CharmingPawse BIII C15 WideningGyre BelfastBust

by wanderingchat

Everyone seems to be getting ready to travel somewhere. Cat prepares to go to the hospital for a check up; the MC is ready to go to Belfast; and Gemma is about to be transferred from St. Thomas to the SJCCF. Cat starts petitioning interest in running for city council, so Hale takes matters into his own hands to stop her. June finally clues Alex into Cat's past relationships.

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 15

Widening Gyre

To Belfast We Go

or Do We?

Sebastian stalked through the clubhouse's back door and kicked a garbage hard enough to put a dent in its' side. The action didn't make him feel any better and didn't do much good for the garbage can.

'I thought prospecting SAMCRO was gonna be a good thing! Easy money in my pocket, instant respect for wearin' the patch, and any woman I wanted whenever I wanted!' he fumed inwardly, giving the innocent trash can another vicious kick. 'All I get is a buncha dirty jobs and insults!'

Sebastian had been in awe of the MC for years. His fondest wish was to become a patched member. He coveted the deferential treatment the club received from the townspeople. He wanted some of that for Himself and had started hanging around the SAMCRO clubhouse as soon as he got out of the military.

Though he'd kept a low profile inside the clubhouse, Sebastian quickly became a friend to the club by always being the first to volunteer whenever a patched member needed a civilian's assistance. His ability to eavesdrop the townspeople's gossip and bring intel back to the club was also beneficial to SAMCRO. Sebastian would take every iota he gleaned to Opie, who would pass it along to Clay or Jax while making sure Sebastian received due credit.

He'd been shocked and saddened by Half - Sack's murder until he guiltily realized the club would have to replace him. When Opie came to him with the offer to prospect SAMCRO, Sebastian had been as excited as a kid on Christmas morning.

"Are you kiddin'?" Sebastian's voice had squeaked from excitement. He cleared his throat to add in a more reserved manner, "Sure, man."

Opie smiled inwardly at the other man's obvious excitement. 'That's the same way I reacted when SAMCRO asked me to prospect.' Not wanting the hang around to get the wrong idea, Opie stared intently at Sebastian and added, "Prospecting isn't easy. You have to put up with a lot of shit in order to earn that full patch."

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asked warily.

"You have to do anything and everything a full patched member tells you, whether a member of the local club or one of the charters." Sebastian shrugged. "I can deal with that!" "Maybe," Opie replied. "It'll be dirty and demeaning work. You're expected to jump to it without question. You can't talk back or question an order."

"I understand!"

"You say that now because you're excited about the idea. Try to remember that feeling when you're punchy from lack of sleep and get called out to do a menial task."

Sebastian had grown annoyed with Opie's warnings. He felt like the rider was trying to scare him off. "That's easy for you to say! You're a legacy, a son of a Son!"

Opie's eyes narrowed to slits. "That's what you think! Being a son of a full patched member doesn't mean shit around here!"

"But your dad was a founding member!" Sebastian protested.

"So was Jax's. Didn't make a damn bit of difference. Our prospect year would've made Hell seem like a tropical vacation!"

"Are ya tryin' to scare me off?"

Opie shook his head. "I'm just trying to get you to see reality, man. You're only a few years older than Sack; it's easy to be blinded by the apparent glamour of the club."

"What makes you think that?" Sebastian challenged. He felt a little guilty inside for Opie's comment had hit a little too close to the truth.

Opie smiled grimly. "Cause I went into my prospect year with the same expectations. Look, I'm not sayin' that it's not worth it. Just remember that at the end of the ordeal, you'll be part of the family and never be alone."

"I will!" Sebastian promised fervently. He sincerely meant it when he said it. After just a few hours as a prospect, the promising glow was fading in the face of harsh reality.

His stomach rumbled ominously, but not from hunger. Sebastian had been battling nausea from the moment Clay had ordered him to remove the bloody chunk of Kozik's skin from the clubhouse floor. The mere sight of any body fluids made him sick to his stomach. He held both hands over his stomach and bent over at the waist, willing the feeling to pass. He breathed through his nose, taking deep inhales and exhales until the urge to barf receded.

Sebastian straightened up with a sigh of relief, fixing his gaze on the fence across the lot while he lit a cigarette. 'I would have to wimp out right after that porn slut gave me the cold shoulder!' he mused angrily. 'I've gotta get over this phobia; there's gonna be a Hell of a lot more messes worse than that one to clean up before the year is out!'

The sting of Ima's cool rebuff still stung him. He knew Ima was interested only in Jax, but he hadn't allowed that to deter him from trying to hook up with her. Any female hanging around the clubhouse that wasn't a recognized old lady was considered fair game. 'Someone needs to teach her more respect for prospects!' he fumed inwardly. He heard his mother's voice in his head, reminding him that a person had to give respect to earn respect.

He shook his head to silence that nagging voice. He didn't have to give respect anymore. The cut and the prospect patch should automatically grant it to him. He was going to start demanding what was due him. 'What the use of wearing this cut if you can't benefit from it?'

He imagined himself walking into any of the stores lining Main Street, demanding whatever he wanted, and exiting with free merchandise from the grateful owners. 'Likely some of the shop owners will gripe to themselves, but they won't dare to turn me down or rat me out!' Sebastian smirked gloatingly. 'Hell, it's the least they can do for bein' allowed to operate free of corporate competition!'

He rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. He decided that he'd start first thing in the morning with a certain downtown coffeehouse and book exchange.

June's knitting project slipped through her suddenly nerveless fingers, settling into a fabric pool in her lap. Her eyes widened with surprise at Alex's request. "You honestly expect me to tell ya about Cory?"

"And the other guy that abused her," Alex acknowledged, taking another pull from the beer bottle. He emptied the last bit of liquid from it. "Cat won't tell me jack shit; I need to hear it from someone. You're here, she had to have told ya what ya didn't witness yourself!" He gazed across the yard and added, "Who else is there for me to ask?"

"You've got a point there," June replied wryly. "But I'm gonna give y'all the 'Reader's Digest' Condensed version."

"I think I need another beer for this," Alex announced. He stood up and pointed to her coffee cup. "Wanna refill?"

"Please," June nodded, gathering her knitting together and stuffing it back in her bag. She knew there'd be no way she could talk about such a delicate subject and successfully knit at the same time.

While Alex retrieved the refills, June pondered the pros and cons of confiding in Alex. 'Cat did the same thing with Bill in keepin' mum about 'Brownie'.' At least Bill had been around to witness what the drunken dope fiend did to her!' June closed her eyes and allowed her memories to return to the past and the havoc 'Brownie' had wreaked.

"This ain't gonna be easy! Hell, I can't understand why she's still willin' to cut the fucktard some slack! How do I explain to Alex that Cat believes she shares some of the responsibility for what 'Brownie' did to her?"

"Don't even bother to try, sweetheart," Alex murmured, setting June's refilled coffee cup on the table. He slid into the chair and leaned his long legs out in front of him.

"Just how much of our conversation did you hear before you made your presence known?" June inquired.

"Enough to whet my curiosity. I wanna hear the whole story about those two asshats that she says she let use her," he replied. "So start talkin', woman!"

June lifted her coffee cup and took a long, satisfying drink from it. The caffeine gave her a quick rush of energy and the daring to ask the question uppermost in her mind. "What makes y'all think it's gonna be any easier for me to tell you than it is for Cat?"

He inhaled on his cigarette, then allowed the smoke to billow out of his nostrils. "Because it didn't happen to you."

"Yeowtch!" She grimaced. "The truth really does hurt!" June shook her head and added, "But that doesn't explain why you wanna dig up long buried bones like this. There's not a damn thing y'all can do to change what happened!"

Alex gazed at her through hooded eyelids. "Because Cat won't talk about it. She wants to leave it in the past."

"That's her right, big boy!" June retorted. "What good is it gonna do y'all to hear about that shit now?"

Alex stared out across the lawn and took a pull from his beer. "I hate hearin' that she thinks she's responsible for what that asshat did to her. OK, I can't go back in time to stop it; that doesn't keep me from needin' to know. It's like watchin' a porn flick where the best parts are cut out."

June understood what he was telling her, but it wasn't quite enough. The silence between them was deafening.

Alex sighed resignedly. "You're gonna make me say it, aren't ya?" he growled. His gaze continued to drift about the back yard, taking in the well cut lawn and flower beds that Cat lovingly tended.

'Shit!' His hand massaged the bridge of his nose. "Please, June. It's a part of her she keeps from me, as if she's afraid I'll think less of her for havin' been weak."

"Fair enough," June replied in satisfaction. She leaned back in the chair in much the same manner Cat had done earlier, gazing into the pastel colored sky and started with the night she first met her friend.

It was a Fall evening during June's first semester at the campus. She'd been sent by Cat's on - again/off - again boyfriend to check on her, as they'd broken up for the umpteenth time. The boyfriend had taken June to the station, gotten her inside and directed her to the stairway leading to the radio station.

"I stopped on the mezzanine and glanced into the door to my right. There stood Cat, dressed in blue jeans, sneakers, and a KISS tee shirt, separating the wire copy she'd just torn off the news teletype. She was a little reserved when she found out who'd sent me, but invited me to hang out with her."

"Weren't ya bored?"

June shook her head. "Nah. It was kinda interestin' to see how a radio station works. She explained things in basic terms, and we talked about lots of things while the network program ran. Found out we had some of the same interests. I stayed until the end of her air shift."

Their friendship continued through the year. They discovered mutual likings for Star Trek and other science fiction. They wound up helping each other through the more stormy aspects of their respective romantic liaisons. One day at the campus Christian center that both girls frequented, an alumnus stepped across the threshold and into Cat's life. That person sent her into an emotional and psychological tailspin.

"Was the guy some kind of looker?" Alex inquired.

"Not really," June explained. "He was tall, dark colored, and thin, almost wiry, I guess. He hid his eyes behind very dark lenses. His voice was like gravel from too much alcohol and smoking and hard living."

"Doesn't sound like Cat's type," he mused a bit uncomfortably. 'Guy almost sounds like me, except for favoring dark lenses all the time!'

"There was an aura about him. He oozed mystery. He was charismatic. He was a good musician, a rider, and a dreamer. He had a lot of knowledge and could hold his own on any topic. Physically, he was average, on another level, though, there was a magnetism that caught her like a spider in its' web."

Alex took another healthy pull from his beer. Though he appeared calm on the outside, June's description of 'Brownie' had sent shivers down his spine.

The director of the center didn't know about Brownie's past, but felt something wasn't right about him, and did some investigating. What she found frightened her and she shared it with the students.

"Cat refused to believe the worst about him. That might be where her upbringing failed her the most. She believed in giving people more than one chance back then. She gave the first boyfriend plenty of chances and Brownie also benefited from that aspect of her nature," June continued.

After graduation and a very nasty permanent breakup with the on/off boyfriend, Cat was unable to find work in her chosen field. She worked minimum wage jobs while interviewing and sending out air checks.

Brownie left Vincennes without saying goodbye to his only ally. His abrupt departure co - incided with the end of a petty theft spree. He'd also talked her into a small 'loan' for an undisclosed medical treatment.

That abrupt departure had devastated Cat, though she refused to believe he'd been involved in the petty thefts. At the time, she had more important problems to contend with, as her parents' marriage was crumbling along with her mother's mental health.

"Yeah, I know all about that," Alex murmured.

"Cat didn't want to take sides in her parents' divorce. She tried to be there for both of them, but her mother gave her holy Hell for not takin' her side against Rev. Marshall."

"Wasn't that when he was first diagnosed with cancer?"

"Just after his first treatment," June murmured. "Did she ever tell y'all what that time was really like for her?"

"Yeah. Her maternal great grandmother and grandmother died, along with the divorce and movin' to college," Alex informed her.

"The familial fabric that was always a part of her life was really frayed by all that drek. I always believed that the only reason Brownie came back into her life was that he figured she'd inherited money from her grandma's estate."

Alex turned one eye on her in surprise. "Ya don't think he it could've been because he really cared about her?" Based on what he already knew, he had a good idea what June's answer would be.

"I know he didn't," June assured him. "Anyone who truly loves someone would never speak negatively behind their back about 'em. Brownie would put her down about her looks and her devotion to him whenever she was out of earshot. Then he'd play up to her to get whatever he wanted."

Alex's hand tightened imperceptibly around the neck of the beer bottle. He wished he was able to squeeze 'Brownie's' neck instead. It would've given him more satisfaction. He'd seen pictures of featuring a younger and heavier Cat. The fact that she'd battled weight all her life didn't affect his feelings for her.

He reinforced that fact every chance he got, knowing that her air of casual self - assurance was a carefully created mask she presented to the outside world. He knew she still often couldn't believe she'd managed to get - and hold - his interest in her.

June sneaked a glance out of the side of her eye at him. It heartened her to see his knuckles turn white around the beer bottle. Seeing that small amount of reaction reassured her once and for all that Alex was definitely not cut out of the same cloth as Brownie.

"She gave him shelter and allowed him to come and go from her apartment as he wished. She bought bikes and accessories for 'em and just about anything else he wanted."

Alex snorted in derision. "Sounds like a kept man to me!"

"He gave her dick, all right, but not in the physical sense. Everything she gave wasn't enough for him. When the money dried up, things started to mysteriously disappear."

"What kind of things?"

June shrugged. "Money she'd tucked away for the rent. Her high school ring, the guitar she got one Christmas from her grandmother for starters. Then other things - records, books, and some of her stuffed animals - soon followed."

Alex frowned angrily. Any man who would steal from the woman who sheltered him wasn't a man in his opinion. "Did she suspect him?"

"Not at first," June admitted. "She often had a lot of friends from school hang out there, and thought it might've been one of them. She also thought she might've misplaced some of the stuff."

"Kinda hard to misplace a guitar!" Alex scoffed.

"Then he started taking her car without permission and keepin' it out for hours at a time. She kept all her keys on one ring, so he'd keep her pretty well stranded."

"Why the fuck didn't she keep the keys hidden?"

"She tried. There was no keepin' things hidden from 'Brownie'. Nothing was hidden safely when he was around," June explained. "Her breakin' point finally came when he kept the car out so long that she had to walk all the way across town to the radio station to go on air."

"No buses? No one to call to give her a lift?" Alex growled incredulously.

"Not at three in the mornin', sport! She was the mornin' drive person at the time and had to be on air at five in the mornin'. She barely got there in time to load the tape players and sign on!"

"Rat bastard!" Alex snarled, envisioning Cat walking the darkened streets of Terre Haute. He shuddered to think of the dire things that could've happened to her on those dimly lit streets.

