

"I know we can. Those AKs you had in the bar will insure you stay behind bars for a long, long time."

"Ah kin me rights! Ah got un phone call!" Lucas retorted.

"Times have changed, my man," Stahl purred, leaning forward in her chair. "Suspected terrorists aren't afforded the same rights as other arrestees. Your known alliance with Jimmy O'Phelan will interest Homeland Security because of his alliance with the IRA."

"So?"

Stahl smiled coldly. "That means you don't get your 'one phone call'. You don't get to tell Jimmy O that you've been arrested or warn him that Jax has turned rat. You go to jail and you don't get to collect $200 for passing 'go'."

Lucas stared at her in disbelief. "Are ye nuts, woman? Wha' aboot tha Constitution?"

Stahl leaned back in her chair, her smile cold as ice. "Get this through your thick skull, Luke. You're part of a terrorist organization. We can hold you incommunicado for as long as we want. This is post 9-11 baby. You get a cell, three squares a day, and that's it."

A knock on the door alerted Stahl to the entrance of a member of the DHS. "Enter!" she called.

The DHS members strode into the room, one unlocked the chain shackling Lucas to the table. "These men will be taking you away from the area to one of the Homeland Security holding sites. Enjoy your stay, Lucas."

The DHS men led him out of the interrogation room, ignoring his curses and plea to be heard. As far as they were concerned, he had nothing of interest for them. If he had anything to tell them, they'd get it out of him in their own time, not his.

Stahl relaxed against the back of the chair, breathing a sigh of relief. She was tired. The adrenaline rush was ebbing away as it always did after a bust gone right. She still had to work on her report, and write up a statement for Gemma to give to the US Attorney.

'Jax kept his part of the bargain. Now I've got to live up to mine. Too bad about Tyler, but someone has to take the fall for the fuck up at Galt. It's not gonna be me.'

She walked out to the bullpen, where her crew was busy typing up their reports. Tyler walked up to her with a cup of coffee in each hand.

"Fixed it the way you like it. They don't have that stuff from Cat Marshall's here," Tyler announced, passing the Styrofoam cup to Stahl.

"Thanks, baby." Stahl knew the agency usually bought Folgers or Maxwell House in bulk.

"I already wrote up your report for you. All you have to do is sign it," Tyler added, following Stahl down the aisle between desks.

"Thanks. I'll check it out and sign it in a minute. Just need a moment or two to get my bearings."

Tyler gazed intently at her. "Yeah, I guess so. Quite an eventful night."

"Yeah, it has been. Thanks for the backup. You did good in there."

Tyler nodded and returned to her desk. Stahl watched her for a moment, then picked up the folder and read through the report. There was no mention of Jax Teller as the informant in the report.

Stahl thought about logging into the agency computer to write up the statement for Gemma. Then she decided against it. 'Too many eyes here. It'll mean sneaking away from bed, but Amy's a heavy sleeper. Best to write it up at home where there's less chance of being found out.'

She signed off on the report and returned it to the file folder, laying it in a wire basket where it would be picked up and delivered to Sullins later.

"Good work on the bust, Stahl," Jack Bryant stated as he stopped and leaned one hip against her desk. "We're a step closer to neutralizing Jimmy O'Phelan."

"Thank you, sir," Stahl replied. "Sullins isn't very happy about lifting the demotion."

Bryant smiled coolly. "Sullins will have to get over himself. Someone had to be the scapegoat over Zobelle with the FBI. He chose you. I didn't agree with him. You were investigating the Irish, they connected with Zobelle. The FBI could've been a little more forthcoming with us once it was apparent we were both working on the same case."

"Yes sir."

Bryant laid a causal hand on Stahl's shoulder. "You're a good cop, Stahl. The Zobelle thing was a bad break. Put it behind you."

"I intend to, sir," Stahl replied.

Bryant nodded and walked away from Stahl. He stopped to talk with each agent involved in the raid, issuing praise for a job well done to each member of Stahl's crew.

Tyler walked up to Stahl's desk after Bryant left. "You ready to go?"

Stahl stood up and gathered her nylon ATF jacket under her arm. "Good work on the report. Didn't have to change a thing. Let's go."

Tyler watched Stahl stride down the aisle between the desks. Her lover's praise should have made her feel good, but Tyler felt a chill travel up and down her spine. If she didn't know any better, she'd have believed that somewhere in the future, someone had just danced all over her grave.

Jax parked his bike in the driveway next to Tara's Cutlass and shut down the engine. He was tired and his muscles were sore from his exertions. His truck was gone, a black PT Cruiser was parked on the other side of the driveway entrance.

'Must be Cat's new car. Nice lookin' ride. Figured Tig wouldn't take her out on the bike in her condition.'

Tara was waiting up for him in the living room. The television was on, but the volume was low. The house was too quiet, emphasizing Abel's absence. The loss hit Jax in the gut the same way it had when he first learned Abel had been taken.

"There's a plate in the oven for you if you're hungry," Tara stated softly from the couch. "I was getting a little worried, but didn't want to bother you with a call."

Jax walked over to the couch and leaned over Tara, giving her a hello kiss. "Thanks, baby. I'm starved."

Tara followed him into the kitchen, sitting at the table while he retrieved the warm, foil covered plate from the oven. He set it on the table and retrieved utensils from a drawer, then sat down to eat.

Tara waited until he'd taken a couple of bites to ask about his truck. "I was surprised to hear the bike pull into the drive. Thought you were out in the truck."

"Tig's got the pickup. Mom asked him to get the stuff from Grandpa's. Cat's with him."

"That must be her PT out front, then."

"Yeah," he took a few more bites of his meal. The hot food dispelled some of his fatigue. "Tastes good, babe."

"Rough night?"

"Busy. Club business that would bore you to tears. Preparin' to bring in more bodies tomorrow."

Tara stared at him for a moment. She knew he was keeping something back, despite their agreement for full disclosure. She decided not to press him for more details. 'He's tired, and has to figure out how to get Abel back from Belfast.'

"When do you plan to go to Belfast?" she inquired instead.

"As soon as we can get a way over and the money together."

"The one I could help with, but the other is going to be difficult. It's not like you can take the bikes," she grinned slightly.

Jax grinned tiredly. "Too true. No bridge, and the bikes don't have flotation devices. Nor can we take more conventional means. Boats take too long, and with that bond revocation tomorrow, regular air travel is out of the question."

"How are you going to get there, then?"

"I don't know, babe. Clay's got a call in to the Irish. Maybe we can slip in with a gun cargo."

Tara winced at the idea. "Doesn't sound like a very comfortable way to travel."

"There's more to life than comfort, babe," Jax sighed, getting up and carrying his dishes to the sink. He rinsed them off and left them to be washed later.

"It's late, baby," Tara observed. "Maybe we should call it a night."

"Sounds good to me. I wanna shower first, then I'll join you."

"Shouldn't one of us wait up for Cat and Tig to bring the truck back and help them unload?"

"Nah. He'll go to the clubhouse and get help from the hangarounds or whoever's around. He'll give me the keys at church tomorrow," Jax replied, shedding his clothes as he headed for the bathroom.

Tara sighed and followed behind him, turning off lights and picking up his clothes along the way. She opened the bathroom door to find Jax standing in the shower, leaning both hands against the wall. His back was turned to the door as he allowed the hot water to ease the pain in his muscles.

Tara slipped inside long enough to toss his dirty clothes in the hamper, then shut the door behind her. A soft, indulgent smile crossed her face. 'There has to be something I can do to help him get Abel back! Maybe I can put the house up for a loan.'

Jax was also thinking over the problem of finances for the upcoming trip to Belfast. 'If we get the money back from the tracker, we'll be fine. There's always the possibility we won't get it back. Losin' the 'roid money and the other drugs to the Calavarez didn't help matters. Only thing left is the HIV drugs.'

His heart and soul rebelled against the idea of involving Tara in selling the HIV drugs. 'Any low income clinic would be glad to get their hands on those drugs, and she'd know which ones are in need. This is the kind of shit I don't want her involved in. It could hurt her career if the word got out, and with that supervisor on her ass, it'd get out.'

He grabbed the bar of soap and began washing away the day's grime. He wished he could wash his problems away as easily. By the time he stepped out of the shower to dry off, he'd only managed to build a solid determination to keep Tara out of selling the drugs. He was no closer to solving the travel dilemma, didn't feel he'd have any answers by morning, and was too tired to care.

Clay reclined in the chair next to Gemma's hospital bed, his hand gently stroking her hair as she slept. She was turned on her side so that she faced him. The television was on, but the volume was low so that Gemma's sleep wasn't disturbed.

Clay's mind wasn't on his wife, nor on the program on the screen across the room. He was thinking about the latest challenge facing the club, getting to Belfast and retrieving Abel. Maureen Ashby had proved that Abel was there, and Jax was taking care of delaying the bail revocation hearing.

There was still the matter of paying for the trip and getting there. Money was a major issue, with the Calavarez taking the money from Juice's sale of the steroids. The club still had the HIV protocol meds but no immediate buyers.

'If push comes to shove, Tara will just have to help us out with that. Might have to ask Cat to chip in as well. Neither Tig nor Jax will like that idea, but that's what old ladies are for. They'll be our back up if Bobby can't get the tracker money refunded.'

Clay was also concerned about the potential for Jax to uncover history that was best left unknown. He and Gemma had spent the last two decades keeping that history from their son. A chance word spoken in Jax's presence could mean trouble for Clay.

'I don't know how far I can trust the SAMBEL charter. Liam obviously lied about my grandson. And it's not like McGee to delay returnin' a call. I've got a really bad feelin' about this.'

Gemma stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled lovingly at Clay, then frowned at his pensive expression.

"You're worried, baby," she murmured.

"Yeah."

"My bein' here doesn't help."

"It's probably a good thing," Clay replied. "At least I know you're safe and bein' cared for. Dr. Gallagher's a good man."

"I'd rather be goin' to Belfast with you."

Clay's hand moved from her hair to her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. "I know. But we can't undo what's done, baby. We'll manage."

Gemma's eyes clouded with pain. "By the time you get back with him, I'll be locked up. From the way Stahl's talkin', I'll be on death row with no visitation."

"Don't worry. Lowen's lookin' into that. She'll be here tomorrow to talk to ya," Clay assured her.

"What are you going to do about the bond hearing? If Hale gets his way, none of you will get the chance to retrieve Abel." Gemma persisted.

"Not your concern," Clay replied gruffly. "That's why we have Rosen's office on retainer. Lowen's put in for a continuance. We could still get it." He knew they would get it, that's why Jax was meeting with Stahl. Clay hated keeping that from his wife, but he had no choice. They'd agreed to keep the women in the dark to insure Jax's plan would work.

Gemma sighed and tried to relax. "The way our luck has been runnin' lately, I'm not gonna bet on it. Maybe it's better that Jax not be able to go after Abel."

Clay was so startled by her comment that he sat straight in the chair to stare intently at her. "What do ya mean by that?"

"Maybe it's better to have SAMBEL retrieve Abel and bring him home. Definitely safer. That ancient history would stay buried."

"It would be a if we could trust them," Clay reminded her. "Liam flat out lied about Abel bein' in Belfast and he's McGee's right hand man. There's no tellin' how far that cancer's spread."

"But McGee's 'First Nine'!" Gemma protested. "He's always been loyal!"

"After 40 years, I'd hate to think McGee's turned against us. But how can he not know what Liam did?"

Gemma shook her head. McGee had been with the club when JT started it. She knew him as well as she knew Clay. "McGee might be torn between the IRA and the club, but he's always been loyal to us. That has to count for something."

"It does," Clay replied soothingly. 'At least for the moment.'

Alex shifted in the driver's seat of the pickup, alternating his gaze between the rear and side view mirrors, the ribbon of asphalt ahead, and Cat's sleeping form beside him. He was smoking one of the cigars from Impeccable Smokes Clay had given him a few weeks earlier. He had the driver's side window open a few inches out of courtesy for Cat's breathing.

Alex had found her tape labeled 'Thinking of Tig' in the music carrier she'd brought along. With Cat sound asleep, he thought it'd be a good time to find out what songs she associated with him.

'I hope to Hell it's not sappy shit!' he thought as the tape slid into the player. He tensed with anticipation of hearing a love - sick pop song. Instead, he was greeted with The Who's 'Behind Blue Eyes'.

He grinned and relaxed against the driver's seat, inhaling on the cigar. 'Good choice; I resemble it.' He was impressed with her ability to select music that reflected his personality, including the few ballads included in the mix.

He started to miss her company by the time they'd traveled mid - way to Charming. 'Cat was wantin' to tell me somethin' important earlier, then that gash waitress interrupted,' he thought, glancing once again at her. The lights from the dashboard seemed to heighten her pallor. 'Anyone capable of fallin' asleep on the shitter deserves as much rest as possible!'

He exhaled a long plume of fragrant cigar smoke as he thought over the vote the club had taken earlier that day. He hated the idea of leaving his wife in the dark, but there was no way around the club's decision, unlike Opie's declaration about the truth of Donna's death.

'I can't go against the vote. She'll learn the truth the same time the other women find out. But I can make sure she hears it from me by tapin' it!'

He knew he could easily confiscate Cat's miniature voice actuated tape recorder. She'd quit carrying it around after she'd found an application for making recordings with her Iphone. 'I can fully explain Jax's idea and give the thing to Chuckie to deliver when the time comes.'

He was reluctant to wake her, but couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. Meat Loaf's 'Lost Boys and Golden Girls' made him lonesome for her company. 'She's definitely a golden girl to this lost boy!' he thought, reaching over to stroke her hair. He loved the feel of it against his skin, soft and silken.

"Hey, baby! Wake up!" he called softly, moving his fingers from her hair to settle around the nape of her neck.

She stirred slightly, rubbing her cheek against his arm. "We home yet?" she inquired, her voice thick with sleep.

"Nope. Still a way from there. I was lonely," he replied, his fingers massaging the back of her neck.

"Did I snore?"

He snorted a laugh. "Not too much. I didn't have to turn the music up too high to hear it!"

Her face flushed as she recognized what music he was playing. 'Oh, Gawd! He's listenin' to the tape of songs I associate with him!'

"It's a'right, baby," he grinned slyly. "I approve of your choices."

"You're all heart," she drawled.

"That's not all I am, baby!" he leered. His grin faded as he added, "How ya feelin'?"

"Tired and stiff. You Ok with the drivin'?"

"Yeah. Just wanted company," he assured her. "You wanted to tell me somethin' back at the restaurant. Thought this was as good a time as any for ya to share it."

