Author's Note: This is the second story in what I hope with be a three part series. This story is about 3 years prior to the first season. I hope you guys enjoy this.
Disclaimer-I don't own or even pretend to own Sons of Anarchy or any of it's characters. They belong to Kurt Sutter and FX, I make no profit and mean no offense with this work. I do however own Keelin.
Keelin rolled over onto her stomach stretching out her arm to find an empty bed instead of the warm body she had slept against. She pressed her cheek into the mattress giving her the opportunity to become more awake. As consciousness fully sank in she flipped onto her back. So, he had left. It shouldn't surprise her that Tig had snuck out as she slept. He left more times than he stayed; at least he stayed once and awhile. Her thoughts were interrupted by muffled voices. She hauled herself out of bed, and headed to the sitting room.
She was greeted by Clay Morrow leaning against her couch intently talking to Tig. Definitely not a good thing to see at seven in the morning. Tig turned the instant she stepped into the hallway. He leered at her, making her very aware of her thin white tank top and girl's boxers bedroom attire. God damn filthy yank. She walked up to Tig. "Don't mind me, just going to pop in and have a shower," she said kissing his cheek then rushing to the bathroom. After the door shut she waited before flipping on the fan and water.
"This could be bad Clay," Tig said.
"It usually is when it's the fucking Mayans!"
"Why the hell are they pushing on Vegas?"
"That's the fucking question isn't it?"
Deciding she had heard enough she finally flipped on the fan and water to drown out the voices of the bikers in her sitting room. Stepping into the spray she closed her mind to all the worrying thoughts of SAMCRO. After toweling off she wrapped herself in an old grey dressing gown before heading back out of the bathroom. Tig was standing alone in the kitchen drinking coffee.
"Clay, have to leave? I was about to make breakfast," Keelin said joining him.
"He had to round up the boys. Looks like I'm heading to Vegas for a day or two," he said after she had poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Ah aiming to sweet talk me over coffee, were you?" She said enjoying her drink. Tig walked over and took her coffee setting it on the counter.
"Oh I'll sweet talk alright Doll. But, it'll have to wait," he said pressing her into the counter with his body up against hers.
"Bloody hell, are you always thinking with your prick? Get yourself to the clubhouse before Clay kicks down my door," she said pushing him away with a grin.
"We ain't finished. If anyone asks, tell 'em we had a line on a new car for you," he said gathering his work shirt and boots from where they had been thrown the night before.
"Don't you think people will wonder why I'm not there picking out my own car?"
"Yeah, like we'd trust you to pick out another car after the Grand Prix?"
"Get the fuck out Alex," she said playfully pushing him toward the door.
"You give Bobby a call if you need anything," Tig said opening the door.
"You be careful," she replied.
"Yeah, yeah."
Keelin pulled up to the stop light, she leaned over looking through the glossy white bag on the seat containing some massage lotion samples and hand massage guides. Gemma had told her Clay's hands had been a little tender lately after a recent injury at the shop combined with some long rides. She wanted to make sure she hadn't left anything in her locker. A few minutes later she pulled into the Teller-Morrow lot. She spotted the chromed-out bike as she killed the engine; a wide grin spread across her face. Apparently Tig's trip to Vegas was a short one, she headed straight to the clubhouse completely forgetting the package for Gemma sitting on her front seat.
As soon as she walked into the clubhouse his hands were on her. His hands were deeply seated in her hair as his lips assaulted hers. Keelin let him take what he needed from her, and then placed her hands on his forearms. Tig pulled his hands from her hair, and placed a soft gentle kiss on her lips, that startled her. Tender was not Alex Trager's strong suit. "Did ya miss me?" He asked with a smirk walking over to one of the couches.
Keelin followed him and straddled his legs settling on his lap. "A course I did. How was Vegas?" she asked knowing he wouldn't tell her a thing. He just shrugged running his hands up her thighs. She leaned forward kissing him tenderly. She snaked an arm around his neck, she let the other slid down his cut. She wondered if the wear on the leather would ever reflect the wear on man under her. "So, did you bring me any presents?" she asked in attempt to lighten the mood.
Tig let out a loud laugh. "What is it with you broads and presents? What do ya want a fucking tacky shirt with the strip on it?"
"Aye. With the sign, and maybe some show girls," she said smiling at the idea of Tig in a souvenir shop.
"Baby, if you want a present I got one right here for ya," he said taking her hand and placing it over the zipper of his jeans.
Deciding to play along a bit, she moved forward on his lap and kissed up his neck until she reached his ear. "Tisn't a present if I already get it three times a week love," she whispered in a low voice.
Before he could respond he was interrupted by his brothers filing in. "Church," Piney said reaching them first. Keelin swung herself off of Tig, and perched herself on the back of the couch. She kissed her uncle he as walked by.
"I'll be waiting," she said as Tig passed her.
"Have a beer waiting for me," he said over his shoulder.
"Not bloody likely, you can fetch your own piss," she shouted back.
"There's my girl," she heard her uncle say before the door closed.
The guys had been in the chapel for over thirty minutes when Keelin had finished up explanations of products and techniques to Gemma in the office of the garage.
"These should help with the tenderness, and any stiffness," Keelin said packing everything back into the back. Looking past Gemma she saw Clay and Tig walking toward the office.
"Thanks for the goodie bag," Gemma said stashing the bag away.
"Twas nothing."
"We're gonna be having some guests tomorrow night," Clay said to Gemma entering the small office.
"Hello Mother," Tig said following him in.
"Who's coming?" Gemma asked her husband.
"The Vegas crew is heading in to sort out the Mayan problem. It'll only be for a couple days, they'll be here tomorrow."
"Jesus, Clay. You couldn't give me a little notice," Gemma said going through drawers.
"If you need any help just ring me Gemma," Keelin said as Tig slung an arm across her shoulders as they headed toward the door.
"Warming up to the Irish are ya?" Clay asked Gemma.
"Yeah, maybe."
She and Tig headed into the clubhouse and to his room. "When Vegas is here I don't want you at the clubhouse," Tig said once they were inside.
"I'm to stay away while they are here?" She asked settling on his bed.
"Yeah."
"You'll just have to come 'round the house then," she said moving herself onto his lap.