"You're bein' nice,' June grinned wryly. "So was she. He told her the car broke down and he had to spend money to fix it. She accepted that tale and even paid the asshat back for the repair!"

Alex's hand massaged the bridge of his nose again. "What made her wise up?"

June shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I'm not sure y'all wanna hear this, sport."

"You're prolly right, but go ahead anyway. I've heard this much, might as well hear the whole thing." He glanced across at the back gate, slightly worried over what was keeping Cat so long at the coffeehouse.

'Ah, she's a'right. CJ or one of the other employees would come runnin' after me if she wasn't,' he assured himself, settling comfortably back in the chair. "C'mon, woman! Get on with it!"

'Hah! All that macho bluster is hidin' your fear of bein' caught red - handed talkin' about Cat behind her back!' June stifled a grin behind her coffee cup, following Alex's gaze to the back entrance.

'Damn y'all, chick! Y'all knew Alex was listenin' to us! Figures y'all would expect me to tell Alex what y'all can't deal with!' She set the coffee cup down on the table and made herself comfortable in her own chair. "Y'all can't say I didn't try to warn ya!""

You know, Miss Cat, we should post the announcement and video on the webpage and the Facebook page," Christopher mused, looking over the addition to the petition Cat had written.

"I was thinkin' the same thing, darlin'. But I'm not sure about usin' that version of the song from the movie. It's cute, but a little too cute for my taste," she replied.

Christopher pointed to the 'You Tube' search results. "Here's something a little more mature, though I don't recognize the group."

Cat squinted at the item Christopher referred to. "The Andrews Sisters. That's from the 'Big Band' era of the forties," she explained. "Let's give it a listen."

Christopher selected the video, which was a colored background with lettering. There was no cartoon that popped up, only a still picture of the female trio.

"I like it, let's put that one on the website with the announcement," Cat stated.

Christopher clicked a few keys, moved the mouse a bit, and sat back in satisfaction. "Ready to add to the web pages tomorrow morning. Is it OK to print the petition for tomorrow?"

"Yes, darlin'. Thanks." She stood up and patted her young employee's shoulder. Appreciate your patience with me."

"I'm sorry I didn't think about this myself," Christopher replied.

"Not your job, darlin'. I didn't think of it either." She started toward the doorway.

Christopher spied a piece of paper on the desk and called out, "Do you need this? It was laying on the desk when I came in to use the computer earlier." He held out the label she'd printed and forgotten to take with her.

She glanced at the paper in CJ's hand. It was the label she'd designed for Alex's Snicker Bar coffee. "Thanks. I'll see y'all tomorrow." She turned back to the office door but limped towards the kitchen instead of the back door.

She stopped at the storage room to obtain a small sample - sized bag, then headed to the kitchen to bag the remaining grind. 'If Alex gets a hankerin' for coffee across the pond, he'll have his own blend to rely on,' she reassured herself. She poured the ground coffee into the small bag, then trudged back to the storage room where the shrink wrap materials were kept.

Cat closed the bag, then pulled a section of shrink wrap from the roll, positioning the bag in the center before applying the label to the front of the bag. She expertly folded the wrap over the bag, then activated the blow dryer, moving it slowly over the bag until the wrap had shrunk and completely enclosed the bag.

She then selected a prepackaged sample bag of the two whiskey blends. 'I'll just slip these in Alex's duffel. It'll be a nice surprise for him when he finds 'em.' Cat placed the samples in a small bag and limped on to the back door. She glanced into the office to see Christopher was busily placing the printed petitions onto clipboards, and attaching string to 'Charming Pawse' logo pens.

He sensed her presence and looked up at her, smiling in delight at her encouraging 'thumbs up' gesture. He nodded before turning his attention back to the task at hand, watching out of the corner of his eye as she limped to the back door.

Cat stepped between the back door of the coffeehouse and the back gate leading to her home. She could barely hear June's voice, but felt a wave of relief to know her best friend and her husband were talking amiably.

'Considerin' what he likely overheard, I'm glad they're still gettin' along!' she observed wryly. 'I sure as Hell don't wanna interfere!'

She limped away from the backyard gate and headed for the seldom used side gate that opened onto the sidewalk between the coffeehouse and her home. 'It's not gonna kill me to walk half way 'round the block!' she encouraged herself.

By the time she got to her front door, however, her opinion had undergone a radical change. 'Damn! That felt like a friggin' mile!' she let herself into the house, limped to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. She was sound asleep in a few seconds. The 'Charming Pawse' bag fell to the floor beside the bed.

Jax strode resolutely from the hospital entrance to his Harley. His face didn'treflect the turmoil he felt from breaking up with Tara just a few moments earlier. He knew it was the right thing to do to protect her future, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.

'She's gonna be waitin' for me at the house, ready to discuss why we shouldn't break up,' he thought while straddling his bike. 'I'm just not up to that argument. There's gotta be a way to show her just how serious I am about this!'

He started the Harley and roared out of the parking lot towards the compound. His mind went back over everything he'd done with Tara, everything they'd talked about. One particular conversation provided the solution to Jax's problem.

He'd been preparing for the first gun run for the Hayes, which was being made under the guise of a charity ride. Tara had asked if their relationship would ever be more than her just being his 'old lady'. She admitted to him that she couldn't bear the thought of him ever having sex - including non committal 'road sex' - with another woman.

As far as Tara was concerned, Jax having a one night stand with another woman would be cheating. 'If she feels that strongly about it, then that's the best way to make her realize how serious I am about this!' He consoled himself. 'I know just the right woman to use! If Ima's still at the compound, I'll spend the night with her. Tara will come lookin' for me in the mornin', find me with Ima, and she'll close the door on our relationship for good.'

Part of him rebelled at the idea of betraying Tara in that manner. He shrugged that guilt to the side. He felt he had no other choice to make Tara see reason. It never crossed his mind to feel guilty about using Ima. As far as he was concerned, she was a means to an end - a tool to be used and cast aside when it had served its' purpose. He increased the pressure on the throttle, anxious to get back to the compound before Ima coaxed a ride out of one of his brothers.

Alex listened intently to June's recitation. Once in a while she'd wince as his beer bottle landed on the table with a solid 'thump'. She knew that meant Alex didn't like what he had heard and was fighting to keep his cool.

The only other noise he made came whenever he ignited his lighter long enough to light another cigarette. June's gaze never left his face, taking in the stern set to his jaw as if he trying not to spit out a nasty tasting medicine.

Alex's posture had slowly shifted from the relaxed slouch he'd assumed to reminiscent of a coiled rattlesnake waiting to strike at its' victim. Relating the ancient story to him gave June a sense of relief and freedom she'd not known for years.

'Bill was around when all that shit went down with the drunken dope fiend. I doubt he ever knew about the things Brownie did to her.'

June's narrative had upset Alex more than he'd anticipated. It had never occurred to him that Cat could've suffered so much physical and emotional abuse from the two men she chosen to love.

He wondered where she'd found the courage to be try to face him down in the street long before the coffeehouse opened, much less tease him about cursing in her establishment.

The indignities that she'd suffered at the hands of the drunken dope fiend were mere pranks when compared to the many attempts 'Brownie' had made on her life.

'Shit! I come off like a fuckin' angel compared to those two fucktards! I've done some pretty weird shit to women in the past!' He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Try as he might, he couldn't reconcile himself with Cat's ability to feel compassion for either man.

"I still don't get it, sweetheart," he protested. "Forget about 'Brownie' for a second. Why in the Hell would Cat feel bad about gettin' that other asshat outta her life?"

"It wasn't the breakin' up with him that bothered her, it was the way she did it. She felt it was kinda underhanded to break up while he was in jail."

"Best time to do it if ya ask me," Alex grunted, picking up his beer bottle and draining the last of the brew from it. 'Hell, I should know!'

"That's what I tried to tell her! She didn't agree and we argued about it for weeks."

"Shit! She would look at it that way!" He snorted, placing the empty bottle on the table with it's cousin. He took a long drag on his cigarette, then stubbed the butt out into the ashtray so hard the cups and bottles rattled.

"Easy, Tarzan! Don't break the furniture!" June admonished. "That's not gonna change what Cat felt at the time!"

"Please tell me that 'Brownie' asshole is rottin' in jail for tryin' to off her!"

"No can do, sport," June replied wistfully. "There wasn't enough evidence for the county prosecutor to file charges. Y'all can't arrest someone on a hunch. 'Brownie' never left any physical evidence to point at him."

"What the fuck did he hope to gain by killin' my girl?" Alex snarled.

"Money."

"What money!" Alex roared. "He'd pretty much taken every dime she had!"

"True. Like I said earlier, nothin' was safe from 'Brownie'. He'd snooped through her personal papers and found a hefty life insurance policy her parents took out on her when she was born. The beneficiaries would either be her surviving parents or her spouse -"

"Oh, shit!" Alex interjected, bending over to rest his elbows on his thighs while his hands massaged his forehead. "You're not sayin' -"

"Not in reality, but it looked good on paper," June replied. "Before he started slippin' those small amounts of poison in her food supply, he established a very believable paper trail that he'd married her."

"Fuck!"

"No, he still wouldn't go that far with her," June retorted grimly. "At least not literally, but he certainly fucked her royally. Since he was a biker, the so - called 'lone wolf', she embraced the lifestyle in order to be closer to him."

"Shit! How'd ya finally get her to believe 'Brownie' was plottin' against her?"

June snorted inelegantly. "No one did. She figured it out herself. Layin' in a hospital ICU gives a body a lot of time to think! Cat's got a sharp mind, and it didn't take long to come to the inevitable conclusion. When she was released from the hospital, she carefully dismantled 'Brownie's' paper trail. He took off after she changed the locks on the apartment, but the attacks kept comin'."

"Didn't she get a restraining order?"

"Sure. But back then, they weren't as effective as they are now. There wasn't such a thing as 'domestic abuse' laws, remember."

"So the fucktard's still breathin'," Alex observed. His tone of voice promised 'Brownie' wouldn't enjoy breathing if his path ever crossed Alex's.

June couldn't keep from reveling in that knowledge. "There were rumors that he'd died and Cat would relax. As soon as she felt comfortable, he'd show up at the campus Christian center tryin' to find her."

"Why the fuck would he go back there when he was barred from it?" Alex asked incredulously.

"The director retired and a new one took over. The students that knew his reputation graduated and his banishment was forgotten. So he felt comfortable playin' the visitin' alumnus and usin' the center's computer to see if he could locate Cat or anyone who might lead him to her."

"Includin' you,"

June shook her head. "He tried to contact me, but I refused to accept his collect calls. For a long time, anyone callin' me had to have a code word. Cat was relatively safe by that time. Not just because I wouldn't betray her to 'Brownie'. She'd married Bill and changed her last name. She also dropped her affiliation with the center and the college."

June sighed tiredly and added, "But I don't think she ever truly felt safe from him. She always feared he'd someday show up on her doorstep and Bill wouldn't be around to protect her."

Alex's hands closed tightly over the metal arms of the lawn chair. His grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. "D'ya think she still

feels that way?"

June grinned slyly at him. "Not any more, big guy. Cat'll kill me for tellin' y'all this, considerin' how she bristles at your Neanderthal behavior where she's concerned. She finds a lot of comfort in your male posturin'."

A bemused smile lightened Alex's grim expression. "She's got one Hell of a way of showin' it!"

"Woman's prerogative, my friend!" June replied.

Alex snorted an inelegant response of his own and lit another cigarette. His attention turned from his desire to pulverize 'Brownie' to concern over Cat's continued absence. He pulled out his prepaid and pressed the pre - programmed number for the coffeehouse.

"Charming Pawse. This is Anna speaking."

"Tig. Cat still there?"

"No sir. Christopher said she left out the back some time ago," she explained. "Should I send Adrian out to check the back yard and the house?"

"Nah. I'm headin' for the house, just thought I'd call there first in case my girl was still there. Thanks, sweetheart."

June admired the calm manner Alex used in addressing Miss Anna. Though he was worried about her absence, he didn't say anything that might unnecessarily alarm Cat's employee. Her growing respect for him increased another notch.

He closed the cell phone with an impatient snap. "Dammit!"

"I take it Cat's up to mischief again," June observed wryly.

"You know it, sweetheart. She left the coffeehouse some time ago. She sure as Hell didn't come through the back yard!" Alex called over his shoulder as he stormed to the back gate, mentally preparing himself to see his woman lying on the ground in pain.

He opened the gate to find nothing but grass and concrete lining the area between their property and the business. His hand rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion. "I've gotta bad feelin' about this."

"I know damn good and well Cat doesn't have an invisibility cloak!" June snorted, grabbing her knitting bag as she headed to the gate leading to the driveway. "Wanna split the search? It'd go faster."

Alex's long stride swiftly overtook her. "I can cover the block faster with the car. If she's down, I can use it to get her back to the hospital."

Before he could climb into the PT, June cried out, "Hold up a second, Alex! Maybe Cat heard what we were talkin' about and went to the front door so she wouldn't interrupt us!"

"What the fuck would she do that for?" He called over his shoulder. "Don't answer that, sweetheart," Alex raced for the back door with June hot on his heels. They charged through the kitchen and dining area and on into the living room. June checked the couch while Alex tried the front door. The front door was securely locked and the couch was vacant.

They exchanged a concerned glance, then Alex glanced towards the hallway leading to the master bedroom. A small sound, like steam escaping a pressure cooker, caught his ear and he grinned with relief.

"What?" June hissed.

"Follow me, sweetheart," he replied softly, leading her towards the bedroom. The door was open just enough to allow them to see the dark interior. Alex leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest as the hall light illuminated the bed. Cat lay stretched out on the bedspread, sound asleep, a slight snore issuing from her slightly parted lips.

"Looks like you were right, sweetheart. Why the Hell couldn't she just come on through the back yard? Would've saved her a lot of effort - and me a few gray hairs! Is she tryin' to give me a heart attack for fuck's sake?"

'So many jokes, so little time!' June thought, fighting resisting the urge to make a wry comment about Alex's heart. She sensed he wasn't in the mood for word play.

"It's not like she deliberately set out to annoy y'all!"

He rubbed his face with one hand in an attempt to wipe away the tension and fear of the last few minutes. "I know she didn't, June. Hell, I'm not mad at her, just the fuckin' situation!"

June placed an understanding hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "I'd be more worried if y'all didn't react like a caveman," she replied softly. "I know she can be a handful at times, but go easy on her this time, OK?"

Alex's eyes were riveted on his wife, but he acknowledged the implied order in June's request. "A'right, sweetheart. I won't read the riot act - this time."