Cat stretched, wincing slightly from the restriction of the binder. Adding to her discomfort was that it had gotten bunched up. "I should've adjusted that damn thing at the restaurant!"

"That binder buggin' ya?"

"Yeah."

He grinned wolfishly. "I don't mind if ya need to adjust it!"

She gave him 'the look' . "I'm sure you wouldn't. Think I'll just put up with the discomfort if it's all the same to y'all!"

"Damn! I was lookin' forward to a free show!" he pouted.

"Too distractin', stud!" she grinned. "I'd like to get home in one piece!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!" he protested. "Are ya castin' doubts about my ability to control a vehicle?"

"Why, love! I'm surprised at y'all!" she replied in mock surprise. "I wouldn't dream of castin' doubts on any of your abilities!"

"No, you'd just do it!" he growled.

"Smart ass!" She grumbled, leaning forward to the center console and lifting the bottle of water she'd stored there. She frowned at the lukewarm feel of the plastic.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Her mouth was dry as a desert from sleep. "Nothin', the water got warm. At least it's wet," she opened the bottle and took a couple of sips.

"Nothin' wrong with somethin' wet and warm!" he grinned slyly, his hand sliding from the back of her neck around to her breast.

"You are incorrigible!" she sighed, shivering from his touch.

"Ya want me to close the window?" he inquired, deliberately misinterpreting the cause of her trembling.

"Nah. I'm not cold," she replied, reaching into the inner pocket of her coat and removing one of her cigarillos. "Got a light?"

"Not for you," he replied. "Ya don't need that shit to talk to me. What's up, baby?"

Cat shifted in her seat so that she could see him more clearly. "Findin' out about the bond revocation wasn't the only thing I got into while y'all were gone, love."

"Yeah?" His voice remained steady, but his fingers gripped the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

"Talked with Elliot Oswald on the phone about politics," she continued. "He's thinkin' of runnin' in the primary against Hale."

"Seems to me he'd be better off runnin' in the Fall," Alex observed. "What'd he do, hit ya up for a campaign donation?"

"Not exactly. He and Hale are in the same party, otherwise he would wait until Fall. Oswald believes Hale might win the primary, and no one's runnin' on the opposition, makin' Hale's bid pretty much an automatic win."

"I don't get what that's gotta do with the price of coffee in Charming, much less with you." Alex retorted.

"There's a seat on the city council up for renewal this Fall. Oswald suggested I consider throwin' my hat in the ring for that seat against the incumbent durin' the primary," she explained.

Alex didn't reply, but his hands gripped the steering wheel even harder. It was enough to tell her he wasn't happy with the idea, but was going to let her talk him into agreeing with it.

She took a deep breath and continued, "I know there's a lot of things y'all could say against it, love. I think it'd be good to for there to be someone on the council unwillin' to rubber stamp everything that asshat wants to do to the town," she added.

"But that's not your only reason for considerin' this, is it, baby?" Alex asked quietly. "You think if ya win that seat, it'll help the club."

She flushed and pawed through her pockets for her own lighter. Alex's removed his right hand from the steering wheel to cover her good hand, halting her nervous activity.

"Forgetting for a moment the good it'll do for the club, it's obvious you've given this a lot of thought. You're right about someone needin' to stand up to that fucktard. Why does it have to be you?"

"Because I'm the right person for the job," she replied simply. "I know y'all are worried, but I'm not gonna be all banged up forever, love! When all y'all go to Stockton, the council seat will keep me from goin' nerts from missin' y'all!"

His heart somersaulted in response to her off - hand admission. He'd known she'd miss him, but hadn't considered just how much his absence might bother her.

"It's not like we won't get to see each other," he replied huskily. "You'll be makin' regular trips to Stockton to stock the commissary."

Yeah, but it won't be the same. Our time together will be more limited than it already is," she countered.

"The primary's comin' up pretty soon," he replied gruffly, moving the conversation to what he felt was safe territory. The prospect of jail time didn't bother him; he'd been in prison before. The idea of being separated from his woman for a long period of time upset him. "Is there a lot of shit ya gotta do?"

"Been lookin' into that, love. I've gotta get a set number of signatures showin' there's bona fide support, and then file intent with the clerk's office. I figure Hale's not the only one who can play the sympathy card durin' the election."

"True dat," he sighed. "The whole damn town knows what happened to ya, and who brought the fucktards in that caused your injuries!"

"Exactly," she nodded.

"Won't your opponent use the club against ya?" Alex inquired. "Politicians can play dirty."

"I know. I've considered that," she assured him.

"Care to share with me?" he grinned, anticipating that whatever she had planned would definitely make the opposition squirm.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure y'all are gonna like it, love."

"Why?"

"Because we're gonna hafta come outta the closet about bein' married," she replied reluctantly.

"Sounds like the idea bothers you," Alex glared at her before turning his attention back to the road.

"Good God, no!" she protested hotly. "I was more concerned about how you'd react to it!"

The tape had automatically changed to its' other side, starting with Jim Steinman's 'Bad for Good' and proceeding on to Paul Stanley's Second to None''.

'I oughta be happy she added that to the mix. I played that for her on the way from her dad's back to the Indianapolis airport. Seemed to describe our relationship. I came outta that trip thinkin' we were closer to goin' public in Charming, but things stayed the same. It felt right for that church lady to call us 'Mr. and Mrs.' Made me wanna ask her about goin' public after we get back from Belfast.' The idea that she'd only considered it because of her political aspirations wounded him to the core.

Alex suddenly felt claustrophobic. He couldn't draw a decent breath and his hands shook against the steering wheel. He abruptly pulled the pickup into the breakdown lane, hitting the brakes hard enough that they both bounced back against the seats. He unsnapped his seat belt, opened the door, and slid out of the cab.

"Alex, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"What the fuck do ya think is wrong?" he snarled over his shoulder. "How do ya think it feels to find out that after renewin' our vows at your father's, the only reason ya wanna go now public is because it's politically correct!"

The pain in his voice caught her off guard. "You honestly can't believe that, love!"

"Wanna bet?" he growled challengingly.

"Yes, I do! All this time, y'all have acted like you're OK with the status quo!"

"Think again!"

"Then why did y'all agree to it in the first place?" she countered.

"Because ya convinced me it would be safer for ya, baby," he groaned, turning to glare at her. He pointed at her injuries and snarled, "Did a lot of fuckin' good, didn't it?"

He slammed the driver's side door and stalked away from the vehicle. The force behind the gesture made the truck vibrate. She watched in dismay as he stopped a few yards from the truck, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

'Ah, Hell! How did this conversation go sour so fast! I was hopin' he'd be receptive to the idea because he didn't growl and scowl when Mrs. Peters called me 'Mrs. Trager.' He's completely forgotten what it meant to renew our vows in front of the family!'

She sighed wearily, then opened the passenger door and slid carefully from the cab. She winced as the impact with the ground shot through her body. She gritted her teeth and stood still until her legs felt sturdy enough to support her.

Alex had his back to the truck, staring out at the plowed field next to the highway. His hand rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was already regretting his outburst.

'I didn't handle that well.' He shook his head slightly. 'Why the Hell am I actin' like she didn't do the greatest thing anyone had ever done for me! What the fuck's wrong with me that I wanna hurt her like this?' '

She could barely see his shadowy form. Alex was just outside the headlights' range. The orange - red glow from the cigar served as a beacon to guide her to him.

Though she was limping, Cat moved forward without making a tell tale sound. Alex sensed her approach and his entire body stiffened. He didn't look at her, nor reach out to touch her. His arms were crossed over his chest, one hand rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Other than his ramrod straight stance, the only other visible sign of his distress was his clenched jaw. His teeth had bitten the cigar in half. Cat knew that he was deeply hurt and she was the cause of it. She reached out her good hand to him in entreaty. "Alex, -"

"There was only one thing of value I had to give ya when I asked ya to marry me," he interjected in a hard, thick voice. "That was my name. I didn't want ya to know how much it hurt when ya played the safety card. Ya brought it up so fast that I thought ya were ashamed of me!"

"Oh for God's sake, love! Y'all know damn good and well that's was never the case!"

"Shut the fuck up and listen!" he snarled, turning to glare at her. The headlight beams hit his eyes, making them gleam like two icebergs in the dark. "It made sense when I thought about it," he added in a gentler tone. "Hell, Gem doesn't use Clay's last name often, and they've been married years! That's why I went along with the idea all this time."

She closed her eyes against the pain in his voice. Hot tears pushed at her eyelids. "Christ, Alex! I didn't know y'all felt rejected! I regretted the idea as soon as the words came outta my big mouth!"

"Then why didn't ya take 'em right back?" he countered.

"Because you agreed it was a good idea after I explained it. Y'all married me and never said another word about it. To be honest it didn't bother me until the night after the shroom trip, when y'all confessed about killin' Donna. I wanted to end the pretense then."

"Why didn't ya?" he asked gruffly, suspecting he already knew the answer.

"I was afraid y'all would turn me down," she replied softly, her voice thick with tears. "Jesus, Alex, didn't the renewal ceremony in Indiana prove anythin' to you?"

The pain and despair in her voice tore at his heart. 'Why am I doin' this to her? What kind of sick fuck am I?' Alex turned and walked to her, reaching both arms out to her, wincing when she flinched.

Cat couldn't help her reaction. Alex could be unpredictable when his temper was roused, and she felt terrible that she'd caused him pain. She stiffened in anticipation of getting a good shaking or worse. To her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him, laying his chin on top of her head.

"Yeah. It did. Technically, we did go public then we went to Indiana," he admitted gruffly. "Ya made damn sure your friends and family knew you were proud to be my wife and that ya weren't ashamed of me."

"Well, we did varnish the truth a little bit," she sighed, shuddering and relaxing in his embrace. Hot tears leaked from her eyes, soaking the gauze covering her injured eye. She slid her arm out of the sling so that she could wrap both arms around his waist.

"I never wanted to hurt you, love," she murmured apologetically, resting her cheek against his chest. "I wanted y'all to know how much you mean to me; how proud I am to have your name. That's why I asked Daddy to perform the ceremony in front of the family."

Alex nestled her head under his chin, his eyes staring unseeingly at the field beside them. His mind flew back to the day he'd met Cat's aunt and some of her cousins. The day they'd renewed their wedding vows.

Cat wandered out onto the deck, squinting in the sunlight. Alex was sitting in the lawn swing in the back yard, enjoying a smoke and a cup of coffee.

"Hey!" she called out.

"Hey back. C'mon over and sit with me. I'm lonely!" he patted the empty space next to him.

She stepped off the porch and walked to the swing, settling next to him. "You nervous about meetin' the Marshall clan?"

"Ya make it sound like an ordeal," he countered, slipping an arm around her shoulders to draw her close to him. "A few cousins, an aunt and uncle or two isn't as intimidating as a horde of Mayans."

"You're a very brave man, love," she grinned, snuggling against him. Her body quivered with excitement, too much to attribute to seeing her family.

"OK, spill. You're up to somethin'!" he growled. A long stream of smoke flowed from his nostrils as he spoke.

"Who, me?"

"Ya sit on a branch and shit through feathers?" he asked dryly. "Quit impersonatin' an owl and tell me what's goin' on in that head of yours."

"Nothin' major, love. I asked Daddy about performin' a little ceremony for the benefit of the family. They missed out on our first one."

"First one?" His brows furrowed as he tried to follow her thinking. "Are ya talkin' about the weddin' in Vegas?"

"Have we had any other ceremonies, love?" she grinned.

His heart soared at the thought of renewing their vows in front of her family, and of having her father officiate in the ceremony. 'If I needed any more proof that she's not ashamed to be my wife, this is it!' He was so overwhelmed that he couldn't speak.

Deliberately misinterpreting the reason for his silence, Cat nudged his side and snickered, "Don't tell me the big bad - ass biker is scared of a little ceremony!"

"Fuck no!" he assured her. "It's just that I didn't bring anything but jeans."

"Neither did I, love. Mother always believed I'd get married in jeans. I kinda liked that idea, but Bill was too traditional." She rubbed her cheek against his arm, much like her cats would rub against her legs. "Daddy co - officiated my weddin' to Bill, so it only seemed right to have him tie our knot, even if it is the second time around."

"Oughta make it twice as strong," he remarked with a sly grin. He sobered as he considered Blaine's frail health. "This won't be too hard on your father, will it?"

"He's lookin' forward to it, love. He lit up like a hundred watt bulb when I asked him." She patted his thigh and stood up.

"Where ya goin'?"

"Just uptown to Tater's."

"What the fuck is Tater's?"

"The local record store. I took y'all there."

Alex relaxed in the swing. "Oh, yeah. Never would've figured a store like that could make it in this kinda place. It certainly wouldn't work in Charming."

"Charmin's not a college town. Tater's caters to all musical tastes, and that's what keeps it alive. It's likely they'll have a certain piece of music I want to use."

"What's that?"

She winked at him. "Wait and see, love! I'll be back shortly."

She wasn't gone long, and by the time she returned from her mysterious errand, she had enough time to make a tape for the ceremony before the relatives descended on them. Alex hung around, hoping to get an advance hearing, but she prevented that by using headphones to mix the music.

Alex felt confident about meeting the scrutiny of her father's side of the family. He'd already met Cat's step - niece and her little boy. They'd accepted him without reservation. He expected no less from the remainder of the family.

Though Cat had told him numerous stories of growing up with her seven cousins, he was only going to be contending with one aunt and two of the cousins and their spouses and children. As he expected, they quickly accepted him into the family, teasing him over the many ways Cat would turn his life upside down.

Rev. Marshall announced that he would be conducting a marriage renewal ceremony out in the back yard. The announcement was met with wide approval.

"I'll give the bride away for y'all Uncle Blaine!" Geoff offered quickly.

"Wish we'd known this was going to happen, so we could've dressed more appropriately!" Cat's aunt lamented.

"All y'all are dressed just fine," Cat assured them. "This is a very casual affair."

She was dressed in dark blue denim, blue suede boots, and a dark blue mock turtle shirt. A small gold cat necklace hung around her neck.

Alex was also clad in dark blue denim, along with a long sleeved button down black shirt. The shirt was open at the neck.

"Well, all y'all have the somethin' blue down pat, but what about the new, old, and borrowed?" Geoff's wife inquired.

"You'll hear the new in a minute, and the old is the necklace," Cat replied.

"Then you need somethin' borrowed," her aunt stated, rummaging in her purse. "Here! Y'all can use this!"

She withdrew a small white Bible from her purse and handed it to her niece.

"Perfect!" Cat grinned. "There's a certain readin' I wanted to do, and this will help!"

"Shall we adjourn to the back yard, then?" Rev . Marshall opened the sliding doors leading to the deck. "Alex, you definitely need to come with me!"

He gazed entreatingly at his wife, who waved merrily at him and took her cousin's arm. Rev. Marshall took Alex by the elbow and led him out to the back yard.

"He did do this before, right?" Geoff remarked. "He seems as nervous as if it's the first time!"

"He'll be all right, darlin'," Cat replied. "Meetin' all y'all and renewin' one's vows can be a little overwhelmin' to anybody!"

"Includin' a bad - ass outlaw biker?"

Cat gazed in shock at her cousin. "How'd y'all know?"

"I saw his ink, besides the Marine Corps tattoo. He didn't have to tell me that the other ones were related to an outlaw group."

"And you'd know the difference because?" she drawled in challenge.

"I did serve a stint in the Air Force. There were a few fellas with tats, and some of 'em were affiliated with outlaw clubs," he explained.

"You're not gonna spill the beans, I hope?" she asked warily.

"Listen, if Uncle Blaine is buyin' the story that he's a full time mechanic and an entrepreneur on the side, I'm not gonna ruin it for him," Geoff assured her.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, cuz."

"Are y'all sure about what you've gotten yourself in to, kitten?" he asked, resorting to the nickname he'd used on her for years.

"I am, cuz. He makes me happy and keeps me safe."

Geoff smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "That's all I had to hear, kitten. Let's get this show on the road."

"I agree!" Alex growled from the doorway, glowering at them. "What d'ya think you're doin' in here, anyway?"

"Just talkin', love," Cat grinned, completely unafraid of his scowling visage. She walked over to him and gave him a quick, reassuring hug.

"Ya could at least act intimidated!" he growled just loud enough for her to hear. "Especially in front of the family!"

"Sorry, love," she snickered. "I forgot."

"Thought for a minute ya were gettin' cold feet," he retorted, hiding relief behind his usual caveman - like bluster.

"Never, love. Go on back outside. I'll be joinin' y'all shortly."

"You'd better!" he frowned warningly, holding her close to him another moment before returning to the back yard.

She picked up one of the speakers from the stereo and moved it near the opened sliding glass door. "Y'all ready?" she asked her cousin.

"If y'all are," Geoff assured her.

She turned on the stereo and pressed 'play' on the cassette recorder. The introduction to Neil Diamond's 'Forever in Blue Jeans' drifted out of the speakers.

As she slipped her arm into Geoff's, they heard their relatives laughing appreciatively. "Guess they remember Mother's lament, too!"

"It wasn't always bad, kitten. She was a fun person before she changed. I think she'd be thrilled to see this happenin'," Geoff replied softly.

"I think so, too," she sighed. They stepped out onto the deck and Cat's attention was immediately drawn to Alex. He stood tall and silent beside the storage shed, his eyes fixed on her. Her father stood next to Alex.

She didn't see the smiling faces of her father and the rest of the family. She was barely conscious of Geoff's arm under her hand. All she knew was that her man was waiting for her to come to him.

'Oh, yeah. She's got it bad for that guy!' Geoff mused as he walked his cousin across the lawn.

As they came to a stop in front of Rev. Marshall, Neil Diamond gave way to Pachebel's 'Canon'.

Cat's father began the time honored ceremony, while Alex grinned proudly at her.

'I wouldn't put it past to her to have figured out the timin' in advance!'

"Who gives this woman to be married?" Rev. Marshall inquired.

"I do, on your behalf, Uncle Blaine!" Geoff responded, placing her hand in Alex's and kissing her cheek. "Be happy, kitten."

"I am," she replied, never taking her eyes off Alex's face.

Their voices never wavered in repeating the vows from Vegas, though Cat's eyes misted and her voice grew husky when she read the passage from the book of Ruth again. The words held a great deal of significance to both of them.

Alex wasn't as nervous as the previous time. His hands didn't shake in hers. His voice was deep and calm when he repeated the vows he'd made a few weeks earlier. The hurt that had settled in his soul when she'd suggested they keep their marriage secret was driven away by the joy her gesture had given him.

"I now pronounced you husband and wife. What God has joined together, let no one put asunder!" Rev. Marshall announced, his eyes twinkling with joy.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Wasn't there supposed to a vow about 'obey'?" he asked innocently.

"Not anymore son," Rev. Marshall replied with a grin. "Cat's never been very good at being obedient. She definitely wouldn't have agreed to it!"

"Y'all got that right!" Cat smiled wickedly. "Unless a certain someone agrees to 'obey' as well!"

"Forget I asked!" Alex capitulated.

"Then you may now kiss your bride."

"'Bout time!" he growled, enfolding her in his arms and kissing her heartily, sealing the vows they'd made. His teeth playfully nipped her lower lip. "That's for the 'obey' thing!" he whispered against her mouth.

"Y'all are gonna pay for that, Mr. Trager!" she laughed against his lips before pulling away from his kiss.

"I fully intend to," he whispered, clasping her hand over his heart.

Their light banter was interrupted by a flurry of hugs and congratulations from the Marshall family.

"I'm starved!" Geoff announced in the midst of the congratulations. "Don't suppose there's any cake around?"

"Not here, cuz," Cat replied. "But I know where all y'all can eat your fill. I made reservations for us at the 'Black Buggy'. My treat."

Alex's hands moved to her shoulders, pushing her away from him just enough that he could gaze into her eye. Behind them, John Cafferty's 'A Matter of Time' drifted out the open driver's window of the truck.

"Talk about good timin'!' he grinned down at her. "It was just a matter of time before I realized you were protectin' me, not hurtin' me. It's been a long time since somebody gave a damn about my feelin's or wanted me to feel included. You gave that to me."

His hand traveled from her shoulders to frame her face. The pads of his thumbs brushed the tears away from her cheeks. "Ya need to stop the waterworks before ya damage that eye," he growled before bending his head to press his lips against hers.

"I'm sorry for makin' that crack about comin' outta the closet bein' 'politically correct'," he whispered huskily against her mouth.

"I know," her lips curved in a smile under his. "It was just your inner caveman lettin' off steam."

"You're gonna pay for that, woman!" he growled, scooping her into his arms and carrying her back to the truck.

She squealed with laughter, snuggling against his chest as he strode to the truck. He managed to open the door without dropping her and placed her in the passenger seat. He nuzzled the back of her neck, making her squeal again from the tickling of his beard and mustache.

"I told ya you'd pay for that!" he laughed, securing the seat belt across her body.

"Just remember that payback is a bitch, and so am I!" she retorted.

"I'm so scared!" he grinned, leaning against the dashboard.

She slid her injured arm back in the sling before reaching out with her good hand to place her hand against one cheek. "You should be!" she retorted.

He leaned into the caress of her hand, much like the cats would rub against her. "So when do ya plan to file?"

"I'm gonna start gettin' the signatures tomorrow. I'll start with the customers at the coffeehouse, then start working the white pages for support." She outlined her campaign plan, including her desire not to force her employees to help out.

"I don't want them to feel like they have to help the campaign to keep their jobs," she explained. "I'm gonna put a sign on the community bulletin board with a notice askin' anyone interested to sign the petition."

"Ya thinkin' of rentin' a store front of some kind?"

She shrugged, ignoring the discomfort from the bunched up binder. "Don't know yet, love. It's a little too soon to decide on that."

"Maybe Oswald will let ya use a corner of his headquarters," Alex observed. "Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought. At least you won't be drivin' the customers away and cuttin' into our bottom line," his approval was tinged with mock relief.

"Gee! So glad to have all y'all's support!" she scoffed. "Get on over to your side of the truck and get to drivin'! At this rate, it'll be dawn before we get home, and you've got that vote tomorrow."

He pouted at her, though he knew she was right. "I hate it when you're sensible," he grumbled, closing the door and walking around the front of the truck to the driver's side.

"Y'all wouldn't want me any other way," she replied as he slid behind the wheel.

"Wanna bet?" he drawled, starting the engine and throwing the gear into drive, easing the truck back into the traffic lane. "Come to think of it, there's another advantage to us goin' public."

"Oh, there is, is there?" she drawled. She had a pretty good idea that he was thinking something sexual. His answer didn't disappoint her.

"Yeah," he leered. "Bein' married means we get conjugal visits!"

Stahl leaned back in her chair with a tired, but triumphant sigh of relief. Her eyes burned from copying her report about the shootings at the Hayes residence onto the laptop, and then revamping key elements of the report. It took some time, but she felt confident that the write up would persuade the US Attorney that Gemma had killed Patty Zobelle in self defense, and had nothing to do with Edmond Hayes death.

She reread the report, checking for anything that might alert the US Attorney that the story was false. 'Including that Zobelle's daughter had been involved in the gang rape will serve as a credible reason why Gemma followed the girl, and why she chose to confront her in Galt. She's going to wonder about the change of players, but that's Jax's problem. All I have to do is be present when she makes the statement and make my reactions appear real. Once it's on record, there's no turning back.'

Stahl inserted her flash drive into the USB port of the laptop, and saved the file to the flash. Then she sent the file to the laptop's recycle bin and ordered the computer to delete the item. She clicked on 'OK' at the prompt that asked if she were sure she wanted to empty the recycle bin. "Yes, I'm definitely sure!" she murmured.

Seconds later, the recycle bin icon showed as empty. Stahl selected the command that would enable her to safely remove the flash drive from the USB port, waiting for the prompt to indicate she could safely do so.

Satisfied that all evidence of her duplicity couldn't be easily recovered, Stahl shut down the laptop and returned it to the carry case, pocketing the flash drive in her robe. She rubbed her raw, aching eyes and turned off the desk light.

Stahl remained seated in the desk chair for a few moments, allowing her eyesight to adjust to the darkness. The desk clock had a 'glow in the dark' face so that she could easily see the time. She winced at the lateness of the hour.

'I'd have gotten to this sooner if it hadn't been necessary to ensure Amy wouldn't wake up when I left the bed!' Stahl observed a bit crankily. A slight smiled softened her features. 'Still, it was a pleasurable enough way to make certain! If only she'd gone back to bed like I told her, this wouldn't be necessary! It's a rotten way to thank her, but I've come too far in this investigation with the IRA to let sentiment hold me back.'

Her wistful expression was replaced by an iron determination. 'It's got to be this way. There's no choice. Amy won't sit still and let this happen. She'll fight it, and that means I'll have to take her out and make it look job related.'

She sighed in resignation, stood up, and enjoyed a bone cracking stretch before drifting across the office to the closed door. She leaned her ear against it, listening for any tell tale sounds indicating that she might not have been as thorough with her lover as she'd thought.

She smiled in satisfaction to hear nothing on the other side of the door. She quietly opened the door and slipped out, stepping softly up each stair and slipping into the bedroom.

Tyler was curled up on her side, her eyes closed and moving in what Stahl recognized as REM sleep. She glided softly to her side of the bed, removing her robe and laying on the foot of the bed as usual.

She removed the flash drive from the robe and slipped it into the bedside table drawer. 'I'll put it in my purse in the morning,' she yawned and slid between the covers, turning onto her side with her back to Tyler. Within a few minutes, Stahl was sound asleep.

Tyler's eyes popped open once Stahl lay down next to her. Despite the rousing lovemaking they'd enjoyed to celebrate the success arrest of Lucas Morant, Tyler had awakened a couple of hours after she'd passed out to find herself alone in the bed.

Stahl's side of the bed was stone cold, a sure indication her lover had been up for quite awhile. A sort of sixth sense cops develop nagged at her. She knew something wasn't right with June, and hadn't been right since Jax Teller had knocked on their door.

Tyler had padded out of the bedroom, telling herself she was concerned about Stahl. She'd checked the bathroom, then the kitchen, becoming more worried when she didn't find her lover.

As Tyler padded down the hall back to the staircase, she noticed the strip of light showing under the bottom of the office door. 'Funny, I thought we'd left that door open earlier!' She'd placed her ear against the door and heard the faint sound of keys being tapped.

'Why would June be working at the computer this late at night? She was satisfied with the report I wrote about the arrest! Does this have something to do with the deal Jax Teller offered?'

Tyler's heart sank into her stomach, which rolled ominously. She ran lightly up the stairs to the bathroom, arriving just in time to toss her cookies in the commode.

She remained bent over the toilet, both hands grasping the seat while she dry - heaved a few times. She flushed the toilet, then ran water to brush her teeth and clean her face. Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her. She was whiter than a sheet, her eyes as round and large as saucers.

'I don't know what's going on, but I've got a really bad feeling about this!' She stared at herself, debating whether she should confront June, or just wait to see what would happen.

She climbed back into bed, drawing the covers up to her neck. She trembled from shock and fear until the covers managed to warm her enough to end the tremors.

Tyler heard June's tread on the stairs and closed her eyes, willing herself to relax and appear to be asleep. She reminded herself that she needed to move her eyelids to imitate deep REM sleep in order to make Stahl believe she was slumbering.

She heard Stahl's normal bed time ritual; the sound of the belt to her robe coming undone, then sliding down June's body. The sound of the bedside table opening and closing. Then the slight movement of the mattress as it accepted June's weight.

Tyler fought to stay relaxed, anticipating that June might snuggle next to her. Surprise mingled with relief flooded through her when June turned on her side, back to back with her. A few minutes later, Stahl's breathing pattern indicated she was asleep.

Tyler remained awake for several hours, her mind working furiously over the events of the night, wondering if she could really trust the woman lying next to her. By the time dawn began to color the sky outside the bedroom windows, Tyler was no closer to a decision.

Cat managed to stay awake for the remainder of the drive to Charming. She knew Alex was tired though he wouldn't let her take over the driving. They didn't talk much. Alex seemed content just to have her near and to listen to the music she selected once the 'Thinking of Tig' tape had completed.

'This had been a quite an day!' Alex mused, glancing over at his wife. 'I'm still tryin' to figure out the best way to tell her about Belfast. Dunno why it's botherin' me. It's not like she's gonna fly off the handle, for fuck's sake!'

He shifted in the driver's seat, wincing from the throbbing in his shoulder. He hadn't taken any Vicodin and was more aware of the pain from the healing wound. All the lifting and carrying he'd done hadn't helped matters. 'If I'd taken that shit, Cat would've relegated me to the passenger seat quicker than layin' a bike down on black ice!'

"Y'all got ants in your pants, love? You're shiftin' in your seat like ya got an itch!" Cat observed wryly.

"No ants, but I've got an itch, a'right!" he grinned. "The kind only you can relieve!"

"Later, stud muffin," she growled. "It's late, we need to get this crate unloaded and get home at a relatively decent hour."