His stomach growled at that moment as if emphasizing his promise. The aroma from the kitchen made his mouth water slightly. To cover his embarrassment over his biological outburst, he muttered, "Anything to eat in this joint?"

June rolled her eyes. "Yeah, our girl thought ahead. Crock pot's takin' care of dinner, which'll be ready whenever all y'all are."

The telephone beside the bed startled them both with its' shrill ring. June glanced at her watch and smiled slightly. "That'll be Cat's father with his nightly check in." The phone rang a second time, but Cat didn't move a muscle.

"Damn! She's out for the count!" Alex observed. "Guess y'all better answer it, stud. Rev. Marshall'll enjoy talkin' to ya. I'll leave y'all to it," June backed into the hallway as she nudged him towards the phone. She grinned triumphantly and closed the door behind her.

Margaret Murphy's eyes swept her immaculate office, making sure nothing was out of place. Her desk was clear of all important paperwork, which was now securely locked in the file cabinet. The computer tower and monitor was turned off for the night to conserve energy. The copier and fax machines were on standby for the same reason.

She thought over the meeting earlier that day with June Kruckle and the chief of staff. They'd offered to buy her contract and offer her a full - time position as health information officer. In the few days June had been at St. Thomas, she'd worked through three years of mismanaged files, getting everything back in order for the upcoming yearly audit.

'Thanks to her, we might actually pass the audit this year!' Margaret enthused. Dr. Barry and the other administrators had agreed and gave Margaret the green light to make the offer. She'd been surprised that Ms. Kruckle didn't leap at the opportunity to become a permanent employee.

'If nothing else, I would've expected her to want to be closer to her best friend!' June had asked for time to consider the offer, and would give the administrators an answer the following day.

The only major problem that day had been a false fire alarm near the jail ward. A former patient had acted out and pushed the fire alarm, taunting the SJSD deputy and the security guard into chasing him. No one had been injured in the melee, the patient was now on the psychiatric wing under a 72 hour hold, and none of the occupants of the jail ward had escaped.

'Not a bad day at all!' Margaret thought, glancing around her office with an air of accomplishment and pride in its orderliness. She reached for her purse just as her cell phone began to ring.

Margaret glanced worriedly at the clock on the wall. She wasn't running late, so it couldn't be her husband calling to check on her. Though it was sometimes annoying to have a predictable spouse, Margaret rather liked the fact that she could count on him not only to take care of the housework for her, but to check with her if her homecoming call was more than five minutes late. She felt blessed to have him, as many husbands would be far too content to sit on their duffs waiting for their working wives to come home and start their 'second' job.

Her frown intensified when she read the incoming telephone number. Agent Stahl. Margaret was tempted to let the call go to voice mail, but decided against it. 'Best get this over with!' She flipped open the phone and barked, "What do you want now, Agent Stahl?"

"That's not a very friendly greeting!" Stahl protested airily.

"You want a friendly greeting, get yourself a pet," Margaret retorted. "Whatever else you might call our arrangement, friendly isn't one of them!"

"Guess I'll skip the usual pleasantries and get down to business," Stahl replied smoothly. "Gemma Morrow is being moved to the SJCCF tomorrow."

"Have you cleared that with Dr. Gallagher?" Margaret recognized the futility of that question as soon as the words were out of her mouth. 'Shit!'

"That's not necessary. She's stable. There's no reason to keep her on the jail ward."

"Dr. Gallagher will have plenty of reasons against it," Margaret countered.

Stahl sighed wearily. "That's his prerogative, but it won't do him any good."

"I beg to differ," Margaret insisted. "Mrs. Morrow was just admitted from the ER last night! Moving her to the SJCCF too soon could do more harm than good."

"That's not my problem - or yours," Stahl retorted smoothly. "Just see to it that all the paperwork is ready for the transfer."

"Will she be in the infirmary?"

"That's not your concern," Stahl reminded her patiently.

Margaret's eyes narrowed in anger in response to Stahl's blatant disregard for the patient's physical welfare. 'God knows I don't have a lot of love for her myself, but I wouldn't want her recovery jeopardized like that!'

"I know what you're thinking, Margaret. Best not to fight me on this. You have too much to lose and you know it."

Margaret wished for the umpteenth time that she'd never agreed to work with the agent in the first place. 'I should've just come clean with my family about the past and told Stahl to go to Hell! Instead, I let her lure me into her web of lies by making me believe I was protecting the hospital!' Margaret snorted in derision at her gullibility.

It had seemed so right when Stahl had asked her to help convince Dr. Knowles to turn on the club. "It doesn't look good for the hospital for one of your most renowned surgeons to be cavorting around with outlaws," Stahl had remarked the day she met with Margaret in the administrator's office.

"I can't dictate to any employee about their personal lives. Dr. Knowles' choice of friends isn't any of my business, any more than any other employee's friends!" Margaret retorted.

"C'mon, Margaret! You've got eyes! Haven't you noticed the amount of time Dr. Knowles spends with the club's VP? Holy Hell, woman! It's like the club makes this place a second home!" Stahl growled, referring to the club's presence in the hospital waiting room after Gemma's car accident.

"Didn't you find it suspicious that Dr. Knowles brought Gemma Morrow to the hospital for treatment several hours after the accident?"

Margaret nodded slowly. That had made her curious, as the police report indicated the accident occurred in the early morning hours, but Gemma didn't come to the hospital right away for treatment. 'She also had her grandchild with her, and that's not normal!' Margaret observed.

Stahl watched the hospital administrator's face carefully, and knew she'd taken the bait the agent had dangled so tantalizingly in front of her. "All I'm asking you to do is to ride herd on the good doctor. Come down hard on her for any minor infraction. Keep the screws on her, so to speak."

"And you think that's going to be enough to make her turn away from the club?"

Stahl smiled grimly. "If it comes down to a choice between her career or Jax Teller, I'm willing to put my money on her career."

Margaret continued to consider the agent's advice. She couldn't find a single bit of fault in the agent's logic. The hospital's reputation could easily suffer from the continued presence of the club within its' walls. St. Thomas was a small hospital, and couldn't afford a public relations nightmare that the Sons represented.

While the agent's words made a lot of sense, Margaret had a strong sense of ethics, As much as Margaret wanted to do what was in the hospital's best interests at all times, Stahl's request didn't feel right to her. Margaret had heard gossip around the hospital about Stahl's single minded pursuit of the Winston family that bordered on harassment.

When Donna Winston was killed in a drive by shooting, some of the hospital gossip mongers claimed that they knew Stahl had some kind of connection to it.

Stahl had paced the length of the office while Margaret thought over the offer. She watched the administrator's face and guessed that she was going to refuse. That led Stahl to place an ominous looking folder on Margaret's desk. "What's this?"

"Open it. You'll find it interesting," Stahl purred. Margaret opened the folder to find her own picture staring up at her, attached to a sheath of papers. Though decades old, the papers made up a dossier on certain transgressions she'd made as a youth. Transgressions that she regretted and had thought were buried in the past where they belonged. Margaret's throat and mouth went dry, but she brazenly looked up at Stahl and shrugged. "I don't see what this has to do with what we're discussing."

"Oh, it has everything to do with it, darlin'," Stahl purred again. "I'm willing to bet that the hospital big wigs don't know about your sordid past history. How do you think they'd react to find out about it?"

Margaret shrugged, acting as if the idea was of no concern to her. "Considering that it happened decades ago, they'd probably not bat an eye." "But you don't want to find out for sure, do you?"

Stahl leaned forward over the desk to stare directly into Margaret's eyes. "I'm certainly willing to bet that you don't want your husband and children to learn about this!"

Margaret suppressed a gasp of shock. She felt cold hands grip her insides, turning everything to ice. "You - you wouldn't-"

"Oh yes I would!" Stahl whispered menacingly, closing the file and laying one hand on it. "I'll do whatever it takes to dismantle SAMCRO, and if I don't have a single qualm about taking anyone else down with the club if they don't co - operate!"

Margaret had reluctantly agreed to Stahl's terms, and began the campaign to make Dr. Knowles' professional life Hell. At first, Margaret had enjoyed herself, but that enjoyment rapidly faded as Stahl treated her more like a lackey than as a colleague.

As the hospital administrator's silence lengthened, Stahl uttered a silken threat into the receiver. "You don't want me to call your husband, do you?"

"What makes you think I haven't told my family by now? That sword of Damocles you've been holding over my head may not have any sharpness left to it."

"Why don't I call your husband and ask him?" Stahl countered archly.

"I thought so!" she added triumphantly when Margaret didn't reply. "So get your administrative ass in gear, find Dr. Gallagher, and let him know his patient is transferring out tomorrow."

"And if he doesn't agree?" Margaret desperately played her ace in the hole.

"You don't want to find out," Stahl reminded her ominously.

The line went dead in Margaret's ear. She flipped it closed and stuffed it in her purse with an angry snort. 'It's time to come clean with my family about my past. It's not like the evidence hasn't been there for the kids and him to see every day! I'd rather they hear about it from me than from some trouble making Fed!'

Margaret's felt confident that Stahl wouldn't bother to check with Dr. Gallagher to see if she'd done the agent's bidding. 'She probably thinks the mere threat of exposing my secret to my family is enough keep me in line!' Instead of paging the doctor from her desk phone, Margaret strode out of her office, locking the door behind her.

Jacob Hale picked up the receiver to his desk phone and barked a greeting to whoever was on the other end. His landline wasn't used much, only for city council business and more clandestine maneuvers he didn't trust to the cellular.

"Thought you'd want to know we raided the SAMCRO compound," Lieutenant Roosevelt replied.

"I heard the sirens heading that direction. How's SAMCRO enjoying their county accommodations?"

"They aren't."

Hale held the receiver away from his ear, unable to believe what he'd heard. He shook his head and placed the receiver against his other ear. "What do you mean by that?"

"No arrests. I did as you suggested and alerted CPD as we were en route. Their jurisdiction and all that. We had drug sniffing dogs with us and searched every nook and cranny. We came up with nothing."

"I don't believe it!" Hale sputtered.

"Believe it," Roosevelt stated flatly. "I didn't get any tangible evidence, but there's gonna be a big housecleaning when the department takes over CPD."

"Tell me more," Hale replied, hoping there might be a ray of sunshine in the murky results of the raid after all. He suspected he already knew what the deputy was going to say, but he needed to hear it from the lips of someone with no beef against SAMCRO.

"I suspect several members of CPD are on SAMCRO's payroll." Roosevelt replied.

"Tell me something I don't already know! Unser is going to be at the top of the list!"

"It's likely he'll retire when SJSD takes over," Roosevelt stated.

"His cancer's terminal, and he'll be too crushed by the city voting against CPD to want to wear the black uni, much less take a demotion."

"You're probably right about that," Hale mused. "Who else is on the list?"

"I was surprised to overhear Officer Eglee apologize to the club VP when we stormed the clubhouse."

"Apologize for what?" Hale queried.

"She told him CPD didn't get enough notice to give them a heads up. Looks like you called that one right," Roosevelt stated.

Hale dismissed the deputy's off hand praise without a word. He was more concerned about the result of the raid. "You're sure your team checked everyplace?"

Roosevelt snorted indignantly. "I resent you asking that! We scoured that compound with a fine tooth comb! We used drug sniffing dogs, peeked into every nook and cranny on the site. No pills, no baggies, no lab for cooking. We didn't even find a single joint! The whole thing was a bust, no pun intended."

"Take it easy, Roosevelt!" Hale replied soothingly. "I thought the tip was valid, otherwise I wouldn't have shared it with you."

"Who was the tipster?" "He prefers to be anonymous. I'll you this much, he has no love for SAMCRO. That in itself was good enough reason for me to believe the information was valid."

"I made a surprise call on the clinic. The doctor was surprisingly accommodating. The clinic does have a stock of several strong narcotics, including Oxy, but nothing out of the ordinary."

"SAMCRO could've tipped 'em off that you might be coming there. Are you going back with a search warrant?"

"Not enough probable cause to get a judge to sign off on a warrant Clinics like that will have a stock of narcotics and other meds under lock and key. They often get samples from drug company reps and dole 'em out to patients who can't afford the cost of a prescription," Roosevelt explained. "It's all on the up and up."

"This doesn't make me very happy, Lieutenant. It doesn't seem like Charming will benefit from SJSD running public safety any more than having CPD handle it," Hale observed dryly.

"That's your opinion, sir. At this point, SAMCRO is not involved in drug trafficking," Roosevelt advised quietly before returning the receiver to the cradle of his desk phone. He'd done his duty by reporting back to the politico, there was nothing in the rule book that said he had to be courteous about it.

Despite Hale's grumbling, Roosevelt knew there was no danger of SJSD being denied absorbing Charming into its jurisdiction. 'The sooner Charming moves to disband the police department and let us take over, the better. The town might look like its' name, but there's some not so charming things under the surface the department would love to eradicate, whether I'm the man in charge or not!'

Hale's craggy features were flushed as if he'd been out in the sun too long. He couldn't believe that Darby had given him a bum tip, nor that Roosevelt would have the balls to hang up on him! He felt completely disrespected. He glanced down at the folder lying on his desk, a folder supplied to him by LOAN. The folder contained a single sheet of paper with the names of individuals Ethan Zobelle had personally selected for certain 'delicate' jobs. At the very top of that list was the name 'Earnest Darby'.

'If Zobelle hadn't vouched for Darby in the first place, I would've never believed his story! The old fool's inhaled too much of his own meth to be of any decent use!' He was tempted to shred both folder and list, but logic won out over his momentary frustration.

Zobelle had good reasons behind every action. It would do Hale no good to do something rash over a small obstacle. He'd have to give Darby another chance. There was another job that was right up the dope dealer's alley and would finally open the way for the Liberty Street project to move forward.

He picked up the landline receiver again and dialed the telephone number next to Darby's name.

"Darby!" barked the injured drug cooker.

"Jacob Hale. I have a proposition for you. Clean. No risk."

"What's the job?"

"Meet me in the alley behind Lumpy's on Liberty Street. We'll talk there," Hale replied.

"What time?" "I'll call you when I get there. No need for you to sit and wait on me," Hale retorted.

"'K," Darby growled, shutting off his portable phone and tossing it onto the table in front of him. He had no idea what the shady property manager wanted, and Darby didn't care what the job entailed. It paid, and that was the important thing to Darby.

Gemma lay on her side, snuggled against Clay's warm, solid body. He lay on his back with his right arm draped around her shoulder. They were sharing the narrow hospital bed. It might be the last night they'd spend together for some time, but his eyes were glued to the television set mounted from the ceiling.

Yul Brynner appeared in all his Imperial majesty as the King of Siam. He had just dictated part of a letter to US President Lincoln offering to send many pairs of male elephants to that country as a token of respect. The King proclaimed that the elephants would mate and provide beasts of burden for the still - developing country. The English teacher he had rousted from sleep to take his dictation had quietly shot a cannon ball sized hole in his offer by pointing out that male elephants couldn't mate.

Clay laughed delightedly at the Siamese King's order to the teacher to fix it. Gemma wasn't paying attention to the movie. She'd seen it several times and found more enjoyment watching Clay's reaction to it. Nor did she mind that his attention wasn't entirely on her. It had been some time since she'd seen Clay behave in a light hearted manner.

Her heart condition hadn't improved enough for them to indulge in sex. She wasn't going to waste time being upset by her physical limitations. Her own attention wasn't entirely on Clay, anyway. She was inwardly concerned about what the immediate future would bring. Stahl hadn't rescinded the order to transfer Gemma from St. Thomas to the SJCFF.

Her family - her husband, her son, and their brothers - would be leaving for Belfast without her in order to rescue Abel. She wanted - no, scratch that – she needed to go along. She knew she wouldn't be at peace with herself until she held her grandson in her arms once again and she didn't want that reunion to be in a prison visitor's lounge.

Gemma thought back over the deposition she gave to the State's Attorney, naming Agent Tyler as Cameron Hayes shooter. 'Wonder why Stahl would want to pin a dirty shoot on her partner? Not that anything underhanded that gash does comes as any surprise!' She was also haunted by Jax's obvious collaboration with the treacherous Fed. Her son wouldn't admit it outright to her.

She hadn't survived the outlaw life on her looks alone. Gemma easily recognized Stahl's work in the testimony she'd been given to learn and regurgitate to the State Attorney. Stahl had shown her true colors too many times to be trusted. She feared Clay's reaction when he learned what Jax had done. She knew Clay would find out.

She sighed and nestled closer to Clay, wishing she could climb inside his skin and never be separated from him. Clay tore his gaze from the television to gaze inquiringly at her. "Don't worry, baby. We'll be back with Abel before you have time to miss us," he assured her.

Gemma smiled wryly. "I know. I just wish it were possible for me to be home when he gets there." Neither of them spoke of the one thing they mutually desired, as they both knew her going to Belfast was impossible. They acknowledged to themselves that there was no use wasting time wishing for something that couldn't happen, no matter how much they mutually desired it.

She closed her eyes, inhaling her husband's scent of tobacco, the garage, and the great outdoors. It comforted her, and enabled her to concentrate on a daring plan. She would accompany the men to Belfast, come hell or high water.

Ima sighed in resignation. She'd waited hours for Jax to return to the clubhouse until she finally had to admit to herself that he wasn't coming back that night. She gazed around the clubhouse, wondering if the rider from Tacoma who'd spoken up for her against the annoying prospect might give her a ride home, and possibly spend the night with her.

'He's not Jax, but he's easy on the eyes. Much easier than that prospect!' she mentally sized up Kozik and found him to her liking. 'He's got a great body for an older fella. There's some definite possibilities! I could certainly do worse!'

Kozik felt her eyes on her from across the room, where he was sitting at the bar, swapping tales with Happy. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Ima's. A slow smile lit his face at her perusal. 'Yeah, she's measurin' me a'right. A little skinny, but she's got a nice rack. Most porn stars are pretty good at givin' head. Could be a fun night!'

"Thinkin' of gettin' a piece of that, bro?" Happy inquired. "She's got some mileage on her."

"Don't knock experience, brother!" Kozik snorted. "Deflowerin' virgins gets a little old after awhile!"

"Hah! When's the last time you deflowered a virgin?" Happy retorted with an evil grin.

"Lot sooner than you, my man!" Kozik grinned back. He looked back over his shoulder again and winked at Ima, patting the stool next to him in an obvious invitation. Ima didn't give him time to reconsider. She rose fluidly from the sofa to saunter across the clubhouse floor, ignoring Sebastian's disbelieving stare. She leaned against the bar and ran an admiring hand along Kozik's bare arm.

"I remember seeing you at the wake for Half - Sack," she purred. "My name's Ima. I'm one of the Caracara girls."

"Kozik," he replied, tipping his beer at her in a salute. "Heard about the studio fire. Sorry to hear you're outta work."

"Dondo, one of LuAnn's former actors, has an independent studio over in Oaktown. With Caracara and Georgie Caruso's outfit out of the picture, he's got more work than players. He offered the lot of us jobs," she explained throatily.

"Congratulations," Kozik growled, his eyes hooding over from her continued light touch on his bare arm. He felt the fine hairs on his skin rising from her touch, as if small electrical sparks were passing from her skin to his.

"Thanks," Ima purred again. "I feel like celebrating. Would you like to join me?" Neither of them heard the roar of a Harley outside the open clubhouse door, nor Sebastian's snort of annoyance at their display. As far as Ima and Kozik were concerned, the rest of the world didn't exist; they only had eyes for each other. "

Why don't ya get a room, you two!" Happy barked, startling them out of their unspoken communion.

"I've got one across the lot," Kozik offered, setting his beer bottle on the bar.

"That sounds like Heaven to me!" Ima agreed, placing her small hand in Kozik's to pull him from the stool. He grinned over his shoulder at Happy as he wrapped a casual arm around her shoulder.

Jax strode into the clubhouse just as the pair reached the entrance. He scowled to find Ima was getting cozy with Kozik. "This one's taken, brother," Jax growled, wrapping his hand around Ima's free arm and pulling her to his side.

Kozik's eyes narrowed in annoyance. He was tempted to point out that Ima had come on to him, but one glance at the porn star told him it was useless to protest. Ima's attention was centered on the VP, her eyes lit with desire she'd not displayed for Kozik. She unconsciously snuggled close to Jax's side. The tip of her tongue peeked out from her moist, plump, red lips.

'Damn! Cold shower for me tonight!' Kozik mused, dropping his arm from around Ima's shoulders. He stood aside, his expression cautiously neutral as Jax wrapped one arm around Ima's shoulder and led her towards the apartment at the back of the clubhouse.

Sebastian smirked at the tableau that played out in front of him. If he wasn't going to get a piece of the blonde porn star, he was happy that the Tacoma SAA wouldn't be getting it either. Seeing the visitor get taken down a peg or two by the VP only increased his pleasure. Sebastian uttered a short bark of laughter that caused Kozik and Happy to glare balefully at him.

"Why don't ya make yourself useful as well as ornamental, prospect? The floor could use a good cleanin'!" Kozik snarled.

"It is clean!" Sebastian snapped back. "I just cleaned it after Tig beat the shit outta you!"

Kozik hawked up a wad of spit, sending it flying across the room to land just in front of Sebastian's feet. "It ain't clean now, so get busy!"

Happy snickered while Sebastian glowered at the Tacoma SAA. He was powerless to say or do anything but obey the patched member's order. He sighed in disgusted resignation and trudged to the supply closet for the mop and the cleaning bucket.

Miles and Filthy Phil stifled their own smiles, knowing that there but for the grace of God went they. Miles busied himself pouring another round of drinks for the remaining patched members while Phil gathered up the dirty glasses to wash in the kitchen.

"Just another day in SAMCRO paradise," Bobby observed wryly, sliding off his bar stool. He clapped Happy and Kozik on the back. "G'nite, boys. I'm headin' home."

"You a'right to ride?" Phil inquired worriedly, eying the small amount of whiskey Bobby had left in the bottle.

"Always, brother," Bobby assured him.

"It'd take a lot more than one bottle to make Bobby blotto," Happy reported. "

You got that right!" Kozik chimed in, raising his beer in a salute and deliberately spilling some on the floor for Sebastian to mop up.

Bobby sighed in mock disgust. "On that note, Elvis is leavin' the building. See ya in the mornin', guys." As Bobby trudged to the door, Kozik sighed and set his beer down on the counter.

"What's a guy to do when he's been left high and dry?"

"Find another piece of pussy," Happy replied, gesturing at the Croweaters lounging on the sofa Ima had vacated. "Plenty to choose from."

"Ever get tired of pussy?"

Happy stared at Kozik as if he'd just sprouted a horn in the middle of his head. "Are ya nuts? Self service is OK in a pinch, but who would ever admit to bein' tired of pussy?"

Kozik snorted and glanced over his shoulder at the Croweaters. "I'm talkin' about community pussy, brother. Don't ya ever wish there was pussy that some other guy hadn't dipped into?"

"Who the fuck doesn't? It takes a particular kind of woman to live this life. Gemma and Cat make it work. Donna fought it." Kozik tipped his beer and took a long pull from it.

"Kinda looks that way for Jax to hook up with that tall blonde."

"That one's had her eye on Jax ever since we acquired half ownership of Caracara. Ya saw how quick she dumped ya for him!"

"True, dat."

"Not countin' that she's been driven around the block a few times," Happy added. "Talk about community pussy! You lookin' to settle down?"

"Dunno, brother," Kozik mused. "It'd be kinda nice to have a woman of your own to come home to."

Happy's eyes narrowed in thought. "Ya act like you've already got someone in mind."

"Maybe. Saw this cute little gal the other day. Classy type of chick. Short, maybe comes up to here on me," Kozik placed his hand half way up his chest to demonstrate. "Looked intelligent. Has a bit of an accent."

Happy's expression darkened from Kozik's description. He knew exactly who the Tacoma SAA was talking about. Warning bells were sounding off in Happy's head. "Ya don't wanna go near that one, brother!"

Kozik's eyes narrowed. "Why? Think I'm not good enough for her? Just cause I'm a Son doesn't mean I can't appreciate a fine woman!"

"Cool off, Kozik! Appreciate that one from afar. That's Cat's best friend!"

"So?"

"You like playin' with fire, brother? Tig would cut your balls off and shove 'em down your throat if ya even looked at the lady!"

Kozik placed his hand over his crotch. "Well, I looked at her, and they're still intact!"

"For the moment, man," Happy swallowed a large, fortifying gulp of whiskey. "If Tig finds out ya looked or have an interest in that chick . . ."

"What?" Kozik urged when Happy fell silent.

"Well, I just wouldn't wanna be in your boots."

Kozik hunkered over his beer bottle, his brows furrowed in frustration. "I'm not afraid of Tiggie!"

"Not sayin' ya are," Happy replied. "I'm just sayin' there's plenty of decent women around that won't raise Tig's ire. If I were you, I'd consider Cat's friend off limits."

"You ain't me." Kozik muttered defiantly.

"Your funeral, brother." Happy shrugged his shoulders, draining the last of his beer from the bottle in front of him. He'd done his best to persuade the Tacoma SAA not to tread in dangerous territory. If Kozik didn't want to listen, it was no skin off his nose!

He turned on the bar stool to eye the Croweaters sitting across from him. Both were young and skinny, with long dark hair. He couldn't remember their names, and really didn't care. All he wanted was a warm, curvy body in his bed. Either one would do. His eyes locked with one of the Croweaters, who wore a white tube top and retro bell bottom jeans.

She nodded and rose from the sofa, meeting him at the doorway. Happy's arm slid around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. She fit against him like a glove. It didn't matter to him how many of his brothers had had her before him, or would follow him. For tonight, she was all his.

Kozik watched the two getting cozy with each other and felt the other Croweater's eyes on him. He glanced at her and shrugged. As much as he'd like a warm body with him, he didn't want 'sloppy seconds'. He wanted someone that his and his alone. Kozik turned away from the Croweater and drained the last of his beer.

He saw Sebastian grinning at him again and frowned. "That floor still looks dirty, Prospect!" he growled.

"Looks damn fine to me!" Sebastian countered.

Kozik peeled the bloody bandage that covered the hole Tig had chewed in his arm, letting it fall to the floor. It landed with a wet sounding 'plop'. Kozik stood up, deliberately stepping on the bandage, grinding the bloody mess into the tile. "Oops! Guess it just got soiled again," he smirked before sauntering out the door.

He neither noticed nor cared that two sets of eyes glowered angrily at his back. Jax and Ima were oblivious to the goings on in the clubhouse as they walked down the hall to the main apartment. As soon as the door shut behind them, Jax roughly pulled Ima to him, fitting her slim body against his.

"I thought you were going to give me a ride," Ima pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jax's arms slid over her body, down to the hem of her very short skirt. His hands bunched in the fabric, sliding it down over her bottom to reveal her black silk thong. The short skirt puddled to the floor at her feet.

"I am givin' ya a ride, darlin'!" he grinned slyly.

Ima stepped as far back as his arms would allow, reached up to her bolero jacket, and let it slide from her shoulders. It fell in a heap next to her skirt. Smiling delightedly at him, she slowly unhooked her bra, watching his eyes close half way as her bare breasts became visible. Anticipation and the cool air from the window air conditioner made her nipples stand out, firm and taunt and inviting.

Without waiting for a verbal invitation, Jax's hands closed over Ima's breasts, fingers kneading and pulling at the already tight buds.

Ima moved closer to him, stepping out of her high heels. Her hands moved to his belt, expertly undoing it and sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs. She smiled triumphantly at the feel of his need for her in her hand. It was warm and heavy, a bead of moisture already leaking from the tip.

"Take it easy, baby," she whispered in his ear, pushing him to the bed behind him. "We've got plenty of time." She kissed him, hard and deep. By the end of the night, she hoped to prove to him that she was better for him than the doctor.

After Rev. Marshall updated him on the latest news from Indiana to pass along to Cat, Alex poured out his frustrations over his wife's latest escapade. He gazed worriedly at her while his free hand slid gently from her stomach to her breasts and back again. 'Glad to Hell we don't have vision phone!'

"Cat's always been contrary, Alex," Rev. Marshall reminded him. "I could say the sky is blue, she'd say it was a more specific shade of blue. She's always walked to the beat of a different drum."

"I know, sir. It's just frustratin' that she keeps tryin' to do more than she's 'sposed to! If she'd just 'obey' what the doctors tell her, she'd recover faster. That excursion today didn't do her a lot of good!"

Rev. Marshall stifled a laugh. He sympathized with his son - in - law. "If it's any condolence, Alex, she gave Bill the same trouble."

"Some. Thing is, I think she gets some kinda twisted enjoyment from gettin' on my nerves!" he growled.

"But you wouldn't want her any other way, son," Rev. Marshall said consolingly. "I'd like to talk to her if she's awake."