"Damn! Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I married y'all, didn't I?" she retorted. "Look, love, there's the town limits sign!" she pointed at the carved wooden sign welcoming them to Charming.

"Good thing we're nearly home. I've got a good mind to make ya walk home for that crack!"

"So many jokes, so little time," she smirked. "I can always call June to pick me up, so I wouldn't be on shanksmare for long!"

Alex shook his head. "You and that freakin' vocabulary! Shanksmare!"

She playfully smacked his arm. "I showed y'all where I picked up that word!"

"A comic book!" he rolled his eyes.

"Not just any comic book, love! A 'Lois Lane' comic book from the late sixties/early seventies, thank you very much!" she retorted.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. 'Witch on Wheels'. I read it, but like ya in black better than Lois in white."

"Y'all have good taste," she purred. "But back to the subject, what's buggin' y'all that you're wigglin' like a worm on a hook?"

"I'd rather ya hear it from me than the grapevine," he sighed, pulling the truck to the side of the road again and putting the gear into park. He turned in the seat to face her. "We aren't goin' to Vancouver. Abel ain't there. He's in Belfast."

There. It was out. Plain and simple. He waited tensely for her reaction.

She reached out to turn off the stereo, cutting off Alice Cooper's 'You and I' in mid chorus. "Talk about openin' an interestin' can of worms!" she remarked softly. "Any idea how all y'all are gettin' there, much less how all y'all are gonna get away before the bond revocation hearin'?"

"The guys are workin' on that," he replied quietly, inwardly relieved by her 'sensible' reaction. "It's a pretty good chance we won't be around for the hearin'.

"I was afraid of that," she sighed. "Transportation is gonna be a bitch. It's not like all y'all are gonna be able to use commercial means once the wanted posters go out."

"True dat. We'll prolly hitch a ride on some cargo transport of some kind, maybe outta Vancouver."

Cat whistled soundlessly. "That doesn't sound very invitin'!"

"There are worse things than bein' ass to chest with a bunch of other men in a military cargo plane or boat. I've done both," Alex reminded her.

"Unless y'all develop a likin' for haggis and stay in Ireland, there's no doubt you'll get slam dunked into Stockton on your return," she mused.

"What the fuck is haggis?" Alex inquired. 'From the sound of the word, I'm prolly gonna wish I hadn't asked!'

"Sheep intestines," she grinned wickedly.

Alex put up a hand and squawked, "Stop, stop, stop! I don't wanna hear any more!"

"Hey, y'all asked!" she replied. "Don't blame me if y'all don't like the answer!"

"Stop!" he put his hands over his ears.

Cat chuckled and reached across the cab to pat his knee consolingly. "There, there, love! I won't torment y'all any longer!"

"Ya better not!" he growled warningly, dropping his hands to the steering wheel.

"Stahl will likely try to have extra time added to your jail time," she artfully switched the subject back to their original discussion.

If she doesn't, Hale might," Alex replied wryly.

"I wouldn't put it past that fucktard!" she growled.

"This must be the reason Clay was pushin' y'all to vote Kozik in."

"Doesn't change anything, baby. I'm not votin' that asshat to patch into SAMCRO."

She stifled a smile and stared out the windshield. She didn't like the idea of another separation so soon after the last one. 'I'm not gonna make this any harder for him by insistin' he stay home. He can't. Clay's gonna expect most of the club to go.'

Alex watched the emotions play across her profile. He knew she wasn't looking forward to being without him. "I know your heritage includes Ireland, baby, and if it were possible for ya to go, I'd bring ya in a heartbeat."

Cat glanced at him in surprise. "Yeah, right. And I've got swamp land in Arizona for sale at a bargain price."

Alex grinned back at her. "Seriously. Gem would've gone along if she hadn't fallen into Stahl's trap. A pressurized plane with your injuries wouldn't be a good thing for ya."

Her insides melted to hear him admit he wanted her along. "Damn. Wish to Hell I was up to the trip. I'd love to see some of the old country," she replied wistfully.

"Someday, baby, we'll go there - for all the right reasons," he vowed.

She shrugged and pointed at the stretch of highway before them. "We'd better get movin', love. The sooner we get to the compound and unload this beast, the sooner we can go home."

"I like the sound of that," he shifted the gear into 'drive' and pulled the truck smoothly back into the travel lane. "Wanna call the clubhouse and warn 'em we're comin'?"

She nodded and dug her Iphone from her pocket.

"SAMCRO clubhouse. Chuckie speaking."

"Hey, darlin'! It's Cat. We're headin' to the clubhouse. Anyone else there?"

"Hey, Miss Cat! Filthy Phil and Miles are here, along with Chibs and a couple of Croweaters. Everything go OK?"

"Yeah, Chuckie. We got Gemma's stuff. Have the guys meet us at the storage area."

"We'll be waiting for you," Chuckie replied.

Cat pressed the 'end call' button and slid the Iphone back in her pocket. "Seems like Chuckie's makin' a place for himself with the club."

"He's pretty handy," Alex replied innocently.

She wrinkled her nose and waved her good hand in front of her face. "Damn! That stinks!"

He laughed heartily as they pulled into the lot entrance to the clubhouse and Teller - Morrow. The headlights briefly illuminated Chuckie, the hangarounds, and Chibs standing next to the picnic table.

Tig piloted the pick up around the garage to the storage area, glancing momentarily at the closed door where the Challenger had been stored. 'Likely Dog got the chassis to the body shop by now. Hope I can do a little work on the engine and shit before we get locked up. Prolly hafta ask Piney or Dog to finish the job while I'm in jail.'

The men trotted behind the pick up, catching up to it just as Tig stopped in front of an empty storage room. Before he managed to slide out of the cab, Chibs had the storage room door open while Miles and Phil began unloading boxes.

"Ye jest stay rite where ye aire, brudda," Chibs advised. "We'll unload this beastie an' 'ave ye on yer way shortly!"

Tig started to protest, but Chibs held up his hand in a gesture that stifled him before he could get a word out. "Nay, laddie. Ye've dun enuf today, frum tha look o' ye. Jest relax." He grinned across the cab at Cat, adding "An tha' goes fer ye, too, Lady Cat!"

"What's sauce for the gander, is just as good for the goose!" Tig chuckled.

"I'll goose y'all!" Cat growled.

"Promise?"

"That's for me to know!" she retorted, trying unsuccessfully to keep from grinning at him.

"Hurry up, guys! We wanna get home!" Tig hollered out the open window. Chuckie leapt into action, grabbing a box in his arms and scurrying to the storage room.

Minutes later, the boxes were unloaded and Tig wasted little time in pulling away from the building. The truck's hemi engine roared as he careened out of the lot and on to the street.

Chuckie glanced conspirationally at Chibs. "Think they'll make it back to the house?"

"Jest barely, laddie," Chibs grinned.

"I accept that!"

Kozik unlocked the door to his hotel room and turned on the light at the same moment he tossed his duffel onto the bed. 'Not bad for $35 a night,' he mused, laying his helmet on the table near the window and drawing the blinds.

The hotel was located near the interstate, not far from the San Joaquin county line. The same hotel he'd stayed in after the SAMTAC Prez had unceremoniously dismissed him from Charming during the SAMCRO lockdown and confrontation with LOAN.

Kozik withdrew the letter of transfer from his inner cut pocket, staring at it with both pleasure and trepidation. 'It's a mighty big step to take on faith,' he mused, placing the letter next to his helmet and flinging himself onto the bed.

He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He'd been thinking over his situation ever since the night of Half - Sack's wake, when he'd announced his intention to Clay to return to SAMCRO. Bobby had reminded him that patching back in would lay with Tig.

'He prolly hoped I'd give up right then, considerin' the bad blood between us. It ain't gonna be easy to get Tig to agree to lettin' me come back. Maybe we can iron shit out if we meet tonight.'

That was the reason he'd ridden to Charming a day ahead of the vote. His intention was to meet with Tig and his old lady and clear the air between them.

'I really fucked up last time. Shoulda never tried to put a wedge between 'em. Didn't win any points with the broad, much less with Tig. It's been eight fuckin' years, time to bury the past and move on.'

He swung his legs over to the side of the bed and grabbed the telephone book, turning to the yellow pages. He found the listing for Charming Pawse under the heading of 'coffee shops' and entered the number into his cell phone.

"Thanks for callin' Charmin' Pawse," announced Cat's voice after three rings. "If all y'all are gettin' this voice mail durin' business hours, it means we're attendin' to our customers. Our regular business hours are -"

Kozik sighed in exasperation and glanced at the digital read out on his cell phone. "It's not closin' time, so they must be busy. Wonder if her home number's unlisted?"

He turned to the white pages and turned to the 'M's', smirking when he found her full name and address listed. 'Gutsy broad. None of that first initial, last name shit women do. Just sticks herself right out there. Bet Tiggy doesn't like that!'

He grinned and entered her home number into the cell, holding his breath as he listened to the rings. "Thanks for the call, but we're kinda busy and can't talk to y'all right now. Leave your message along with a callback number, and we'll get back with y'all as soon as possible."

Kozik ended the call without leaving a message. "Well, Hell!" he snarled, tossing the phone on the bed beside him. "Bet she's screenin' caller ID and lettin' unknown numbers go to voice mail! Tig would've taught her that much!"

He didn't want to call the clubhouse and tip off the entire club to his presence. "Guess there's nothin' else to do but head to Charming and do some reconnaissance!"

He shrugged out of his cut, leaving it on the bed. With just his plain jacket and helmet, he felt confident that none of Charming's residents would know him from any other non outlaw biker. 'As long as I stay away from the clubhouse, I should be OK,' he assured himself as he strode to his bike.

The setting sun painted dark pastel hues across the sky during his ride into Charming, but Kozik didn't notice Mother Nature's artful display. His mind was too centered on his need to win Tig over.

He rode first to the house his one time friend shared with Cat. Tig's Dyna was parked behind a Chrysler 300 M sitting in the drive. 'Wouldn't have thought his woman would go for a gangster car like that to replace her PT.'

Hope that he might have an opportunity to persuade Tig to let him patch back into the mother charter surged through Kozik as he parked the bike on the street. He set his helmet on the rear view mirror and sauntered up the drive to the front door.

'This is a lot better than the last time I was here. No one's pointin' a gun at my cock!' He wrinkled his nose at the memory of Cat perched on the porch railing, casually aiming her semi - automatic directly at his nether regions.

"Hope she doesn't answer the door armed and ready to shoot first, ask questions later!" he prayed before pushing the doorbell.

Beyond the door, he heard the patter of feline paws racing to the door, and a feminine voice call out, "Y'all just keep your furry little behind indoors, Ebony!"

'That's not Cat's voice!' Kozik frowned. The accent was similar, but a little higher pitched than Tig's woman. 'Has he got a harem in there?'

The door opened a crack so that half a pixie face and one blue eye attached to a half a small sized frame gazed out at him. "Hey! Can I help y'all?" her clear voice warmly greeted him.

"Um, yeah -"

"'Scuze me a sec," the woman interjected, glancing down at the large black feline next to her. He was pawing at the door, trying to force it open enough that he could escape.

"Get back, you! You're an 'in' kitty and y'all know it. Your mom would scalp me if y'all got your furry ass outside!"

"Yeah, that sounds like her, a'right!" Kozik grinned.

The woman shoved the black feline aside with her foot and slipped out the door, closing it swiftly behind her. "Y'all speak like you've had first hand experience with her temper," she smiled, extending her hand to the biker. "I'm June, Cat's friend. I've been stayin' with her while Tig was outta town."

"Herman," Kozik supplied only his first name. He accepted the small hand she extended, enfolding it in his gloved one.

"You a friend of Tig's?" June inquired, gazing up into the rider's face to find her own reflected back at her from his sunglasses. She gave him a quick once over without giving the appearance of doing so, taking in that he didn't have a vest like Alex's, but he did have a tattoo on his neck. The tattoo neck indicated he was a member of SAMCRO. 'Wonder why he's not wearin' his cut?'

"In a manner of speakin'," Kozik replied evasively. "Is he here?"

'That explains it! He's not local!' June casually withdrew her hand from his and shook her head. "Sorry, sport. He and Cat are runnin' an errand for Mrs. Morrow."

"Oh. I heard she was in the hospital. How's she doin'?"

"She's fine," June replied.

"Did they give ya any idea when they'd be back?" Kozik felt frustrated by June's evasive answers, though he admired her loyalty and caution.

'I've got a bad feelin' about this. He's askin' too many questions to be a friend of Tig's, even if he's with a branch of the club.' June mused to herself, carefully keeping her expression and tone of voice friendly and natural. "Should be anytime. Y'all wanna leave a message for Tig?"

Kozik took a step back from June. He'd not missed the flare of momentary suspicion cross June's features, nor the slight shift in her posture that indicated her guard was up. "Nah. I'll catch up with him later," he replied casually. "Nice to meet ya."

"Likewise," June murmured, leaning against the door to watch him stride to his bike. She could tell it was a Harley by the noise it made when 'Herman' started it, but had no idea what the make or engine size could be.

Kozik lifted a hand in a friendly farewell, which June returned. 'No reason to stop by the coffeehouse. The gash has no reason to lie. I can always stop there before goin' to the clubhouse tomorrow.' Kozik put the bike in gear and pulled sedately from the curb, feeling June's eyes boring into his back until he turned the corner.

June breathed a sigh of relief when Kozik's bike rounded the corner and roared out of sight. She turned her attention to the front door, slipping inside and grabbing Ebony before he could zip past her.

She held the squirming, protesting feline in her arms, burying her face in his fur as she shut the door. Ebony squeaked in protest at being kept from his heart's desire and leapt to the floor, tail lashing in disdain.

"Sorry, old sock. I needed a little comfort after that encounter. Somethin' tells me Alex is not gonna be happy to hear about this visitor."

Ebony snorted, a definite indication of his own displeasure. He turned and stalked to the window, leaping upon the kitty perch attached to it and proceeding to groom his whiskers.

"Good idea, cat. Think I'll go wash my own paws. That guy had 'slimeball' written all over him!"

Kozik's hand slid from the clutch as he surveyed the nearly abandoned Liberty Street business district. With the clutch disengaged, the engine died and the bike lurched forward, nearly unseating him.

He instinctively set one foot on the ground to keep from losing his balance. He gazed in dismay at the locked, boarded up store fronts. Many had the words 'closed' and 'out of business' painted on their signs. A thin layer of dust coated the windows and doors of many of the vacant businesses.