Alex looked down at his wife, watching her eyelids flutter rapidly, a sure indication that she was in a deep sleep. Her breathing was even and steady. "Sorry, sir. She's still sound asleep. I can wake her if you want."

"No, let her sleep. That's probably best, Alex. At least she's not getting into mischief at the moment!"

"True, dat," Alex snorted.

"Just tell her I love her. Be sure to give the kitty cats a pat on the head so they know they're appreciated."

"Will do, sir." A sly grin lit Alex's face in anticipation of his step - father's next sentence. "

You two give each other hugs from her mother and I," he added. "I'm sure you'll enjoy that."

"Definitely. How's Rosemary, by the way?"

Though Rev. Marshall had given his traditional lead up to ending the call, he was glad Alex cared enough to inquire about his wife. "She's about the same, son. Not any worse, won't get any better," Rev. Marshall sighed.

"Well, be sure to return the favor of the hugs from us," Alex replied. "I'm sure you'll enjoy that."

"Indeed I shall. Stay safe, son. Love you." Rev. Marshall disconnected the call before Alex could reply.

He cradled the receiver and sat watching her sleep. "Damn, baby! What the fuck am I gonna do with you?" There were tracks of dried tear stains under her eyes and along her cheeks. He didn't know whether she'd had a good cry from her talk with June, or if she'd been crying from pain. What he did know was that the bandage over her eye needed changing again.

'Might as well do it while she's asleep, though it won't be as much fun!' He started to get up when he saw the Charming Pawse bag on the floor next to the bed. 'What the fuck?'

His curiosity aroused, Alex bent to retrieve the bag and peeked inside. A label marked 'Tig's Blend' adorned one small package of coffee, nestled between two small packages of the whiskey blends. His heart raced to realize that she'd put together the small care package for his trip to Belfast. He hated tea and hadn't been looking forward to drinking instant coffee, provided any could be found in Ireland.

"What kinda care package is this?" he snorted aloud. "No Snicker Bar Muffin!"

"That's what y'all get for peekin'," Cat murmured sleepily. "Did I snore?"

"Not this time. I could actually hear what your father was sayin' without havin' to cover your mouth and nose," he joked.

"Hmpf!" she snorted. "Why didn't y'all wake me up to talk to him?"

"He felt ya needed the rest, given your excursion around the house," Alex growled. "Why the Hell did ya do that to yourself?"

"To give you and June some privacy," she replied in a tone of voice that indicated it should've been obvious. "June would've clammed up the minute she saw me. Did y'all learn everything you wanted to know?"

Alex nodded. "And some things I'd rather not have known, baby."

She slid up against the head of the bed. "Sorry 'bout that, love. Y'all don't have to worry about the drop fiend. That drunkard died years ago. Bill found the obit on line."

"What about 'Brownie'?"

She shrugged. "Don't know. Don't care."

"I do!" Alex growled.

Cat laid a hand on his arm, the muscles were tense and hard under her palm. "Love, I haven't seen or heard a word from him in more than two decades. No matter how hard he tried, he never found me. I doubt that's gonna change."

"It better not," Alex replied angrily. "And quit sayin' you're responsible for what those fucktards did to ya! No man should treat a woman the way they treated you!"

Cat felt her insides turn molten at his vehement support. "Hate to argue with y'all, love, but I do bear some of the blame. They didn't put a gun to my head. I could've stood up to 'em both if not for my fear of bein' left alone."

"Ya would've been a lot better off, baby," he growled, his hand closing over hers to ease some of the sting in his words. "There's nothin' wrong with bein' alone, Cat!"

"I know that now; it was a lesson learned the hard way."

"Then why did ya put up with 'em?"

"Because I had some dumb ass notion that a woman shouldn't be without a man once she was past 25 years of age. Hell, a lot of my school mates had graduated, gotten married, settled down, and had rug rats of their own underfoot!"

Alex grinned slyly. "Baby, you are definitely not cut out for the role of domestic goddess!"

"Are y'all castin' aspersions on my housekeepin' ability?"

Alex held up his hands in mock surrender. "Of course not! Just because there's dust hassenpeiffer that could star in a 'Night of the Lepus' remake doesn't mean you're a bad housekeeper!" Cat glared at him, full aware that he was enjoying teasing her.

"Hey, I don't hear the cats complainin'!"

"Shit, woman! If I wanted a fuckin' maid, I wouldn't have married ya!" Alex's hand rubbed the bridge of his nose as he realized he'd just taken a big bite out of his boot.

"Thanks for the compliment, backhanded as it was," she mused wryly. "Y'all really know how to make a woman feel appreciated!"

Alex grinned unashamedly. "Damn, woman! You have a brass set of balls! How'd ya manage that after endurin' those two asshats?"

She sighed and leaned back against the pillows he'd arranged behind her. "It's never been my nature to run from a challenge, love. That's a gift from hangin' around my male cousins. Bein' fearful of people's motives, especially men's motives - would've given those two power over me they didn't deserve."

"Yet ya don't seem so confident about me choosin' you," he observed quietly. "Why do ya think you're not worthy of me? Didn't ya make Bill happy?"

"I think so. He did a lot to make me happy, even when I was at my worst. He started out as a friend who often came to my rescue when I got myself into a jam caused by the drunk doper. Bill was like a knight in Army fatigues. We eventually drifted from bein' best buds to bein' lovers."

"So what the Hell am I, chopped liver?" Alex growled good naturedly. He felt slightly jealous at hearing his woman extoll the virtues of another man; even if that man was dead and buried.

"Love, you're my knight in black leather astride a steel horse," she gravely assured him. "You and Bill have a lot in common. Both y'all accept me at face value - warts and all. A lot of women better lookin' than me always wondered why he'd settle for me. I don't like puttin' y'all in that same position."

Alex flushed with pleasure that she held him in as high esteem as her first husband. "I don't 'settle' for anything, baby. I chose ya, and haven't regretted one moment of it. Wish ya had a little more confidence in us."

"I do, love. Y'all made your motives very clear when you came home to me instead of hookin' up with KT," Cat observed softly.

"C'mon, woman," Alex stated gruffly, standing up and helping her from the bed. "Let's get that eye of yours cleaned up and re bandaged." Cat grinned and allowed him to lead her to the bathroom. She knew he was touched by her declaration; the catch in his voice was all the affirmation she needed. Alex quickly removed the eye bandage, cleaned the skin around it, then applied a new pad and taped it down. He didn't speak while he worked, and for once Cat kept her hands to herself, despite the temptation in front of her.

"Ya feelin' a'right?" he inquired once he'd finished.

"Sure. Why do y'all ask?"

"You didn't molest me like ya usually do. Thought somethin' was wrong," he explained.

Cat stared intently at the bulge in his jeans, which was right on a level with her good eye. "The view is great, love, but I'm a little miffed that y'all peeked at your present!"

"That's no reason to leave me high and dry, baby," he smirked, patting his crotch invitingly.

"Oh, believe me, abstainin' hurts me more than it does y'all," she sniped, then continued in a less feisty tone, "Guess I'm still a little tired, love. For the record, I was gonna include Snicker Bar Muffins in your care package. The whole thing was gonna go in your duffel. I was lookin' forward to y'all findin' it across the pond."

Alex leaned down so that his face was on a level with hers. "I'd like to show ya how much I appreciate that, baby!" He pressed his lips to hers in what started off as a gentle kiss, but grew more demanding and passionate as her hands stole up to his crotch, caressing the inviting bulge before moving up to begin unbuckling his belt.

"I'd tell y'all to get a room, but you already did that!" June's laugh pealed as she leaned against the bathroom door frame. "At least y'all are keepin' it clean!"

"Ya ever hear of knockin', woman? Ya might've seen more of me than ya intended!" Alex growled, reluctantly disengaging himself from his woman to tower over June. His awesome presence didn't phase her at all. She grinned up at him and retorted, "I did knock. Y'all were too busy to pay attention to lil ole me."

Before he could utter something suitably shocking, Cat interjected, "I wish you two would play nice!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! I always 'play nice'!" Alex protested.

"Yeah, right. And I'm the Queen of Sheba!" Cat retorted archly. Turning her attention to June, she added, "What's up, kittenface?"

"Figured y'all might be feelin' a mite peckish, so dinner's on the table. your Majesty!" June curtsied, her face glowing with delighted mischief.

Cat pushed her glasses up her nose with the middle finger of one hand.

Alex grinned and winked at June as he held out his arm to his woman. "I'd consider it a privilege to escort you to your dinin' table."

Cat glared at him, entertaining a momentary thought of making a retaliatory gesture at him, then decided to play along in the innocent game. "I shall deign to allow you to accompany me, sir knight in black leather!" June rolled her eyes and stuck three fingers in front of her open mouth, the universal sign for 'gag me'. Cat ignored her friend to place her hand on top of Alex's arm in the manner of a peer of the realm. "You are permitted to take us to supper," she stated grandly.

He bowed over her hand, then led her out into the bedroom and on into the hall. "Anyone want music while we're eatin'?" he inquired as they neared the library. "Sure. Whatever you choose, love," Cat replied grandly. She knew it was a gamble, but perhaps Alex would surprise her and play something that didn't sound like it belonged on 'headbangers ball'

Wayne Unser sat at his desk in his office at CPD headquarters, holding his head in his hands. His stomach was upset, but a joint wouldn't take the nausea away this time. Though he pleaded ignorance of the raid, Unser knew Clay didn't buy it and was totally pissed at him and considered him an enemy to the club. That hurt Unser more than his stomach and head. He'd never admit it to anyone else, but Unser felt closer to SAMCRO than he did to most of his officers. It amazed him how one decision could erase more than 20 years' history!

He sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand, trying to find some way to ease the pain as easily as he'd often eased his conscience in his dealings with SAMCRO. While there was no question that the long association had been lucrative for him, it had also been good for Charming. In exchange for keeping the type of crimes that plagued their neighboring boroughs away from the town, CPD turned blind eyes on SAMCRO's gun running for the RIRA, making Charming the town with the lowest crime rate in San Joaquin County.

Unser shuddered to think what the town would be like if SAMCRO wasn't around to ride herd on the criminal element those vices wrought. The taxpayers had accepted the status quo with a nod and a wink for years. Then came the tense showdown between the Mayans and SAMCRO in front of Impeccable Smokes, followed by the drive - by ambush the night of The Prospect's wake.

Unlike other minor skirmishes between the MC and their rivals, innocent civilians had been hurt and his deputy chief murdered. The taxpayers, urged on by Jacob Hale, began to mutter against the unofficial arrangement. They not - so - subtly demanded a change in CPD's attitude about the MC. After giving the matter a lot of thought, Unser had openly agreed to back Jacob Hale in his bid for mayor. They had talked and shook hands on the deal on Main Street, right in front of Floyd's barbershop in full sight of Piney Winston.

Unser knew damn well that either Floyd or Piney would inform Clay of the event. That was the reason he'd made the agreement with Hale in public. He'd hoped that would wake up Clay to the damage that had been done to SAMCRO's relationship with the town.

He'd been both surprised and pleased when Clay had come into his office earlier that day to talk. The club president had offered his belated condolences for Hale's death. They talked of Charming's future, then Clay had informed Unser that Abel had been found in Belfast. Unser at first reacted as if that had been the only reason Clay had come to him, to cover for the club's absence when the bond revocation hearing took place. Clay had assured him that wasn't the case. He just wanted to keep Unser in the loop.

As far as Clay was concerned, Unser was just doing the politically correct action by throwing his support behind Jacob Hale. It was similar to the MC's appearance at the memorial service for David Hale without their infamous cuts. Unser had honestly not known of the SJSD's plan to raid the clubhouse and garage when Clay had sat across the desk from him. Clay believed otherwise, and Unser knew from long experience that the club president didn't back down once his mind was made up.

'Maybe he would've been more willing to believe me had I not taken sides with SAMCRO's biggest enemy! I must really be a sadist to put myself through this!' Unser moaned to himself. He leaned back in his chair to gaze out the window. The sky appeared painted in pastel colors that reflected the setting sun. Another long, difficult day was drawing to an end. He didn't want to go home to the empty house, but he didn't have anywhere else to go now.

'If I thought it would do any good, I'd crawl to Clay for another chance, maybe take Eglee along to prove we didn't know about the raid until the last minute!' He shook his head, smiling grimly at his own folly. He already knew what Clay would say: "You really think Jacob Hale won't pull the rug out from under ya once he gets into the mayor's office? Shit! I wouldn't put it past the fucktard to stick a knife in your back before the primary!"

Unser had a feeling that he'd already been a victim to Jacob Hale's two - faced trickery. Trying to get back on Clay's good side would be a waste of time and energy. The first he had enough of, but the second was harder for Unser to come by.

His cell phone lay in front of him on the desk. It began vibrating against the faux wood paneling; the sound grated on his nerves. "Yes?" he barked, hoping whoever was calling would take the hint and hang up.

"This is Stahl. Sounds like you had a rough day."

'Christ! The perfect way to end a shitty day!' Unser rolled his eyes to the ceiling before replying, "Every day's a rough day when you're battling cancer, sweetheart."

"That may be true. I heard from the grapevine that you were part of a unproductive raid on SAMCRO. My condolences."

"Gee, thanks. Did you call to try to cheer me up? Cause I have to tell you, it's not working."

"Maybe this will help," Stahl replied, completely unphased by the police chief's sarcasm. "Gemma is being transferred to the SJCCF tomorrow. I've arranged for you to take her there."

"Why would you do that? She's a Federal prisoner, not CPD's or the sheriff's jurisdiction."

"Consider it a professional courtesy from one law enforcement agent to another," Stahl replied breezily. "Everyone knows you're close to Gemma. I thought you'd appreciate a chance to say a personal, private goodbye to her. Unless being on Clay's shit list puts you on Gemma's as well."

'You're a real bitch when you wanna be,' Unser winced. "You'd be surprised," he replied, thankful that his tone of voice didn't betray his reaction to her verbal barb.

"Maybe. Then again, maybe not," Stahl purred. "Anyway, she's due to leave St. Thomas at 3pm."

"I'll be there," Unser assured her. "Thank you."

"Well! Finally someone in Charming appreciates me!" Stahl laughed, abruptly ending the call. She smiled grimly in anticipation of Unser stumbling blindly into her trap.

Amy had gazed inquiringly at her throughout the call. "Given your suspicions about him, seems to me that having Unser take Gemma Morrow to prison is like asking a monkey to guard your banana!"

Stahl lifted an eyebrow as she considered Amy's comment. It was a very good analogy, as she expected Unser would try to help Gemma escape in order to get back in Clay's good graces.

"I imagine Clay's pretty upset with him about that surprise raid," Stahl replied languidly. "What better way to make up for today by helping Gemma escape?"

"Then why take the chance?" Tyler insisted.

"Unser's smart. He might want to get back in good with Clay, but he doesn't want to put his department at risk, either. He knows we'll be keeping an eye on him, so he'll toe the legal line on this transfer," Stahl assured her lover.

"I guess you're right," Tyler replied, though her tone of voice indicated she wasn't entirely convinced. "You ready to go home?"

"Not yet. I've got to get these reports together for the US Attorney." Stahl wasn't quite able to meet Tyler's eyes as she spoke. The reports were ready, except for some editorial changes Stahl needed to make.

"I thought he was coming to get them!"

Stahl felt her heart skip a beat. Tyler was smart, no getting around that, but she'd prepared a plausible excuse well ahead of time to cover her tracks. The last thing Stahl wanted was to arouse Tyler's suspicions!

"That was the original intention; he got tied up at the office, asked me to fax them over to him."

Tyler eyed the stack of folders in the center of Stahl's desk and whistled. "Looks like you'll be here awhile."

"Afraid so," Stahl agreed.

"I could help. Then the workload would be cut in half," Tyler offered hopefully.

Stahl winced inwardly. Tyler's offer had caught her off guard for a moment. She stared at her lover for a moment, then smiled brightly. "That's sweet, but I can't let you do that."

The hopeful light in Tyler's expression dulled instantly. "Yeah, guess you're right. Can't give the US Attorney any reason to suspect the reports were tampered with."

"I'm sorry, baby," Stahl replied, nearly choking on the consolation in her voice.

Tyler shrugged as she grabbed her purse from her desk. "Guess I'll go on home. I'll see you later."

"Don't wait up for me. I'lI have something delivered here," Stahl assured her. "These faxes will take some time."

"OK. Be careful."

Stahl blew a kiss to her lover, adding a beguiling smile. The smile faded as soon as the door closed behind Tyler, leaving Stahl alone in the bullpen. "I thought she'd never out of here!" Stahl sighed to herself, opening the first file while accessing the program the agents used for writing their reports. She started the arduous job of retyping the first report, making the necessary editorial changes to match Gemma's deposition.

While Stahl reworked ATF history, Tyler sat dejectedly in the front seat of her car. She was concerned about Stahl's growing emotional distance. She couldn't put her finger on it, but Tyler still had a bad feeling about Gemma Morrow's testimony.

'Why would she finger me? She doesn't know me from Adam! First time she's ever seen me was today!' Tyler worried over that event like a dog chewed a well gnawed bone. 'And why is June so distant? Maybe she's never forgiven me for the fuck up at the safe house.' She turned on the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot.

As she piloted her vehicle towards home, a thought occurred to her that made her quickly pull to the side of the road to stop the car. Tyler's hands shook as she turned off the ignition. Her stomach felt strange, and she barely managed to open the door in time to lean out and throw up onto the pavement.

She sat hunched over the steering wheel, crying and shaking from the onslaught of fear and revulsion that assailed her. Maybe SAMCRO wasn't setting her up after all. Given Stahl's aloof manner towards her lately, maybe - just maybe - Stahl was the one setting her up for the fall.

Tara lay wide awake in the darkened bedroom of Jax's house. She was unable to sleep and stared intently at the ceiling, her thoughts running in circles.

She'd sat in the living room of what she'd come to consider as 'their house', waiting for Jax to come home. After several quiet hours, she'd reluctantly admitted to herself that he was deliberately staying away and trudged off to bed.

'Likely he's staying at the clubhouse apartment tonight. Maybe he's rethinking that bomb he dropped on me earlier," she consoled herself. "Getting raided by the sheriff's department set him on edge, that's all. He knows I'd never rat on him or the club!'

She refused to accept that he was serious about breaking up with her. It was the second time that week he'd tried to put distance between them for her own good. They'd found their way back to each other the evening of Sack's wake. She felt certain that they could do so again.

'Jax sounded pretty intent about it this time,' the voice of reason firmly reminded her. She defiantly shook her head against the idea. 'I refuse to believe that's the best thing for me. Not after all we've been through!'

One hand moved protectively over her stomach. She couldn't feel anything from the tiny life growing inside. It would be a few more weeks before it would be able to kick or move.

Tara recalled the moment she'd realized that she was pregnant. Unlike the time she'd learned she was pregnant with Josh Kohn's child, she'd felt absolute joy to learn she was carrying Jax's child. This child was born out of love instead of an insane need to control her.

She knew Jax would be initially reticent about fathering another child so soon after Abel's birth and the difficulties he'd had in his first weeks of life.

'But I'm not a drug addict like Wendy! I'm healthy and fit, our child will have a better chance from the outset!'

Waiting for the right time was the hardest part. First came the fire at Caracara Studios and Jax's decision to go Nomad. She'd intended to tell him the night of the vote, once they'd left Charming behind them. Gemma had quelled that idea when she ordered the two of them to her house and admitted the gang rape to her son and husband.

After that, Jax's thoughts were centered on exacting revenge on Zobelle. Telling him about the baby had to wait until later, when he'd be in a more receptive mood.

Then Abel had been kidnapped and Half - Sack murdered by Cameron Hayes. Gemma had gone on the lam that same day. The time wasn't right for her to tell Jax she was pregnant. She wondered then if there'd ever be a good time to tell him.

She'd briefly considered throwing the pregnancy in Jax's face when he broke up three days after Abel's disappearance. Her sense of fair play had won out. She knew he wasn't in the right frame of mind to accept such news as long as Abel remained missing.

She wanted Jax to want and love their child as much as she did. Their relationship seemed to be OK until the sheriff's raid on the compound. She appreciated Jax's desire not to endanger her livelihood any further but didn't like that he'd arbitrarily decided to end things without any discussion with her.

Her frustration over Jax's constant deciding things without her input, explaining he was doing it for 'her own good' reminded her of similar frustrations Joshua Kohn had displayed a few weeks earlier.

'That was different!' she sternly reminded herself. 'I ran away out of fear of what he'd do when he found out I was pregnant!' She definitely didn't consider her action was in Kohn's best interests, that's for sure!

'Jax always hides behind my reputation as a doctor for splitting up. It's really getting old!" She frowned as her mind wandered back to those months long ago, while she still lived in Chicago. When Agent Kohn was making her life a living Hell on Earth.

Aaron Van Dusen, the staff obstetrician at Chicago Presbyterian, smiled at Tara as he slipped into his comfortable leather office chair. Tara was sitting on the edge of the chair directly opposite him. "Well, Dr. Knowles, your diagnosis is correct. You're definitely pregnant. About six weeks."

Tara's heart sunk into her stomach. There was no doubt in her mind that Joshua Kohn was the father. He'd been the only man she'd been sexually involved with for months.

She'd discovered much too late that Agent Kohn was an extremely jealous and possessive man. He would become crazily violent with her whenever his jealousy was aroused, and that was a constant occurrence. If she even glanced at a male co - worker in his presence - which was nearly every minute of the day - Tara could count on being punished 'for her own good' in private.

Van Dusen's smile faded into a frown of concern at Tara's continued silence. "This isn't good news, is it, Tara?"

"Yes - n-no," Tara stammered. She buried her face in her hands. "I don't know."

Van Dusen stood up and walked around the desk, leaning against the edge directly in front of his colleague. He gently forced her hands away from her face with one hand, while the other lifted her chin to make her meet his eyes. There was a world of hurt and fear in her expression.

He had no worries that Kohn would come barging in on them like a bull in a china shop. Not with a restraining order preventing him from setting foot in any part of the hospital while Tara was on duty.

'Not that a R/O is going to do that much good for her,' Van Dusen mused. "That crazy excuse for a federal agent is the father."

Tara nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. Her hands shook in his. She didn't feel anything like the poised, self - confident pediatric surgeon. Her experiences with Kohn made her feel like a frightened, insecure teenager.

"Has he violated the restraining order lately?"

She shook her head. "Not here, at least. It's the one bit of freedom I have."

"Didn't you change your phone number and the locks on your apartment door?" Van Dusen inquired.

"Yes, not that it does that much good. He just calls the phone company and gets my new telephone number. I let the phone go to the answering machine. He gets pretty nasty about that. After an hour of that, he'll come to the door and start banging on it, and when I don't answer, he calls a locksmith and has the door picked open for him."

Van Dusen shook his head. He didn't doubt Kohn was capable of such abuses of power. He'd seen the agent's nasty attitude on display at the hospital before Tara got the restraining order.

"My landlord's already started eviction proceedings against me. He's received too many complaints from the other tenants!" Tara added morosely.

"And the police are no help, I assume?"

Tara sighed wearily. "It's getting to the point where the precinct is hesitant to send a car when I call."

"Why?"

Tara glared at her colleague. 'Relax, he's trying to help!' She willed herself not to scowl at her colleague. "Because every time they show up, Josh - Kohn - shows his Federal badge. Even though the R/O says he has to stay more than 200 yards from me, the fact that he's a Fed makes it difficult for the locals."

"That's what we pay them for!" Van Dusen growled.

"There's already enough trouble between the two jurisdictions. I don't want to be the one adding to it," Tara explained wearily.

"So he gets a free pass while you take all the blame? That's not fair!"

"Tell me about it," she retorted. "I'm considering leaving town. This pregnancy is going to make that more difficult."

"Kohn doesn't have to know about it. You could leave town, get established somewhere safe, and keep your baby!"

Tara smiled grimly. "If only it were that easy! I could leave town, but Kohn would use his powers as an agent to trace me. No matter where I'd go, what disguise I'd take, he'd be after me like bees after pollen!"

"Where will you go if you leave?" Van Dusen asked. He didn't like that idea for Tara was a brilliant surgeon. More than that, she was the best neo - natal Chicago Presbyterian had seen in years. But if she had any chance of getting free of Agent Kohn, Van Dusen knew she had to take it.

"As far away from here as possible," Tara replied resolutely. "If he learns of this pregnancy, there's no guarantee he'll think the baby is his. I won't be his punching bag any longer!"

Van Dusen was encouraged to hear some of her old spunk in her voice. That fire had been missing from her demeanor for too long.

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied, releasing her hands from his warm grasp.

"That's why I wanted you to do the test. I know you detest Kohn as much as I do. Should he ever find out, he can't claim the test was doctored."

"Don't count on it, Tara. That man is psycho enough to think everyone is involved in a conspiracy against him."

Tara smiled wanly. "Gee, thanks for the support!" She stood up and rested her hand on her colleague's chest. "If things had been different -"

Van Dusen smiled wanly, covering her hand with his. "I'm not blonde and ride a Harley, Tara. But I'll always be your friend." They gazed at each other for a moment, then Tara nodded and slipped out the door.

Van Dusen stood looking at the closed door for some time after she left. "Good luck, Tara. You'll need it."

She'd believed leaving Chicago in the dead of night was the best thing to do. She put in for her unused vacation time, requesting she start as quickly as possible. For once, the scheduling office responded affirmatively to her request.

She'd already stared to pack when the apartment manager handed her the eviction notice. She'd not contested the process, using the 30 day notice to make a break for it.

Luck seemed to be with her, as Agent Kohn was sent to Washington, DC for a week's training. He didn't know about the eviction nor about her approved vacation time. The day he left was the day Tara escaped Chicago.

She'd driven to Canada, where she sought out an abortion clinic. Though she'd toyed with the idea of leaving town and assuming a new identity in order to keep the child, she knew deep in her heart that plan would never work because of Kohn's Federal resources.

Once he returned to Chicago and found she'd moved, Kohn had wasted no time in moving mountains to find her. She knew it'd be a matter of time before he located her. He'd proved her right when he'd traced her to Charming. She knew when she heard his voice on the phone that she'd made the right decision in terminating the pregnancy.

This child was different. There was no need for her to give up her child or end the pregnancy. Kohn was no longer a threat, and despite Jax's current state of mind, she felt he would eventually come around to accepting the idea of a blood brother for Abel.

She turned over, thumping the pillow with her fist. She was tired, but couldn't sleep without Jax beside her. The house was just too silent. No baby sounds from the nursery, no snoring from Jax. The only noise came from outside; crickets chirping, the hoot of an owl, barking dogs in the distance, and an occasional siren.

'I'll go to the clubhouse in the morning and demand to talk to Jax. I'll tell him about the baby,' she decided resolutely. She turned over onto her back again and stared up at the ceiling, imagining the outcome of her conversation with Jax. Her eyes closed as she gave in to sleep at last, comforted by the thought that the good news would bring them back together.

Alex's internal alarm clock snapped his eyes open. Though he knew it was morning, the bedroom was as dark as night.

He relaxed in the darkness, one arm curled protectively around his wife as he stared at the ceiling. He knew the room well enough that he didn't need light to know the room's layout. Ever since that first night he'd spent with Cat, she'd made some subtle changes with his comfort in mind.

His eyes moved to the opposite wall where the television stood. The 'shrine' to her green - eyed boyfriend had been transferred to the 'Charming Pawse' office. In it's place rested a large framed poster of the characters Peter Fonda's and Dennis Hopper portrayed in 'Easy Rider'. The pair were riding their bikes on a desert two lane highway, followed by a long line of famous and not - so famous bikers, including Arthur Fonzarelli and the T - Birds from 'Grease 2'.

'I know she thinks of me whenever she listens to that song about the 'Cool Rider'!' he grinned, his hand idly stroking her hair. 'Who else would she think of?'

Under the poster sat a 32 inch tube television, along with the video game units and a library of games. Cat preferred puzzle games, but there were a few driving and action games that he enjoyed. especially the ones related to 'The Batman'.

Her stuffed animal collection had been relocated to the library where June slept. Alex tried to tell himself the plush animals wouldn't harm him, but Cat herself knew how powerful phobias could be.

'I know she's got one of her own about being near cars in dark tight places. Somethin' about the tires makes her nervous.' It was that empathy that caused her to recognize his own discomfort around her 'critters', so that she quietly relocated them to the library.

He tried to tell himself the plush animals were nothing to fear as he didn't want to appear weak in front of her. It was all he could do select a book or turn on the stereo on his own. Cat's occasional presence in the library didn't always keep his agitation under control. She never commented on his weakness, which he appreciated.

Only Ming, the ancient stuffed Siamese she'd had since childhood remained in the bedroom. But he was stored safely in the drawer of her night stand, and only came out of hiding when Alex was away.

The only knick knack he had any direct involvement in was the picture of Bill that had sat on her bed table. Alex demanded she return it to its' rightful place.