Lumpy's gym was the only operating island in the sea of vacancies. Kozik shook his head as if trying to clear it of a ringing noise. 'This has been goin' on awhile, prolly while SAMCRO was busy with LOAN. I hope the old man's a'right!'

He started the bike and rolled onto Liberty Street, turning the Harley in a slow circle so he could park at an angle to the curb. The lights were off in the front entrance to the gym, but there were still lights on in the gym itself, barely visible from the street.

The gym was already closed for the day, but that wouldn't keep Kozik from carrying out his business. He fingered the key Lumpy had given him years ago. 'I hope the old man hasn't changed the locks! Guess I'll know soon enough!'

He inserted the key in the lock, relieved to find it still worked. He slipped inside, locking the door behind him and giving his eyes time to adjust to the darkness inside.

'Nothin's changed in all these years. Everything's the same from the day I left!' he gazed at the familiar surroundings, taking in the glass display cases containing trophies and other memorabilia. He knew the layout as well as he knew his bike.

"Lumpy! Ya home?" he called as he walked through the entry into the gym. The familiar smells of sweat and leather met his nostrils. He felt safe there, as if he'd come home again.

"Who's there?" rumbled a querulous voice from the locker room.

"It's me, Kozik!" he called back, striding towards the locker room.

Lumpy raced out of the locker rooms, a towel thrown over one shoulder. A wide smile lit his wizened face. "Herman! Good to see you!"

Kozik grimaced. "You're the only one that ever calls me that!" he growled, holding out his hand as he approached the former boxer.

"Dat's your name, isn't it? Vhy should I call you anyting else?" Lumpy ignored the outstretched hand to embrace his former student in a massive bear hug. "It's gud to see you!"

"It's been too long, Lump," Kozik replied, returning the hug with equal fervor and enthusiasm.

"Yes, it has. Though I know you vere here to help SAMCRO vith that hate group," Lumpy observed, pointing his finger in Kozik's chest. "You also caused a lot of trouble vhile you vere here, but you didn't come to visit."

Kozik hung his head like a small boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar before supper. "I'm sorry, Lumpy. There wasn't a lot of time."

"Bah!" Lumpy snorted, his hands grasping Kozik's upper arms in a firm grip. "You had time to make trouble for Tig and Cat."

"You heard about that?"

"I heard. There's not much that goes on in this town that I don't hear about. Vhy did you try to attack Tig by confronting his old lady at the hospital? Vhy do you continue this ancient fight?"

"That's what I've come to talk to you about, Lumpy. I wanna come home, and don't know how to make things right."

"Come vith me, son," Lumpy laid a heavy hand on Kozik's shoulder, ushering him towards the older man's living quarters. "Ve'll have a beer and talk."

Kozik followed the gym owner to his small apartment in the back of the one story building. The apartment had a kitchenette, a living room/den area, and a bedroom. The unit was spartan in furnishings. There were a couple of arm chairs separated by a table, a desk, and a 19 inch television on a stand. One entire wall was lined with books that stood on wood planks supported by concrete blocks.

"Have a seat," Lumpy stated as he retrieved two beers from the refrigerator. "Are you hungry?"

"Nah. The beer is fine." Kozik slid into one of the armchairs, stretching his legs in front of him and relaxing.

"Maybe for you," Lumpy retorted, handing an opened bottle to Kozik. "Not for me. I'll varm up some stew. There's plenty if you change your mind."

'Good old Lumpy! Still the same gruff outside hiding a heart of gold inside!' Kozik hid a grin of amusement behind the beer bottle. "So what's happened to all the businesses? It's like a ghost town out there!"

"I'll tell you vhat I told Tig an' Bobby earlier," Lumpy replied, settling into his own chair and setting his beer on the table. Behind him, a pot of stew began to slowly warm on the stove.

Kozik listened intently as Lumpy described the rapid decline of the business district. "Each time the suit visits, he has a little more money to offer, and a little less patience to go vith it!"

"And these offers started comin' in right after Zobelle and his crew came to town," Kozik mused.

Lumpy nodded, taking a sip from his beer. "I suspect Jacob Junior has a hand in it. He's been much more attentive at the business association meetings."

"Oh, really?"

"He's been hanging around after the meetings end when they're held at Cat's coffeehouse. He knows I help her clean up afterwards."

Kozik frowned intently. "I don't see him as the type to roll up his sleeves and pitch in with the housekeepin'!"

"He doesn't help. He just hangs around and listens to vhatever Cat and I talk about!" Lumpy snorted.

"He's obviously afraid that whatever you tell her will get back to SAMCRO through Tig."

"True. The last meeting vas to discuss the funeral for David Hale. Jacob didn't hang around that night, but neither did I."

"You didn't leave her to straighten up alone in her condition?"

Lumpy glared at the biker. "You know me better than dat! Che if Unser vas dere, he acted like he vanted to talk to Cat. I decided to give him the opportunity to do so."

"Sorry, Lumpy. I spoke without thinkin'."

"You do a lot of dat," Lumpy observed dryly. "Dat's always been your problem."

"Yeah, I know," Kozik replied sheepishly. "Tig's old lady pointed that out to me. Turned out she was right."

"About the girl?" Lumpy stood up and ambled back to the kitchenette to check the stew. He stirred the contents, sending a delicious aroma wafting towards Kozik.

"Yeah. She knew all about it. Guess Tig told her the basics, and she researched the rest. Gave me quite an education," Kozik explained. "Downright dared me to do my own homework."

"Und you did, I trust. Vhy you vaited so long to accept the obvious truth is beyond me!" Lumpy retrieved two soup bowls from a cupboard and ladled generous servings into each. He carried both to the table, handing one to Kozik.

He returned to the kitchenette to gather spoons and a package of crackers, placing them on the table.

"Eat, boy. You can't live on beer!"

Kozik grabbed a spoon and dug in. He blew on the contents to cool it before shoving the spoon in his mouth.

"Gud, eh?"

"Very good," Kozik mumbled around the mouthful of stew. It was thick and hearty. Chunks of meat and veggies swam in a rich broth. "What kind of meat is that? It tastes different."

"If I tell you, don't spit it out on my floor!" Lumpy admonished. "It's deer meat. Cat received a shipment from her family in the midvest and shared it vith me."

"Bambi stew. Not bad!" Kozik took another bite. "You like her," he added after swallowing the mouthful.

"Cat is a gud voman. She's smart und she's gud for Tig. He needs to make an honest voman of her."

"Tig?" Kozik snorted with laughter. "I can't see Tig marryin' any woman! I'll agree with you about Cat bein' good for him 'cause she prolly gives him plenty of shit!"

"Vatch your language! She might be feisty, but she gives Tig plenty of respect. She's very independent and spirited and he respects dat."

"She's definitely got a temper," Kozik mused.

"Only vhen she has gud reason, Herman. You gave her a lot of reason to be angry vith you. No pun intended, but you're going to have to eat a lot of crow to get back in Tig's good graces."

Kozik sighed and set his bowl on the table. "I don't know if that's gonna be possible, Lumpy. Last time I was here, I really fuh - messed up."

"Yes you did. It's been eight years since Missy died. You both need to move on from it."

"I want to, but Tig - "

"You asked me for help, I give you help!" Lumpy interjected. "You can't try to make a man's voman leave him one day then expect him to shake your hand the next! I taught you better than dat."

Kozik hung his head for a moment. "I really wanna come home, Lumpy. The only thing that will keep me from patchin' back in to SAMCRO is a 'nay' vote from Tig."

"The way things stand now, dat sounds like a definite. Have you tried to talk to him? Maybe even apologize?"

"That's why I came down a day early. Hoped to get a chance to talk to him privately. He and his girl are runnin' an errand for Gemma."

Lumpy's eyes clouded over and he sighed wearily. "Dat's a sad ting. Gemma shouldn't be in custody, not vhen her grand baby is missing and her own health is bad. Do you know anyting on her condition?"

Kozik nodded. "She's improvin'. She had an attack of arrythmia."

"I'm glad to know she's better. If only the grand baby vould be brought home safe."

"SAMCRO has leads and are gonna get him back. They'll need manpower to protect their interests while they're gone. That's another reason I wanna be here."

"So you vent to Tig's house and found out he and Cat veren't home. Did you go to the coffeehouse for dat?" Lumpy inquired.

"Nah. Went right to the house. Some friend of Cat's was there, told me they were on an errand."

"So Tig vill find out you vere there. He von't be happy about that. Are you going back later to try to talk to him?"

Kozik shook his head, then downed the rest of his beer. "Don't think so. He won't be open to any conversation tonight."

"I don't tink dat's a good idea, Herman," Lumpy countered. "You should go back and talk vith him tonight. Tomorrow might be too late."

"I'll have to take that chance, Lump. I'll talk to him before the vote, try to convince him to agree on it. Clay said he'd make it happen, Tig'll do whatever Clay says."

"If you vere so certain of dat, you vouldn't have come down a day early to talk to him." Lumpy observed.

"You taught me to have a back up plan, old friend," Kozik replied. "It just didn't work out. I'll just have to rely on Clay."

"Are you staying in town?"

"Nah. Got a room off the interstate, other side of Oakland. Figured it was good to keep some distance between me and Tig."

Lumpy nodded in response. "I tink dat's wise. It's gud to know you are going to be here. I've missed you."

"Likewise, Lump. How long do you think you'll be able to hold out against the investors?"

"As long as I have to. If I sell, I have nothing to live for. Dis place is vhat keeps me alive."

"Do you need protection? I can check outta the hotel and stay here."

Lumpy smiled sadly. "No, son. The investors' man comes here every other week. He's already made his appearance, so I'm safe for avile."

Kozik wrote his cell number on a notepad Lumpy kept on the table. "If you need me, call - anytime."

He took his empty dish to the sink and threw the empty bottle away. Lumpy rose from his chair, grunting a bit from the effort.

"You a'right?" Kozik asked worriedly.

"You get to be my age, you see how easy it is for you to get up with making a little noise," Lumpy retorted.

Kozik embraced his mentor, giving the elderly boxer a hearty thump on the back. "I'll be seein' ya, Lump. Don't bother walkin' me out. I know the way and my key still works. I'll lock up behind me."

"Ride safe, Herman."

Kozik turned at the door to gaze fondly at the business owner. "Do me a favor?"

"Vhat's dat?"

"Don't call me Herman next time ya see me. Especially if I'm with the guys. They'll never lemme live it down!"

"I'll consider dat," Lumpy promised, grinning mischievously.

"Y'all had a visitor this evenin'," June announced when Cat and Alex returned home in the 'Black Beauty.' She'd decided to wait up for them after 'Herman' left to tell Alex of the early evening guest instead of leaving a note.

"Who was that, kittenface?" Cat inquired worriedly. The club knew they were going to Klamath Falls and back, as did her staff. No one should've come looking for them.

"He said his name was Herman," June replied.

Cat glanced questioningly at Alex, whose face clouded over with concern. "What the Hell was that fucktard doin' here?" he growled.

"Who is 'Herman'?" she countered.

"Kozik!" Alex spat.

"His first name is 'Herman'?" Cat stifled an urge to laugh. There was nothing funny about Kozik coming to visit, but she couldn't suppress a tiny smirk over his first name.

"Yeah," Alex barked. "What'd the asshat say to ya, sweetheart?" he turned his attention to June. "Don't leave out a thing."

"Not much," June shrugged. "Introduced himself, asked if y'all were here, and when y'all would be back -"

"Ya didn't tell him we were outta town!" Alex snarled protectively.

"Give me a little credit, Tarzan!" June retorted. "I might not be in the life, but I do have some sense!"

"I know that, kittenface," Cat replied soothingly. "Kozik is a member of a charter, and he's bad news."

"No shit, Sherlock!" June growled.

Cat grinned wryly. "Kozik has a burr up his butt about makin' life difficult for Alex, hon. He's caused trouble for us a few days ago. Did he say what he wanted?"

"Just that he wanted to talk to Alex. I offered to take a message, but he refused and took off like his hair was on fire and his ass was catchin'."

Alex snorted in aggravation. "And the asshat didn't say where he's stayin'! I'll hafta search every hotel in the area!"

"Why, love?"

"You should know why!"

Cat moved to Alex's side, running her hand soothingly along his arm. "He didn't do anythin' to June that merits confrontin' him tonight."

"The Hell he didn't! He came here again!" Alex snarled.

"Apparently to talk to y'all. He left as soon as he found out y'all weren't here, according to June."

"If it helps, I go the distinct impression that this Kozik character was let down that y'all weren't here," June offered.

"He didn't say anythin' else to ya, sweetheart?" Alex growled.

"Not a thing. Just asked if y'all were here, and when y'all would be back. I told him anytime, and he seemed intent on gettin' outta Dodge," June replied.

Cat gazed up at him, her good eye twinkling. "So it comes down to this, love. Do y'all really wanna check out every cheap hotel in the county tonight?"

Alex stroked his goatee, pretending to be thinking carefully over his options. "Hmmm. Ride around San Wa county lookin' for Kozik, or stay home with two gorgeous women."

"Better not make the wrong choice, Tarzan," June admonished laughingly.

"Fuck Kozik!" Alex stated decisively, striding to the refrigerator for a beer.

"No thanks!" June and Cat chorused.

"Smart asses!" he removed the cap to his beer and took a long appreciative swallow. "So what's for supper?"

Cat and June glanced at each other, then crossed their arms over their chests and glared at him.

"Excuse me?" Cat growled.

"Why? Did ya fart?" Alex grinned innocently.

"No, I'm makin' sure my ears didn't deceive me!" she retorted.

"I heard somethin' pretty rank come outta that man's mouth!" June added.

"Dunno what you two are caterwaulin' about!" he protested. "I'm starved and nothin's cookin'."

"Since I didn't know when all y'all would be back, I didn't plan a menu, just picked up take - out," June explained.

"And I've still got my left overs from dinner, which he's not gettin'!" Cat added.

"Y'all never were good at sharin'," June grinned. "I could make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!"

"Whew! That's one large samwich, kittenface! And we're short one for a true coven, think the magick would work anyway?"

June stroked her chin with one hand, gazing through fully at Alex as if considering the task.

"Would take a little work, but I think we could manage!"

"Bein' smeared in peanut butter and jelly might be fun!" he retorted. "'Specially if one - or both of ya were willin' to lick it off me!"

Cat leaned insolently against the counter, a wicked smile lit her face. "Hmmm. The idea does have a little merit." She held her thumb and forefinger apart just enough that a piece of paper could edge through. "A little on the messy side, though."

"True dat," June giggled. "The jelly's easier to wash outta sheets."

Alex gazed from his wife to her best friend, he wasn't sure if they were teasing him or were dead serious. Either way, he felt uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Enough with the jokes!"

"If y'all can't stand the heat, don't stand in the kitchen demandin' someone cook for y'all!"

"Yeah!" June snorted.

Alex took a long pull from his beer. "Shit! If you two are gonna gang up on me, I might as well start searchin' for Kozik!"

"Looks like someone's got his nose outta joint on account of losin' the battle," June lamented.

"He's a man, what the Hell do y'all expect?" Cat sighed in resignation, limping to the refrigerator and checking the contents. "Y'all have two choices, reheated chili or a meatloaf sammwich."

Alex's eyes lit up with delight. "There's meatloaf?"

"I think y'all just said the magick word, Cat," June observed.

"Meatloaf it is," Cat picked up the foil covered platter of meatloaf and carried it to the counter.

"Move it, girl. You're about to fall on your face," June countered, 'shooing' her away with both hands. "I'll fix his dratted sandwich. You sit down and heat up your leftovers!"

Cat stared at her friend, grinning with merriment.

"What the Hell are y'all grinnin' at?" June grabbed the bread out of the refrigerator and tossed it onto the counter.

"How am I gonna heat up my leftovers while sittin' down? Don't have heat vision, y'know!"

Alex grinned like the Cheshire Cat, happy to have June's attention off him for the moment.

"Still a smart - ass! Just like him!" June tossed her head at Alex, who was lounging in his chair at the table, his legs stretched out, one arm over the chair back. He was still grinning.

"Takes one to know one, and I notice you noticed right off!" Cat retorted, placing her leftovers on a plate and setting the plate in the microwave.

"Sheesh! Your rapier like wit is wearin' me out!" June pleaded, holding up one hand in the 'peace' sign. "I give!"

Cat grinned and wet her index finger, held it up and made a slashing movement. "Chalk that one up to the winner's column!"

"A'right, you two! Enough clownin'! Are ya always like this?" Alex interjected.

"That's for us to know, and you not to find out!" both women answered.

"Sorry I asked," he muttered, hiding behind his chagrin behind his beer bottle.

The microwave pinged, and Cat started to get up to retrieve her dinner. June waved at her to remain seated, grabbed a pot holder, removed the plate, and set it before her.

"Hey! I asked first!" Alex protested.

"Chivalry is definitely dead in this house, ain't it?" June retorted. "Relax, Alex. Your sandwich is about ready," she cut two thick slices of meatloaf, put them on a plate with some bread, and placed the plate in front of him. "You can doctor it up the way ya want."

June glared at Cat's full plate and empty seat. "Why in Hell are ya up?"

"I may be married to a caveman, but I refuse to eat like one!" she retorted, holding up a set of utensils.

Alex snorted back a laugh while he rummaged in the refrigerator for condiments. He doctored his sandwiches with his choices and settled into his meal.

"Don't y'all ever feed that poor boy?"

Cat nearly choked on her food. "Remember what an eating machine Bill was?"

June nodded.

"Well, this boy makes Bill look like an amateur!"

"And I can see it doesn't show on him!" June remarked dryly. "I hate that in a man!"

"Disgusting!" Cat agreed.

June slid into the chair next to her friend with a weary sigh. "How'd everything go in Oregon?"

"No worries, sweetheart. We got Gemma's shit, visited her father, and came home," Alex reported.

'No reason for her to know about the argument we had on the road.' His eyes met his wife's in silent appeal.

Cat nodded slightly, indicating she agreed. "Y'all were right, we both needed some time to ourselves. It helped. The boost to the meds oughta help my mood, too."

"Good," June nodded approvingly. "All y'all seem more relaxed."

The feline trio seemed to have a built - in radar for food preparation. They'd snuck into the kitchen and taken up positions on the floor beside Cat and Alex, staring at them with wide, beseeching eyes. Ebony decided he was tired of being ignored and poked Alex's leg with his paw.

"Ya ain't gettin' any of my meatloaf, big guy!" Alex admonished the large black feline.

Ebony's ears flattened against his head. His tail thumped the floor at the rebuke.

"I swear it seems like they really understand me!" he observed.

"I think they recognize certain tones. They definitely know when they're bein' addressed," Cat replied. "They're also good at manipulation. I know their auntie fed 'em at the regular time!"

Ming batted at her foot with a small chocolate colored paw, meowing insistently for a morsel. Little Misty just looked lovingly at her person, purring loudly in hopes of a treat.

"All right! You three just won't give up!" June sniffed, rising from her chair to retrieve a handful of kitty treats from the jar on the counter.

The trio trotted after her, surrounding her so that she was trapped between the counter and their furry presences. Misty stood up on her hind legs, batting at June's closed fist, accepting the first morsel as was her custom.

June portioned out equal amounts to the threesome. They quickly turned their backs on her to start gobbling away at their treats. Her service to them was rewarded with a chorus of purrs.

"They have both of ya wound around their tails," Alex observed. "Fortunately, I'm immune to 'em."

Cat thought of the number of times she'd witnessed him talking to the cats himself, treating them like four footed children. "Of course you are, love!" she grinned knowingly.

Having achieved their goal and getting their bellies filled, the felines scampered off to their own interests, leaving the humans to finish eating in peace.

June yawned and crossed to give Cat a good night hug. "I'm beat, and imagine you two won't be stayin' up much later, either. The coffee pot's already set up for tomorrow, chick."

"Thanks, kittenface."

Alex reached out a hand and snagged June's arm, drawing her over to him. He gave her a brief good night hug and kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the suggestion about gettin' out of here for awhile, sweetheart. Sorry ya had to deal with Kozik."

"No problem, Alex. I'm glad the first helped. As for the other, I'm sure y'all will deal with him appropriately."

"Count on it. Sleep well."

"I intend to. I have my earplugs, so don't worry about keepin' me awake," June grinned wickedly.

"Glad to hear it, not that I was gonna worry," Alex leered.

Both women rolled their eyes. "And with that, I'm outta here!" June announced. "G'nite!"

Cat grinned, waved, and returned to her meal, noting with surprise that Alex had nearly finished his two sandwiches and beer. There was still a considerable amount of her food left, but she was already feeling full.

"You're done. I can tell," Alex remarked, gathering the plates and rising from the table.

He covered her leftovers with foil, then rinsed the plates and utensils before placing them in the dishwasher.

"I'd still like to know what Kozik was up to," he growled, grabbing another beer and walking to the back door. "Wanna join me outside? I need a smoke."

Cat followed him and settled in one of the metal chairs. Alex sat in the companion chair, placing his beer on the table between them. He slouched in the chair, his legs stretched out full length in front of him. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke out with a satisfied sigh.

"I've been thinkin' about that since June brought it up, just wasn't gonna say anything in front of her."

"Appreciate that, baby. What'd ya come up with?"

"He made noises at Kip's wake about patchin' back in. He also knows y'all can keep that from happenin'. I figure he wanted to try to bury the hatchet before the vote."

Alex mulled over that for a moment, it made sense, but it didn't feel right. "That doesn't sound like him."

"I know. But if y'all walk in his boots for a minute, it makes sense. Doesn't it require a unanimous vote to accept a transfer?"

'Damn! I should be used to this by now, but she still manages to surprise me with her knowledge of the life!' The glow from the lit cigarette moved up and down with his nod. "Yeah, kinda like a jury vote. His comin' here to talk was a big waste of his time."

"I agree," she murmured around a yawn.

"Been a long day, hasn't it, baby?"

"Just a bit," she acknowledged. "Mind if I leave ya with your own company? I'm gonna get ready for bed."

Alex snuffed out the cigarette and drained the rest of his beer. "Ya just said the 'magic word', baby!"

She rolled her eyes. "You, mister, have a one track mind!"

He held the back door open for her, keeping a watch out for Ebony. "Ya wouldn't want me any other way!"

Lumpy waited until he heard the distinct Harley engine fade into the distance. Assured that Kozik wasn't going to try to sneak back to check on him, Lumpy picked up his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Cat speakin'."

"It's Lumpy, Cat. How are you?"

"Tired and hurtin' a little, thanks for askin'. You doin' all right?" her voice reflected her concern for him.

"Ah, Tig told you about the investors."

Cat sighed into the phone. "No. You just did. He said your gym is the only business left open on Liberty Street. It explained why that contingent has grown so thin at the meetin's."

"Smart girl," Lumpy replied approvingly. "I have some news for Tig."

"Hang on, Lumpy. I'll take the cordless to him."

She put the phone on mute and carried it into the bathroom where Alex was sitting in the whirlpool. She'd convinced him to take a soak to relax his muscles from the long drive. She shut off the whirlpool motor and handed the phone to him.

"It's Lumpy. He's safe," she assured him. "He says he has news for y'all."

Alex accepted the phone from her and unmuted the speaker. "Lumpy. What's up?"

Cat leaned one hip against the door frame. She could hear Lumpy over the handset, even though Alex didn't have the speaker phone portion on.

"Herman just left. He vants to talk to you - to make amends for the past."

Cat hid a snicker behind her hand. No matter how many times she heard it, she couldn't associate the name 'Herman' with Kozik.

Alex grimaced. "I know ya love Kozik as if he were your son - "

"I love both of you!" Lumpy interjected. "You two have been the sons I never had. It hurts me that you have been at odds all these years."

"And you think I should let him off the hook? That's a lot to ask, Lumpy," Alex replied coldly. "Do I have to remind ya about the shit he pulled the last time he was here?"

"No. I know all about it. Vhy don't you try to be the bigger man and consider forgiving him?"

"I have considered it, Lumpy. It doesn't feel right."

Alex protested.

"Give it some more thought," he suggested.

"How much more time can I spend on it? That's all I've been thinkin' about today!"

"You expect me to believe that?" Lumpy's grin was evident in his voice. "I know better! There's no vay you vere thinking of Herman vhen you had that beautiful lady vith you!"

Cat flushed at Lumpy's compliment. She felt many things at that moment, beautiful wasn't one of them.

Alex waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. "True, dat."

"I suspect your mind is already made up," Lumpy observed, regret evident in his voice.

Alex closed his eyes against the inner pain he felt. He loved the former boxer like a father. 'Hell, I love him better than my old man! I hate hurtin' him, but I'm not gonna lie to him.' He took a deep breath and replied, "'Fraid so, Lump."

"I vas afraid of dat, but dere's no harm in asking. Just think on it a little more. Can you do that for me?"

"A'right," Alex agreed reluctantly. "But I'm not makin' promises I can't keep."

"Gud. Say goodnight to your voman, Tig."

"Say goodnight to her yourself, old man!" Alex handed the handset to her and relaxed in the still heated water.

Cat accepted the phone and retreated to the bedroom to talk with Lumpy. She closed the bathroom door behind her so Alex could turn the whirlpool back on.

"Are y'all gonna be OK out there? You know Tig would come get you to stay with us."

"I know. It's not necessary. I'll be fine, Cat." He sighed tiredly. "Sometimes talking to Tig about Kozik is like talking to a brick wall. But I had to try."

"I know. So does Tig. We're not mad at y'all, if that's what you're worried about. How about we plan to have Sabbath dinner next weekend? It's been awhile since you came to visit."

"I don't vant to put you to any trouble." Lumpy protested.

"So I get out the kosher crockery! It's not like I haven't done it before!"

"But not with injuries!" he countered.

"Bah!" she scoffed. "What's a few bumps, bruises, and bandages? You're comin' to Sabbath, and that's final!"

"I'd like that," Lumpy replied. "For a goy, you make a good Jewish voman."

"Y'all don't have to be Jewish to be Jewish -"

"But it helps!" he laughingly completed the old Dave Berg line for her. "Thank you, Cat," he added meaningfully.

"Sweet dreams, Lumpy." She returned the phone to the charger and crawled under the covers. She lay waiting for sleep while staring at the ceiling and thinking.

'Should've realized Lumpy would try to make peace between those two. It has to hurt him to be caught in the middle. I doubt this is the last Alex is gonna hear about this."

The pain pill and her regular medications were making her drowsy, but she was still alert enough to hear Alex stirring around in the bathroom. The door opened to reveal him standing in his manly glory, his skin a rosy color from the whirlpool bath's heat.

"Hey, ya ain't asleep yet, are ya?" he called softly.

"Nope. Just tryin' to get there. What's up, besides the obvious?" she gazed at his groin and grinned at the sight of his cock waving invitingly at her.

"Need to have ya change the bandage, baby. It's soaked. It's awkward to change it on my own," he explained.

"Go sit on the edge of the whirlpool," she replied as she sat up.

"I'd rather sit on the bed!"

She shook her head and slid out from under the covers. "Too much temptation for y'all to get playful."

"Ah, damn!" He pouted like a child. "Ya take away all my fun!"

She took him by the hand and led him to the tub. When he didn't sit down right away, she laid her hand on his uninjured shoulder and pushed him down onto the edge of the whirlpool. "The light's much better in here, and when I get done with y'all, you can return the favor."

Alex eyebrows knitted in confusion. "But I already patched your eye, baby!"

"Not talkin' about that, love. Thought I mentioned it earlier."

"Mentioned what?" his brows furrowed worriedly.

"The incision when my lung collapsed is a little infected," she explained. "It got irritated by the binder."

"And you're just now tellin' me this?" Alex snarled. 'Damn Kozik! If he'd left her alone, she wouldn't have gotten the collapsed lung and this damn infection!'

"Sorry, love. It's been a long day. It's nothin' major. Dr. Gallagher noticed it when he was checkin' my injuries. He treated it with an antibiotic cream and put a fresh dressin' on it," she explained sheepishly, gathering the first aid supplies she would need to doctor Alex's wound.

He reached out to grab her arm, gently bringing her over to him. "Forget that shit for a minute. Lemme see how bad it is!" He lifted the gown over her head and tossed it to the floor, then unwrapped the binder.

"Y'all just wanted an excuse to get me nekkid," she joked. "Dr. Gallagher wasn't worried about it, no need for y'all to be."

"I don't give a shit! Lemme see!" he growled, moving her so that her injured side was turned to him. He winced inwardly at the gauze pad taped to her side. It was roughed up from the friction of the binder.

"If ya hadn't left that fuckin' binder on earlier, I would've seen this and been a little easier on ya!" he complained.

"Y'all didn't hurt me, love, if that's botherin' y'all!" she assured him, turning away to retrieve the supplies she needed.

Alex's legs tightened around her thighs, holding her prisoner between them. "Ya aren't goin' anywhere until I take care of this!"

"Frackin' Neanderthal!" she griped.

"Flattery will get ya nowhere, baby! For once, just let me take care of you first!"