"But, doesn't it bother y'all to have another man watchin' us?"

"I'm not afraid of your husband's ghost!" he added defiantly. "I'm here, and nothin's scarin' me off, so put it back!"

There was a large dresser on his side of the room, along with a walk in closet. The lounge chair, the bed, and two bed tables made darker splotches against the inky darkness.

On the other side of the bedroom was Cat's rocking chair, with a floor lamp to one side and a small table for books. The door to the bathroom was on that same side. A sensor night light gave a little illumination whenever someone crossed the threshold.

Blackout curtains kept any outside light - either sun or streetlamp - from filtering inside. Cat's light sensitivity required the added window covering behind the wooden blinds. It was the only room designed to keep light from disturbing her.

The bedroom was a soothing environment. He felt safe there despite the darkness. The added incentive was that Cat was always there

Cat lay curled on her side, her head resting on his chest. Her arm was out of the sling and rested on his stomach, her other hand rested lightly on his balls. His cock waved slightly with each of her exhalations, like a tree branch being moving in a gentle breeze.

He grinned and drew her closer, wishing there was some way he could draw her inside his skin. It seemed that he could never get physically close enough to her. Despite all their time together, that feeling still surprised him from time to time.

He listened to her rhythmic breathing and thought back over the previous evening. Without realizing it, he slipped into that place where he wasn't fully asleep but not entirely awake.

While the women were clearing the table, Alex received a text from Jax. 'Leaving 6pm Stockton Airfield. Elliot Air. Pack light. Church first thing in AM.'

He frowned at the message before texting a brief acknowledgment. 'Shit! Changes a few things I had in mind.' He snorted with disgust, closing the phone with an audible 'snap' and tossing it onto the table in front of him.

June and Cat exchanged glances at the dissatisfied sounds issuing from the table behind them.

"I gotta bad feelin' about that, chick," June whispered.

"So do I. Likely somethin' to do with the club," Cat replied quietly. "Usually doesn't annoy him, like that. Hate to ask, but would y'all mind -"

"Removin' myself from the line of fire?" June whispered conspiratorially. "Don't mind if I do!"

June padded away for her bedroom. "G'nite, kids. I'm gonna go enjoy a good, long, hot soak in the tub. After all, three can be a crowd sometimes!" she called over her shoulder.

Alex opened his mouth to make a lecherous suggestion, but Cat effectively stopped him by placing her good hand over his mouth. He frowned and nipped her palm.

"Owtch! And you call me a vampire?" she yelped, shaking her hand and glaring at him. "What the Hell's the big idea?"

"That's what ya get for tryin' to silence me, woman!" he chuckled, licking his lips where her hand had been. "Needs salt," he added.

"Huh! Most people think I'm salty enough," she retorted.

"Just your language."

"You're gonna pay for that!" she growled, rubbing her hand on her thigh. It didn't hurt, and he hadn't even left a bite mark. Just a small red mark showed where he'd sucked on her palm as he nipped it.

"I intend to!" he laughed, casting a glance behind him as he heard June's delighted snicker in the hallway, followed by the decisive 'thud' of the bathroom door.

The cats had been fed and settled down for after dinner naps in the living room. Cat reached into the refrigerator for a beer, popping the cap and handing it to Alex. He took a long pull from the bottle while she filled a glass with crushed ice and slid into the chair across from him.

"OK, stud muffin, now that it's just the two of us, wanna tell me who busted your chops for the second time today?" She pointed at the fresh bruises on the side of his face.

"Went to see Lumpy today on club business," Alex replied.

Cat crunched some ice, gazing speculatively at him. "I don't think Lumpy caused all that damage!"

Alex glared at her, his expression clearly warning her to behave herself. "I didn't say he did. Kozik challenged me to a boxing match."

"And he lost again."

"Of course," Alex grinned triumphantly before taking another pull from his beer. "Did ya know anything about what's goin' on down on Liberty Street?"

"A little. Lumpy tried to talk to me a few times after the business owners meetin's. The problem was that either Hale or his lackey Croucher was always hangin' around, so he didn't get to tell me much."

"What did he tell ya?"

"That someone was buyin' out all the businesses. It started about the same time that Zobelle and LOAN started stirrin' shit."

"So why the fuck didn't ya tell me?" There was a definite note of hurt in his voice.

Cat munched more ice. Her contemplative smile made him more agitated.

"C'mon, woman!" Alex growled. "This is Lumpy we're talking about! It's not a laughing matter, dammit!"

"I'm well aware of that, love," she replied quietly, unfazed by his sudden display of temper. "Lumpy asked me to keep mum. Said he didn't want all y'all distracted from all the trouble that ass twat was causin'."

Alex felt momentarily chagrined over his brief display of temper. 'Figures she'd be lookin' out for me! When am I gonna quit doubtin' her motives?'

"It's OK, love. You're worried about Lumpy. Don't blame y'all. Obviously whoever's behind the buy out is gettin' more insistent with Lumpy."

"You catch on fast," he replied approvingly, tipping his beer at her in a salute. "It couldn't come at a worse time."

She pointed at the cell phone laying on the table between them. "The Belfast trip."

Alex started to raise his beer to his mouth, then lowered it to the table, wrapping both hands around it. "We leave tomorrow night."

"I see," she sighed wearily. "I was gonna have Lumpy over for Sabbath supper this weekend - "

"Go ahead, baby. I trust Lumpy to stay overnight without me around."

"Gee thanks!" she grumbled sarcastically.

"You know I trust ya, baby!" he protested.

"Yeah, I know," she murmured quietly, her gaze dropping to the table.

Her quiet tone of voice eloquently broadcast her feelings. She'd been mentally preparing herself for their departure ever since the club had learned that Abel was in Belfast.

"I've got a bad feelin' about this trip, love," she added. "Been wrackin' my brain tryin' to come up with a cover story for all y'all's absence when the hearin' comes up. A leaky sieve would hold more water than any of my ideas!"

"We won't be gone long, baby," he assured her, taking her uninjured hand in his. His thumb absently stroked the back of her hand.

"Long enough for the judge to throw all y'all in jail for a long time for not showin' up!" she barked.

He grinned in that superior male manner that always annoyed her. 'She always barks like that when she's worried about me. I can't get enough of it!'

Cat didn't see that grin. Her gaze had dropped to the table. A faint blush gave her face some much needed color. "Shit! I'm sorry, love! That was uncalled for! It's just -"

"It's a'right, baby. Your bark's never wounded my male ego," he assured her. "Appears that the local courts don't dance to Jacob Hale's tune."

"Are you tellin' me there won't be a hearin' after all?"

It was Alex's turn to drop his gaze from hers. "Sorry, baby. We weren't that lucky. The hearing's just been pushed back a couple of weeks."

"I should've known better," she sighed wearily. "Care to fill me in?"

"Best ya don't know the particulars, baby. Trust me on this one," he pleaded. He'd grown to count on her quiet support of him and the club in the last few months. Unlike the Donna drama, he couldn't confide in her until the time was right.

Cat's good eye flashed green fire, indicating the depth of her hurt and surprise at his answer. 'I thought we were past this 'need to know' shit!' She willed herself to shrug uncaringly at his response, but Alex wasn't fooled.

"Listen, baby -"

She held up her hand and stood up. "Guess you'd better start packin'," she interjected before he could continue. 'I don't want him compromisin' himself! Best to leave the words unsaid than promise somethin' he might not be able to deliver on later!'

Alex upended the beer bottle, taking another long pull from it before replying, "Yeah. You comin' with?"

"Gonna go sit outside and get some fresh air," she replied with a lightness she didn't feel.

"OK." He replied dejectedly, downing the last of the beer while she limped to the back door, stealthily slipping out before Ebony sensed her intention. Alex watched her settle slowly into one of the yard chairs and draw a cigarillo from her jacket pocket.

"Damn! She's not happy. Can't blame her, either," he growled to the frustrated Ebony.

The cat sat glaring at the closed door, tail lashing angrily back and forth across the floor and turned his golden glare on Alex. The cat's expression indicated that he felt his purrson wasn't too pleased that Alex was leaving her on her own - again.

"Don't give me the stink eye, cat!" Alex snarled warningly. "I'm not happy about leavin' her again. I don't have a choice! Ya know she understands that."

Ebony gave a disbelieving snort and stalked away with his tail held high in the air. The large feline crawled onto one of the television room recliners and curled up into an inky ball of fur, wrapping his tail around his nose and closing his eyes.

Alex huffed at the cat, though he agreed with the feline's opinion. He wanted to go out and sit with her, but he knew her moods well enough to know Cat needed some space for the moment. Anything he might try to say would add fuel to a smouldering fire he didn't feel up to fighting. He turned away from the back door and trudged to their bedroom.

He stopped in the office to retrieve his passport. Cat had put all their important papers in a lock box in one of the file cabinets. He had a key to the box, and was relieved to find the passport was still valid.

'Glad it's still here,' he noted, slipping the small booklet in his back pocket and returning the locked box to the file drawer. 'Not as easy to get into Ireland without 'em as it is Canada. Patrols aren't as easy to avoid as they are in the Great White North.'

He threw his duffel onto the bed, not too surprised to find that Cat had taken the liberty of unpacking it. It didn't surprise him that his dirty clothes had been washed and put away for him, either.

'One of the positive aspects of marriage,' he smirked. 'Someone else handles the dirty laundry!'

He threw clothing onto the bed, intending to stuff it in the bag. The bag of Charming Pawse coffee would go in the bottom of the bag so his clothes would hide it from his brothers.

Cat gingerly lowered herself into the metal chair she'd shared earlier with Alex. The metal had gone cool with the advent of night, but she imagined his strong arms holding her close to his warmth.

She started to light one of her cigarillos, then thought better of it and put it back in her jacket pocket. 'I don't need to sit out here smokin' and poutin' just 'cause Alex didn't share somethin' with me! I know if he could, he would." she sternly reprimanded herself.

She tilted her head towards the sky, staring at the stars above. 'He probably thinks I'm out here poutin' like a spoiled female that didn't get her way.' She felt chagrined at her behavior. 'He wouldn't be too far off the map, either.'

The situation wasn't easy for either of them, and she knew she wasn't making things any easier for him by behavin' like her eldest cousin, known by the family as 'the little princess'.

'I'm not gonna make a big deal outta this,' she resolved. 'He already feels bad enough about havin' to leave so soon. Watchin' me mopin' around ain't gonna make either of us feel any better!'

She sighed and stood up. "Time to get in there and behave like he needs me to be, not like some damn fool woman!" she resolutely limped back to the house. She slipped inside before Ebony could leap from the recliner to try for another escape.

"Y'all just don't quit, do ya, big boy!" she leaned down to stroke the large feline's head. He meowed indignantly at being denied his heart's desire again, then butted his head against her hand in an affectionate manner, demanding to be scratched under the chin.

She obliged the feline with a few skirtches, then patted his back again. "Go on back to sleep with ya, furball!"

She limped to the pantry where she had some of the Snicker Bar Muffins stashed, retrieving a week's worth. "At least it's a week's worth for most people!" she remarked ruefully. "Knowin' Alex, he'll wolf 'em all down in one day!"

She placed the air - tight packages in a paper bag, and neatly folded over the opening, which she sealed with scotch tape.

The rustle and rattle made by the bag alerted the other two cats that something involving food was happening in the kitchen. They raced in, meowing at the top of their lungs for something to eat.

"All y'all can't be hungry!" she protested. "You just had your supper a little while ago!"

Three felines butted their heads against her legs, meowing insistently for a treat. Misty stood on her hind legs against Cat's leg, reaching with her front paws for the paper bag.

"All right! All right! I'll give all y'all some treats!" she capitulated, placing the bag on the counter and holding up the foil package of crunchy treats. She poured some of the contents into her palm, then held her palm out for the cats to take the morsels from her.

The loud pleas for sustenance were quickly replaced with purrs of contentment and the sound of munching as the trio hunkered down to gobble their treats. Cat smiled indulgently at them, petted their backs and ears, then retrieved her package and limped on towards the master bedroom.

She called out a cheerful "Good night, kittenface!" to June, who was still splashing about in the tub.

"Nite, chick! I'd tell y'all to sleep well, but I have a feelin' neither of you will do much of that!" June called through the door.

"Fuck y'all!" Cat retorted good naturedly.

"I love y'all, but not that way!" June laughed merrily.

Cat smiled as she continued on into the bedroom to find Alex stuffing clothes into his duffel without folding them.

"I'm sure they didn't teach y'all to pack your duffel like that in the Marines!" she grinned, limping to his side.

"Packin's packin'," he retorted, glancing out the side of his eye at her. He felt relieved that she was smiling at him, and her eye was glinting with playful mischief. "What's in the bag?"

"The other half of your care package," she explained, nudging him out of her way with her hip. She set the paper bag on the bed and upended the duffel, allowing his clothes to fall onto the bed.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! That's my packin' you're unpackin'!" he protested.

"So that's what y'all call it! Sit down and watch an expert! You might learn somethin'!" she retorted.

Alex sprawled across the bed, cradling his head on his palm. He watched through hooded eyelids as she placed the two care packages in the bottom of the duffel along side his shaving kit. She then rolled his clothes into tubular shapes, placing each item inside the duffel so that the care packages and his kit were well padded and concealed.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she closed the duffel bag. "Now y'all won't have to worry about wrinkled clothes!"

"Don't expect 'em to come back packed that way."

Cat grinned mischievously at him. "Of course not! Doesn't fit into your Neanderthal image!"

Alex swept the duffel onto the floor and grabbed her in his arms. The sudden move made her laugh more like a shriek of alarm and made him grin wolfishly.

"I'll show ya caveman behavior, a'right!" he growled, nuzzling the faint scar on her throat.

"Y'all are incorrigible - and insatiable!" she squeaked, pushing his mouth away from her throat. "That goatee tickles!"

"Ya shouldn't have admitted that, baby!" he remarked, his eyes twinkling at her.

Cat scrambled up from the bed. "Honestly! Y'all have a one track mind!"

"Then c'mon back here and let me have at it!" he suggested.

"In a minute. I want ya to come into the office with me."

Alex frowned in consternation. "We've already done it in there a few times!"

Cat rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Be serious, love! There's somethin' I wanna show ya; now's better than in the mornin'."

"Somethin' tells me this ain't gonna be as much as fun," he mumbled, reluctantly following her to the office.

June darted across the hall from the half bath into the guest room/library as they exited the bedroom. Alex grinned wolfishly at her as they passed her open door.