She glared at him, but her annoyance melted at the naked entreaty and worry in his eyes. She nodded reluctant agreement and raised her arm to give him better access.

"Thanks, baby," he whispered, gently removing the tape and the gauze. He looked intently at the wound and whistled soundlessly. 'I'm no doctor, but I don't like the looks of that!' The skin around the wound was red and hot.

"It doesn't feel as bad as it looks, honey," she assured him.

"Bullshit!" he snarled.

"Take it easy, Alex," she admonished, passing the prescription cream and a wooden applicator to him.

He accepted the items from her and laid them on the tub next to him. "I'm sorry, Cat. I can't stand to see you injured like this."

She laid her hand against his cheek. "I know, love. It's not your fault."

He turned his head so that his lips brushed her palm. The move sent little electric pulses through her. "Yes, it is. Westin came after ya because of me. So did Kozik."

She vehemently shook her head. "No, honey. Westin came after me because I publicly denounced LOAN and turned the town against 'em."

Alex tried to ignore the way her breasts moved when she shook her head. The moment was too important to let his sexual urges run a muck. "Ya might be right about Westin, but ya can't explain Kozik away as easily."

She sighed wearily. "No, I can't. We both know he wanted to use me to hurt y'all. He didn't succeed. So enough with that kinda talk. It hurts me more than the injuries."

"Hand me one of those antiseptic pads," he ordered gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. "Damn thing won't heal if ya keep puttin' new shit on the old."

She passed over the antiseptic pad, encased in a sterile foil container. He ripped it open with his teeth and tenderly wiped the inflamed area.

"Shit! That's cold!" she flinched away from his hand.

"Hold still!" he growled. "I don't wanna hurt ya!"

"It's damn cold!" she protested again.

"Deal with it! If I can handle it, so can you!" His legs tightened to hold her still while he thoroughly cleaned the wound.

"Y'all just wanted an excuse to get me in a compromisin' position!"

"Baby, I don't need an excuse!" he retorted, dabbing fresh ointment on the infected area. He placed a sterile gauze pad on the area, then taped it in place.

"There! Now ya get to do me." He opened his legs just enough to release her from the embrace.

"Why does everything that comes outta your mouth always seem to be a double entrendre?"

He shrugged innocently. "Not my fault ya have a dirty mind!"

"Hmpf!" She removed the bandage from his shoulder and inspected the wound. Unlike her incision, the skin around Alex's wound was a healthy shade of pink and cool to the touch.

"Tara does good work," she observed, cleaning the area with a fresh antiseptic pad. "It's healin' well. Does it still hurt?"

"A little," he admitted with a shrug. He immediately regretted the move. A fresh bolt of pain raced through his body.

"So I see," she murmured, applying the antibiotic cream Tara had supplied, then covering the area with a fresh bandage and tape. "All done!"

"That's what you think, woman!" he leered, lifting her onto his lap. "There's a little somethin' else of mine that needs tendin' to!"

She felt his erection against her rear and grinned at him. "I wouldn't call that little, my love!"

Kozik toyed with the idea of returning to Cat and Tig's house after he left Lumpy's. He thought it likely they'd finished whatever errand they were running for Gemma.

'Nah, not a good idea. Tig won't be in very welcomin' once that gash tells him I turned up unannounced. Surprised he's not already out lookin' for me!' Kozik mused, piloting his bike out of Charming. 'Best to wait until tomorrow and try talkin' to him before the vote.'

He unlocked the door to his hotel and flipped the light switch next to the door, bathing the room in light. He laid his helmet on the table and threw his jacket next to it.

The door slid shut behind him, and he locked all the locks out of habit. He crossed to the bed and sank dejectedly onto the mattress.

'It was good to see Lumpy again, though I don't like hearin' that someone's tryin' to force him to sell the business. I'm gonna keep an eye on him as long as I'm in town.'

Kozik laced his hands behind his head and gazed at the ceiling. 'Lumpy's right. Eight years is a Hell of a long time for this thing to fester. Prospectin' SAMCRO was one of the highlights of my life, even though Tig made my prospect year Hell because I blamed him for my best friend's death.'

The ceiling tiles above his head drifted out of focus as his eyelids grew heavy. He battled the need to close his eyes and lost.

Kozik sat in a corner of SAMCRO's chapel, trying hard not to let on that he was nervous about the upcoming vote. The fully patched members of SAMCRO sat around the table in front of him. Clay was at the head of the table, Tig to his right as Sergeant at Arms.

Clay banged the gavel on the wooden disc just to his right, calling church to order. "This is the last day of Kozik's prospect year. You know why we're here, so we might as well put the man outta his misery. I vote yay."

Kozik felt an invisible hand squeeze his gut. The SAA held the prospect's future in his hands and figuratively had Kozik by the short hairs. Tig's expression gave no indication towards his vote. His face seemed carved from granite, his eyes were were hard as ice.

'C'mon, Tig! I've earned this!' Kozik thought, his eyes unflinchingly meeting Tig's. He sat up straight, his body tense with anticipation that the SAA would vote against him.

'I should vote no, just because!' Tig mused. He knew how badly Kozik wanted to become a fully patched member. 'It's not easy to forget how he said I killed my pregnant girlfriend! A real friend would have been supportive. I loved her, too!'

Tig enjoyed making Kozik miserable through the past year, giving the prospect all the dirtiest possible jobs, hoping to make his former friend quit. 'Havin' him through a punch at me would've been even better; he'd have been banished in a heartbeat!'

Kozik refused to retaliate against Tig's constant needling, performing every assignment without complaint. He endured the SAA's nit picking gracefully. He never raised his voice or a hand against his tormentor.

Tig fought against a growing sense of respect for his one - time friend as the prospect year progressed. He didn't want to respect Kozik, the pain of his betrayal hurt as much as ever. Tig escalated the taunts and crap assignments to a fever pitch.

Before the vote, Clay laid it on the line to Tig that SAMCRO needed Kozik at the table. That didn't prevent Tig from wanting to make the prospect squirm while waiting for him to cast his vote.

Clay glared stonily at his friend and SAA. 'Don't make me remind ya that we can't lose Kozik! The surviving 'First 9' are gettin' long in the tooth to be useful and a lot of our members are incarcerated! We've got to turn this club around and addin' Kozik will be a good start!'

As far as Clay was concerned, Kozik had more than proved his worth. The silence grew uncomfortable in the chapel. To his credit, Kozik didn't fidget or break a sweat. The same couldn't be said for some of the other members.

"Yeah," Tig snarled reluctantly.

Kozik relaxed, allowing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding out in a loud sigh of relief. Tig continued to glare stonily at his former friend. The remainder of the vote was over in a matter of seconds, but Kozik didn't hear the chorus of affirmative votes.

Clay banged the gavel as soon as the last 'yay' was cast, signifying the vote was final. Kozik was now a fully patched member.

Bobby Elvis was the first to congratulate Kozik, handing over the coveted 'Redwood' and 'Original' patches, along with the Reaper and SAMCRO rockers. "Don't lose these, brother!"

Kozik gathered the patches to his chest with both hands. "I won't!" he promised fervently.

The other fully patched members pulled him from his chair and out of the chapel towards the bar. A croweater was already pouring drinks.

"Keep 'em comin', darlin'!" Piney called to the Croweater, tossing back a shot and holding out the empty glass for a refill.

The Croweater slid the full bottle of tequila down the bar to Piney. "Fill it yourself, old man! The way you drink, The Flash wouldn't be able to keep up!"

The men laughed at her retort, many nodding in agreement. Piney's reputation as a drinker was well known. He could drink like a fish yet maintain a steady gun hand. The men pounded Kozik on the back, then hefted their glasses in a toast.

Tig remained seated in his chair at the table, glowering at the celebration outside the door. His thoughts were as black as his cut.

"I know this wasn't easy for ya, Tig," Clay murmured.

"No shit, brother!" Tig growled. "If I'd have had a choice - "

"I know!" Clay interjected. "Look, you rode Kozik harder than any prospect since ya patched in. He earned that rocker. Go easy on him from now on."

Tig glared at his president and friend. "You're kiddin', right?"

"Have ya ever known me to joke around?" Clay growled. "The man's gonna be an asset to his. His presence will attract more young blood to the herd."

Tig grunted, displaying his obvious disagreement.

"Ya gonna sit there and pout all day, or ya gonna come out and celebrate with us?"

"I got work waitin' on me," Tig replied sourly. "Somebody's gotta do some work around here!" He pushed his chair away from the table and stalked out of the chapel. The group at the bar suddenly turned silent as he stormed past them to the clubhouse door without a word to any of his brothers.

"Wow! Who pissed in his Cheerios?" Bobby whistled after the door slammed behind Tig.

"Nobody," Kozik replied. "He doesn't eat Cheerios."

The men returned to their celebration. Clay joined the group, appearing content on the outside. He was concerned over his friend's obvious snub.

"They'll have to work it out themselves," Gemma advised him later. "Kozik's patched. There's nothin' Tig can do about it now."

"He'll be watchin' the poor guy like a hawk," Clay observed.

"Good. It'll keep the kid outta mischief," Gemma retorted.

Both Clay's and Gemma's premonitions turned out to be accurate. Tig did keep a watchful eye on Kozik during the months that followed the vote. Kozik had a talent for working out logistics for the gun smuggling operation, becoming the go - to man for SAMBEL, SAMCRO, and the charters. He would determine the best routes to use to deliver the guns, as well as the best way to get them into the States from Ireland. Under his guidance, the operation thrived.

The improved gun smuggling operation led Tig to a tenuous peace treaty with Kozik. The spectre of Kozik's unfortunate accusations still haunted their relationship, but they had ceased hissing at each other like two wildcats disputing territorial boundaries.

The truce lasted quite awhile, until Missy entered Tig's life. He and Kozik were returning from a gun run, and had stopped to fill their gas tanks at a country store. Kozik preferred the smaller gas stations as opposed to larger truck stops and national chains when groups of two or three were ran the hardware as there were plenty of such places on the state roads he had the club use.

Tig had gone around the back of the building to take a private piss. He heard a whine behind him as he zipped his jeans to find a small German Shepherd puppy sitting behind him. Her coat was bedraggled and matted and she was very skinny.

"Hey, girl," he whispered, slowly dropping into a squat and holding one hand to the shaking pup.

She answered with another whine and flattened her ears, though she didn't growl at him. He held out his hand to the dog, crooning assurances to her. Slowly, the pup inched forward, watching him for any sudden dangerous movements.

Tig remained still and continued to croon reassuringly, "C'mon Missy, I'm not gonna hurt ya."

The pup wagged her tail at him, inching forward a little more certainly. Her nose quivered as she sniffed his hand, taking in the smell of tobacco and gasoline. Her head butted against his hand, a clear invitation to be petted.

Tig complied with the dog's request, gently patting the pup on the head. "That's a good girl! See? I'm your friend!" he crooned again. The dog licked his fingers then fell to the ground, rolling over onto her back to expose her belly.

"Ya wanna belly rub, girl?" Tig grinned, rubbing the pup's belly and watching her tail thump the ground in ecstasy. "Good girl, Missy!"

The pup barked with joy, nuzzling her head against his hand.

"Ya like that, don't ya, Missy?"

The pup barked affirmatively.

"Missy. That fits ya."

The pup barked again, her tail thumping the ground as she leapt up to lick Tig's chin.

He laughed outright, gathering the squirming pup in his arms. He was appalled at how light she felt. "You need a home, Missy. I'm givin' ya one."

Kozik burst around the side of the building, fearing Tig might've been jumped by a rival gang. He stopped short at the sight of Tig holding the scrawny pup in his arms.

"Shit! I thought the Mayans had got ya!"

"No such luck, pal!" Tig growled, cuddling the puppy protectively in his arms.

Kozik reached out and ruffled the dog's ears, earning a scowl from Tig and a lick on his hand from the dog.

"She's cuter than some of your girls," Kozik grunted.

"Lot cuter than you!" Tig retorted. "I'm takin' her home with me."

"Are ya kiddin'? She'll head for the hills the minute ya start that Dyna!"

Tig shook vehemently shook his head. "Nah. She trusts me. She'll not run from me, will ya, Missy?"

The pup licked his cheek as if in agreement. He opened his cut and vest, creating a leather cradle for the animal. Missy crawled between his jacket and shirt, laying quietly as he zipped her securely inside.

"Ya look pregnant, man!" Kozik laughed.

Tig ignored the other man's taunt, striding confidently to his Dyna. "You're gonna hear a loud roar, Missy. It's nothin' to be afraid of. I'm takin' ya home with me where you'll always be safe."

The pup wagged its' tail against his side.

"She understands what I'm sayin' to her!" Tig smirked, straddling the Harley and strapping his helmet in place. He petted the dog reassuringly, then started the engine.

The pup lay quietly against his chest. Only a slight quivering in her body betrayed her fear of the loud noise. Tig reached inside his jacket and petted her head. "Good girl, Missy! I knew you'd be brave!" He doubted the dog could hear him over the bike's loud roar, but believed she could sense his approval. He nodded at Kozik and they headed away from the gas station.

Missy lay passively against his body during the entire ride back to Charming. She stopped shaking and fell asleep.

'Poor thing looks like she hasn't had a decent meal for a few days. Don't feel any fleas crawlin' on me, so she's only recently abandoned.' Tig felt a rush of anger against the pup's former owners. 'She's mine, now! Nobody's gonna hurt her again!'

As soon as the bikes were parked at the compound, Tig rushed to his apartment over the garage, he didn't notice that Kozik had taken off in the van. His main thought was to get the pup cleaned up and fed before Clay saw her. There was no rule against pets in the club apartments, but there wasn't one inviting them either.

"We'll get ya all fixed up, Missy, so Clay can't possibly turn ya away!" He opened a can of beef stew and dumped the unheated concoction into a bowl, sitting it on the floor in front of the pup. She sniffed curiously at the food, then started wolfing it down.

Tig grinned and shrugged out of his cut and jacket, tossing them into a nearby chair. He grabbed a beer from the small refrigerator and took a healthy swig.

"Don't eat too fast, Missy. No one's gonna take it away from ya! Eat too fast you'll make yourself sick," he admonished.

The pup looked up at him, her brown eyes full of adoration. She licked her jaws, pink tongue swirling over white teeth, then dropped her head back into the bowl. She ate less greedily, sensing she had security from Tig's presence.

A slight rap at the door startled the pup, sending her skittering into the bathroom. Kozik's head appeared in the open door. "How's she doin'?"

"She was fine until ya showed yer ugly face in here!" Tig snarled. "She hidin' in the bathroom!"

Kozik slipped inside and closed the door behind him, holding full plastic bags in each hand. "I went to the grocery, picked up some stuff for her. Got some dog shampoo, a brush, a chew toy, all kinds of shit." He glanced at the nearly empty bowl and grinned. "What'd ya feed her?"

"Canned beef stew."

Kozik tossed the bag on the bed. "After eatin' that shit, she'll think the dog food is prime rib!"

"Very funny!" Tig growled. "What do I owe ya?"

"Nada."

"I ain't sharin' her with ya!" Tig's eyes narrowed fiercely. "She ain't no sweetbutt!"

Kozik grinned sardonically and sat on the end of the bed. "There's no way you're gonna be able to keep her to yourself, Tig. All the guys are gonna fall in love with her the minute they see her."

"Tough shit! I found her; she came to me!"

Kozik held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I know, man. You've already bonded with her. There's no doubt she's gonna be your dog, but ya can't ignore the fact that the rest of the guys are gonna fall for her." He gazed past Tig and added softly, "I know I have."

Tig glared at Kozik, then turned to gaze lovingly at Missy. The pup was peeking past the door frame at them. Her eyes were bright and showed no fear. She stepped out into the room, tail wagging happily as she ran to Kozik and leaped into his arms.

"Guess that proves my point, Tig. She likes me!"

"Wait 'til she gets to know ya better," he retorted with a grin.

"C'mon, Tigger. Let's give our girl a bath." Kozik stood up, still holding the pup, and carried her into the bathroom.

"Don't recall givin' ya any share in her ownership," he growled, grabbing the bottle of shampoo and following Kozik into the small bathroom.

Kozik had put the puppy on the floor and started the hot and cold water running into the tub. Tig absently petted Missy, then opened the bottle and poured a dollop of the shampoo into the tub.

"What the Hell are ya doin'?" Kozik yelped.

"All girls like bubble baths," Tig replied. "That includes you, right, Missy?"

The dog was standing between them and barked happily, her tail beating a tattoo against their legs. Tig picked her up and cuddled her against his chest. "You ready to get wet, baby?"

Missy licked his cheek and chin as he lowered her into the warm water. She stood patiently, allowing Tig and Kozik to lather her all over. They worked the shampoo into her fur, gently pulling the matted clusters apart.

"Good girl," Tig crooned approvingly. "I know it hurts, baby. You'll feel better soon."

"Look how skinny she is!" Kozik growled. Her ribs stood out under her wet fur. She was nothing but skin and bones.

"She won't stay that way for long, will ya, baby?" Tig assured him, running clear water over the dog's fur.

Missy gazed from Tig to Kozik, then shook the water from her fur, thoroughly drenching them. The men laughed while water dripped off their hair and clothes. Missy's tongue hung out of her open mouth, making it look as if she were laughing with them.

Tig grabbed a towel and started rubbing Missy's body dry. Kozik worked on her head. Before long, the dog was clean and dry, leaving the men wet and satisfied at a job well done.

"Go on and finish your food, girl," Kozik urged the pup, nudging her with his hand towards the outer room.

Missy ran to her bowl and resumed her interrupted meal. She was more restrained in her eating behavior, confident that no one would take it from her.

Tig and Kozik cleaned up the small bathroom and dried their hair. By the time they were finished, Missy had licked the bowl clean, then curled up on the rug beside Tig's bed.

"She was obviously someone's pet. She responds well to vocal commands," Kozik observed, leaning against the door frame.

"Yeah. Means less work trainin' her," Tig agreed, shrugging out of his drenched shirt and throwing it onto the pile of soggy towels.

"I'm gonna go clean up," Kozik announced. "Catch ya later." He strode to the door and opened it.

Missy lifted her head from her paws, gazing at the departing man's back. Tig steeled himself to hear the pup whine over Kozik's departure. Instead, she put her head back on her paws and closed her eyes.

"Hey, Koz!" Tig called.

The use of the old nickname caught Kozik by surprise. 'Tig hasn't called me that in years!' He turned around, his expression quizzical. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Kozik nodded and stepped into the hallway, closing the door after him. He stood for a moment in front of the door, then went to his own room to change.

As Kozik had expected, the entire club fell for Missy as soon as they saw her. She displayed a gentle disposition to them once she knew they wouldn't hurt her. She got to the point where she would demand attention and treats from each member whenever she saw them.

"Damn dog's gonna be spoiled if this keeps up!" Tig growled. "Wish she'd been meaner when she was introduced to the guys!"

"You never were good at sharin' stuff, Tig," Kozik reminded him. "Besides, no matter how much the other guys do for her, everyone knows you're her 'daddy'."

Missy was content to lie in a corner of his bay while he worked. She's put her chin on her paws and watch him, waiting for a word or a pat on the head. She would follow him about the compound, and acted as a guard to Gemma when the club was away or on a run.

It only took one night for Tig to convince her that it was OK to sleep on the bed with him, unless he had a visitor. Then she was content to sleep on the rug next to the bed. Any woman who complained about Missy's presence wasn't invited to Tig's room for a return visit.

Missy was the glue that repaired Tig and Kozik's broken relationship. They began spending more time together like they had in the past, often riding off to fish or hunt on weekends. Missy would always go with them, tucked inside Tig's jacket until she grew too large.

Tig then taught her how to maintain her balance on a moving bike so that she could lay in a specially made carrier. The carrier strapped to the gas tank and enabled her to ride with Tig's arms securely surrounding her on both sides.

The old friendship between the two men grew in strength due to Missy's presence. Kozik loved the dog just as much as Tig. He would take care of her whenever Tig had to leave on club business. Missy was always affectionate with Kozik, but the minute Tig returned, she had eyes only for him.

One bright, sunny afternoon, Clay asked Tig to take the van to pick up a shipment of auto and brake parts for the garage. Tig started to whistle for Missy to come with him, but Clay disallowed it.

"Leave the pooch here. Last time ya took her there to get parts, she threatened to bite the employees."

"They wouldn't have gotten upset if they'd have left her alone. Fuckers were tormentin' her, so she warned 'em off!" Tig protested.

"Yeah, at least she warns people before she bites 'em, unlike some people I know!" Clay grinned. "Unfortunately, Missy's not welcome there. Sorry Tig."

Tig threw up his hands and stalked to the van without Missy. She had slept through the conversation, curled up in a ball on her pallet in Tig's bay. He strode past Kozik and mumbled a terse, "Keep an eye on her, Koz. Gotta make a run for parts."

"Sure thing."

Tig was in a foul mood when he got to the warehouse. He glared angrily at the employees there. He was itching for a fight with any of them, and hoped someone would say or do the wrong thing to give him an excuse to lash out.

His temper was further tested when the computer suffered a suspiciously 'convenient' crash. "Sorry, Trager. We can't release anything until we can process the order in the computer. Important to keep proper inventory, y'know," the warehouse manager grinned maliciously.

"How long's it gonna take to get runnin' again?"

The manger shrugged. "Hard to tell. Could be a few minutes, could take an hour or so. You could always go back to Teller - Morrow and come back later."

'If we didn't need some of those parts today, I'd be outta here like a shot.' Tig glared menacingly at the manager, then settled down in a nearby chair, crossing an ankle over his knee. "I'll wait."

The manager kept Tig waiting two hours, then the manager miraculously discovered the cause of the computer problem.

"Well, I'll be damned!" The manager chortled innocently.

"What now?" Tig groaned.

"The computer didn't crash after all. The power cord was loose in the back! No power, no 'puter! It's working just fine - now!"

Tig rolled his eyes to the Heavens and bit back a sarcastic response. He knew it would do no good to antagonize the man any further. "Can I get the order now?" he asked plaintively.

"Of course! It's being picked and packed as we speak! Just bring your van around to the loading dock, we'll have you out of here in a jiffy!"

Tig stalked from the waiting area to the van, thinking over various means of retribution and discarding each one as not good enough. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Yeah!" he snapped.

"What's takin' so long? Ya havin' to go to China to get the parts?" Clay barked.

"Those assholes staged a computer glitch, kept me waitin'. Next time, send a prospect after the parts. I'm not runnin' after 'em anymore!" Tig snarled, snapping the cell closed and shoving it back in his pocket.

The workmen quickly loaded the garage's order into the van, nearly tripping over themselves to get rid of Tig's scowling features. In a matter of moments, the order was loaded and Tig was on his way back to the garage.

By the time Tig returned to the compound, the setting sun was shone directly into the van, nearly blinding him. Though the windshield was tinted, and Tig had his shades over his eyes, the glare from the sun's angle still made seeing a difficult venture.

He piloted the van at a slower rate of speed out of consideration for the glare. One never knew when someone might dart across the lot without looking first. The last thing he wanted to do was hit a person, a car, or someone's bike.

His eyes moved from one side of the lot to the other. He caught a glimpse of Kozik and Missy playing catch near the repo lot.

'What the fuck is Koz thinkin'? We never let Missy play so close to the garage. Too easy for her to get hurt!'

Tig tapped the van's horn to get Kozik's attention, intending to signal to him to take Missy to a safer area. The horn startled Kozik, causing him to drop the ball he was holding. It rolled ominously toward the van. Missy barked happily and started running after it.

"Missy NO!" Kozik yelled. He grabbed for her collar, hoping to catch her before she could pass him. The collar broke free from around her neck.

Tig's foot hit the brake pedal the moment he saw the ball leave Kozik's hand. In an instant, he heard a sickening thud at the front of the van. One wheel lurched over something before the van stopped. Tig heard a pain filled yelping noise, then silence, save for the engine.

He slammed the gear into 'park' and leapt from the van, praying that he hadn't just hit Missy. His face went white as he gazed at the crumpled form of his beloved girl laying between the front and rear wheels of the van, her rear end stuck out from the driver's side.

Tig fell to his knees beside Missy's back paws, "No, no, no, no, no!" he cried, tears of denial streamed down his face as he gently pulled the dog out from under the van.

He immediately knew that Missy was dead. The van's wheel had crushed her ribcage. Blood oozed from her open mouth, coating her tongue that poked out of her open mouth. Her eyes were wide open, but as dead as twin brown marbles.

Kozik came running across the compound, tears pouring from his eyes. He stopped directly behind Tig, clenching his fists at his sides. "Tig, man, I tried to stop her - "

"The Hell you did!" Tig screamed, jumping to his feet and whirling to confront his friend. 'I swear to God, Trager, I won't rest until you pay for this! And when you do, I'll enjoy makin' you hurt!' The hurtful words Kozik had flung at him years earlier as they walked from the girl's grave hit him full force,

Tig's eyes narrowed into slits at the memory. He growled in his throat as he leapt at Kozik, tackling him like a linebacker going for a quarterback sack. Kozik fell to the ground, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. Tig straddled the man's chest, throwing punches with both hands to at Kozik's face.

"You son of a bitch!" he cried hoarsely. "You did that on purpose!" Each word was punctuated with a punch to Kozik's bewildered face. "I thought you loved her!"

Kozik held his hands defensively before his face. Blood mixed with the tears as he cried out, "I do love her!"

"Liar!" Tig screamed, landing another blow past Kozik's defensive gesture. "I heard you tell her to 'go'!"

Clay, Piney, and Happy heard all the commotion and ran to the scene from the clubhouse. It took the combined efforts of all three to pull Tig away from Kozik. Tig fought them like a mad man, attempting to break their hold and mete out more punishment.

Opie and Jax followed after the trio and helped Kozik stand up. Both young men were sickened at the sight of the dog's mutilated, crumpled body. Once his feet were steady enough to support him, Kozik shrugged off their help and glared at Tig.

"It was a fuckin' accident, man! I yelled, 'NO!' to her."

"The Hell you did!" Tig snarled, straining to get away from his brothers. "I saw you toss the ball directly at the van! You knew she'd chase after it!"

"If you saw the ball comin', ya should've stopped!"

"I was goin' slow, you asshole! The sun was in my eyes, made it hard to see!"

"Yeah, so I notice! Ya saw what ya want to see, not what really happened! That fuckin' horn startled me, the ball slipped from my hand and Missy chased it." Kozik retorted. He was just as upset as Tig that Missy was dead. He couldn't understand why he was getting blamed. He held up the collar and added, "Look! The safety collar broke off in my hand! Otherwise she'd still be alive!"

"Ya prolly cut the damn collar earlier! I thought you'd changed your mind about me. Should've known you were waitin' for the right time to get back at me for the girl!" Tig roared and made another attempt to escape.

Clay, Piney, and Happy held on grimly, forcing Tig to his knees. They surrounded him, forming a human wall between their stricken SAA and Kozik.

Tig crawled to Missy's still warm body, crouching protectively over her while his own body shook with sobs.

"Clay, are ya gonna stand still for this?" Kozik cried, glaring beseechingly at the club president.

"Shut the fuck up, Kozik!" Clay roared. He glared at Opie and Jax. "Get him the fuck outta here. Then find somethin' to cover her up before some customer comes in and sees it!"

Opie and Jax grabbed Kozik by the arms, nearly frog - marching him to the apartments. Tig remained crouched over Missy's body, crooning "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" over and over.

Happy and Piney glanced at each other, then Piney lumbered into the garage, returning with a relatively clean rug the employees often used to lie on when working under a car.

"Here, Tig," he growled softly, placing a heavy paw on the SAA's quivering shoulder. "Let's wrap her up in this and take her someplace nice for burial."

"Go 'way! I'll do it myself!" he groaned, raising one hand behind him to take the rug from Piney.

"Are ya sure ya can do this?" Clay asked.

Tig glared up at him, tears glistening in his eyes, making them look like blue ice. "I'm a'right. She's my girl." He stretched the rug out on the ground in front of him, then tenderly lifted Missy's body onto the fabric, covering her body with the ends.

Jax and Opie stood next to the other men. They all felt bad about losing Missy, and wanted to say something supportive. No one knew the right words to say, so they didn't speak.

Tig lifted the rug covered body of his beloved pet in his arms, cradling her next to his chest. "I'm takin' her on my bike. It'll be our last ride together," he announced. "When I get back, either that murderin' asshole is gone, or I transfer. I'm not sharin' a patch with anyone I can't trust."

Clay stared in surprise at his friend. 'He's really takin' this hard. Tig's too valuable to lose. I'll have to arrange a transfer for Kozik.' He shook his head, then raised his hands in resignation. "A'right. I'll handle it right now. I promise."

Tig turned and trudged to his Dyna. He placed Missy's body in the carrier, then disappeared into the garage, returning with a set of straps. He quietly secured Missy to the gas tank, then mounted his bike, started it, and pulled slowly away from the compound.