"Damn! Hoped we'd catch a glimpse of ya in the altogether!" he leered, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"Who's we?" Cat retorted. "Y'all know that ain't my bend!"

"Sorry, stud!" June added from the safe confines of her fluffy floor length robe. "Y'all are just gonna have to make do with a nekkid Cat instead!"

"That's doable," he replied.

"Good answer," Cat hissed under her breath. She grabbed his hand and hauled him into the office, closing the door on June's delighted laugh and cheery good night.

Cat shoved him into the office chair, glaring at his outrageous flirtation with her best friend. "Y'all make sure you remember who you're livin' with, buster!" she growled.

Alex's hand caressed the snarling jaguar ring on his left hand. "Always, baby. Now what is it ya wanted to show me?"

Cat leaned over him to log onto her email account and open the file she'd sent herself from the coffeehouse. Unable to resist the temptation in front of him, Alex's hands settled over her breasts. To his delight, the only thing between his questing fingers and her skin was her shirt.

"I see ya let the slaves go free," he murmured.

"Behave yourself, buster, or they won't get any freer!" she slipped her injured arm out of the sling so she could use both hands to pry his fingers away from her chest. She firmly placed them on her hips, where his hands wouldn't be such a distraction.

Too late, she realized she'd just made it easier for his hands to travel inside her shirt to the twin globes he'd been fondling. "That's better!" he sighed in contentment.

"Would y'all please pay attention?"

"I am payin' attention," he replied earnestly, his fingers working both nipples until they were stiff, erect buds.

"I meant," Cat squirmed out of his reach while trying to work the computer controls, "to the computer screen!"

"Spoil sport!" he pouted, folding his hands in his lap, right over the tell - tale bulge in his crotch.

Cat shook her head and stood up, moving behind the chair where she'd be safe from his rushing hands and roaming fingers. She laid her uninjured hand on his shoulder for a moment, then slid her hand inside his shirt to rest against his heart.

"Now who's misbehaving'!" he complained, covering her hand with his.

"I'm adult enough to control my more primitive urges, caveman!" she grinned. "See if you can take your mind outta the gutter long enough to look this over."

She pointed to the screen. The folder had finally loaded to display the announcement about her intention to run for city council.

"Is this what you and CJ were workin' on?" he inquired, leaning forward to study the document.

"It is," she affirmed. "This will show up at 9AM in the 'What's New' portion of the website. If y'all have any second thoughts about my throwin' my hat in the ring, love, speak now or forever hold yer piss."

Alex rolled his eyes at her humor, then turned his full concentration on the file. Cat watched his progress, then activated the video clip when he'd read down to that portion. He laughed at the lyrics of the song. "That's great, baby! Puts a big ass hole in Hale's argument against ya!"

"Then y'all are OK with this?"

"Damn straight, baby! Wish I could be there when ya have your first press conference!"

"So do I, love. But there'll be other opportunities for y'all to show your support. Findin' Abel is more important than gettin' hounded by reporters," she replied.

Alex stood up to lean against the desk, blocking her view of the computer screen. "Have ya talked to Clay about runnin' for council?"

"No. Didn't intend to. It's part of my 'no strings attached' campaign," she huffed. "Would kinda defeat the whole idea, don't y'all think?"

Alex raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Don't get huffy with me, woman! It was a simple question. Are ya gonna fluff your tail every time the question comes up?"

Cat tried to glare up at him, but found herself smiling at him instead. "I hate it when you're right," she growled.

Alex started to preen with male superiority from her compliment. She couldn't resist needling him by adding, "Fortunately, it doesn't happen too often!"

Alex's eyebrows furrowed as he glared at her in mock outrage. "You're gonna pay for that one, woman!"

"Is that a threat or a promise?" she retorted challengingly, turning off the computer as she stood up.

Alex scooped her into his arms and carried her off into the bedroom. She yelped in surprise, then burst into delighted laughter at his fierce caveman scowl. "Laugh away, baby! I'll have ya moanin' with somethin' besides pain in a minute!" he growled, shoving the bedroom door closed with his foot. "Just remember," he added suavely, laying her gently on the bed, "I never make threats, and always keep my promises!"

"A little less talkin' and a little more action just might convince me!" she purred.

Anne Tyler peeked out the living room window for the umpteenth time. It was quiet and dark outside. Occasional spots of light dotted the street from the overhanging arc lamps resting on silver poles that had been dulled by exposure to the elements. She glanced at her watch, wincing at the early morning hour reflected by the glow - in - the dark face. The later the hour, the greater her fears and doubts grew. She didn't like the fact that June was behaving in a secretive manner, which was something she'd never done in their relationship.

"There's definitely something going on!" Tyler murmured aloud. "I don't like this one bit. It doesn't take this long to fax in a handful of reports to the US Attorney!" Tyler paced the lower level of the house again, her mind wondering back over the last few hours. There was something about Gemma Morrow's deposition that was nagged at her cop's intuition.

"It sounded too polished. Most people don't give flowing testimony when they're deposed. They're nervous, which makes their vocal pitch higher than normal and they speak fast as if they can't draw a full breath." Tyler mused to herself. "Gemma's voice never faltered. She breathed evenly and wasn't nervous. She talked like she'd committed a written statement to memory! But how? She had no way of knowing she'd be deposed so soon. Unless - " Tyler's stomach rolled, causing her to rush to the kitchen sink. She reached it just in time to spew what little bit of food she'd managed to eat down the drain. She spit a few times, then washed her mouth out with cold water, resting her head against the cold metal rim of the sink.

She now knew why the words Gemma had spoken were so familiar to her; it was nearly word for word what June had reported over the radio that day at the Hayes house in Galt. 'Gemma had left the house by the time June made that report!' Tyler thought miserably. 'There's only one way that she would've known all that detail! June gave it to her!' Tyler's stomach rolled threateningly again, though there was nothing left to bring up.

She lifted her eyes to the kitchen window above the sink just in time to see twin headlight beams illuminate the hedges along the back of the yard. 'Oh my God! She's home! I can't let her find me here!' Tyler raced to the stairway and on up to the stairs to the bedroom. She jumped into the bed, tersely willing herself to calm down. A rapid heartbeat or breathing would alert June that something was up.

'I have to behave as if I'm still clueless, otherwise June will know I suspect her and I'll never get the proof to take her down!' She concentrated on slowing her breathing and relaxing. She closed her eyes, reminding herself that June would expect her to be sound asleep and would be looking for rapid eye movements from her lover.

The front door opened and closed, then Tyler could make out June's light tread on the steps. The bedroom door opened, admitting a small glow from the hallway where a small lamp was left turned on. Tyler turned onto her side, as if instinctively moving from the light, breathing deeply and evenly.

June slipped inside, closing the door behind her. She removed her clothes, stripping completely before donning a pair of boy shorts and a tank top, then slid into bed next to Tyler. Tyler moaned as if she was just waking up.

"What time is it?" she murmured sleepily, though she was wide awake.

"Late. Sorry I woke you, baby," June whispered, slipping one arm under Tyler's shoulder. Tyler snuggled next to June, throwing one arm over her waist.

"Mmm. Glad you're home safe."

"Same here," June replied, patting Anne's shoulder comfortingly.

"What took so long?"

"Damn fax machine quit on me. Had to work on it for awhile to get the rest of the reports faxed."

"Mmmm. Sorry, baby." Tyler's heart sank. She knew that June was lying. 'Likely she doctored all the reports to support Gemma's statement!'

"It's all over now," June replied through a mighty yawn. She dropped a goodnight kiss on Tyler's head and settled herself more comfortably in the bed.

Tyler remained snuggled next to Stahl, pretending as if everything was right with her world. June's words seemed prophetic to her. She could only hope she could continue her act. 'June seems to have bought it so far!'

Beside her in the dark bedroom, June's eyes were wide open. She felt no guilt over making Tyler the fall guy. Someone had to take the rap, and that someone wasn't going to be June Stahl. 'I'll have to tread carefully. I can't let Tyler suspect anything, and can't afford to let her out of my sight.

'Jax shuddered his release, his dick pumping jets of warm liquid into the latex condom. He could feel Ima's hot wetness tighten around his shaft as he came, while she bucked underneath him, close to her own climax. Seconds later she cried out her own release. He could feel her tremors and rushing heat through the condom.

He collapsed on top of her, panting from the exertions. Ima's arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him inside her as she rode wave after wave of her own release.

He buried his face in the pillow, grateful that Opie or whoever had last tenanted the apartment had changed the bedclothes. 'For an experienced gash, she's tight as a virgin!'

He felt his cock soften and slide out of her. She protested the loss of him while he flopped onto his back. "Whew!" he exhaled.

"You said a mouthful, sweetheart!" Ima cooed, snuggling next to him. Her finger traced the outside of his nipple in a lazy spiral.

Jax reached out a hand and turned off the bedside lamp, pitching the room into darkness. "I'm whacked, darlin'. G'nite," he muttered, slipping his arm out from under her and turning so that his back was to her.

Unwilling to be cast aside so soon after sex, Ima snuggled against his back spoon style. She pushed her hand under his body while her other arm snaked across his side. Her hands linked together on his chest, effectively locking him to her.

"Sleep well, my darling Jax," Ima whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

'Oh, shit! She cannot be thinkin' I did this outta love!' His heart still raced from the wild sex they'd shared. That was all it was to him. Sex. A primal need satisfied. 'Ima's gonna have to understand that, crush or no crush. She's a means to an end.'

Ima was breathing deep and even, already sound asleep. He reached over to the bed table and withdrew a cigarette from the hard pack. His lighter flared briefly, lighting the tip of the cigarette, which glowed softly in the darkness. It brightened a moment as he inhaled, then resumed it's small orange glow.

He blew smoke through his nostrils as he thought about what he'd just done. It had been a deliberate act on his part. He knew that when he didn't come back to the house, Tara would assume that he had stayed overnight at the clubhouse and come looking for him.

'She'll come straight in here without knockin', see our clothes all over the floor, maybe Ima lyin' in bed next to me. She won't stay around long after that.'

He wondered, albeit belatedly, if turning to Tara's arch rival was the best way to force the doctor to accept the end of their relationship. 'Maybe a croweater or one of the other porn stars would've done the job. Maybe not. Too late to worry about that now.'

He stubbed out the cigarette and tried to relax. He was tired, but sleep was elusive. All he'd wanted to do after Gemma confessed to the gang rape was rid Charming of Ethan Zobelle and the League of American Nationalists.

He'd gotten rid of the scourge, but the price was almost more than he could bear. His mother, his son, his brothers, and now his woman were all being affected by circumstances he had no control over.

'I have to do this for Tara. She's not cut out for this life; never was. That's why she left all those years ago. I was foolish to think that we could make it work again. Kohn's no longer a threat to her; she's got a brighter future without me draggin' her down.'

He shifted slightly in the bed, ignoring Ima's soft moan of protest. He knew he'd have a roaring hard - on in the morning, and he'd take Ima again. A part of him hoped Tara would catch them going at it. He wanted to make absolutely sure that she'd never want to be with him again. Catching him in the act with Ima would insure that.

'Then I'm gonna have to deal with this gash,' Jax mused. 'She's obviously in love with me, and that ain't goin' anywhere. I love Tara. Always will. I can't trust Ima. She's never shown any loyalty to anyone but herself.'

Ima had quickly rushed to work for Georgie Caruso after Caracara had been shut down by the Feds. She'd claimed to be frightened by Caruso's initial attack on Lyla, but something about the story hadn't rung true with him.

Then there had been the prostitution bust a few weeks earlier. Thought all the evidence pointed to Darby, Ima had told Che if Unser that Jax was her boss.

'That really set Clay off on a rampage against the porn business! It made a tense situation much worse than it needed to be.'

When he went to talk to Ima at the police station, she'd claimed that she'd received an anonymous call two days before LuAnn was killed, offering her and some of the other girls 10 thousand dollars for two days' work helping Darby.

"Caracara can't do any filming with LuAnn dead!" she'd explained after being bonded out of jail by Caracara's lawyer. "I have bills to pay!"

Jax later determined that Zobelle had been the mysterious benefactor instead of Georgie. They'd already established that LOAN was behind Darby's push to bring the meth and prostitution trade to Charming.

Even though Ima had been willing to help the club with the Chinese gig, she'd done it for her own gain instead of for the club. The only one of the Caracara actresses who'd turned down her fee was Lyla.

'Ima's just a means to an end. I'll have to be abrupt with her later. It's the only thing she's gonna understand.'

Jax willed his body and mind to relax. He'd be no use to the club or his son if he didn't get some sleep.

Pete stifled a hefty yawn as he unlocked the back door to Charming Pawse. Adrian stood to one side as he operated the door, watching his co – worker's back as usual.

"Dude! You're not this tired after a day off! Too much hearty partying last night?" Adrian remarked.

"I should be so lucky," Pete mourned. He turned on the overhead light and deactivated the security alarm. "I knew I'd pay for it today, but I couldn't put down this murder mystery picked up at the library yesterday!"

"Better not let Miss Cat hear that you went to library instead of browsing through the book exchange!" Adrian grinned.

"C'mon, Adrian! You know she fully supports the local library!" Pete replied through another massive yawn.

"I hope the book was worth it, man," Adrian remarked.

"Definitely. The ending itself was worth losing sleep over! I haven't read a mystery that good in ages."

The pair worked through the opening routine, starting the coffees brewing and heating up the pastries for the morning rush. As they worked, the regular early morning customers lined up outside the front door, waiting for the stroke of six.

The two greeted each of the regulars by name as they filed past the door. Adrian started taking orders while Pete operated the latte/cappuccino machine. The pair worked well together, nearly able to anticipate each other.

While waiting for their orders, the customers wandered away from the counter to browse the book exchange or look over the community bulletin board. One of those regulars served on the city council and was the incumbent seeking re - election. He frowned at one particular item prominently displayed in front of his nose.

"Well, well, well!" Floyd chuckled behind James Croucher's back. "Looks like you've finally got some competition!"

"Maybe," he muttered darkly. "Just because someone is interested in running doesn't mean they'll follow through on it."

Floyd grinned broadly and reached past the Croucher to sign the petition. "Knowing Miss Cat the way I do, if she gets it in her head to do something, she'll go through with it!"

He turned away from the council member and called out, "Hey! Everybody take a look at this! Miss Cat's considering a run for city council!"

JC, the owner of the local bookstore down the street waved a clipboard in the air. "There's a petition over here, too!"

Several of the other customers pointed out clipboards with the petition and attached pen laying about the coffeehouse.

"It's also on the website!" Another customer added, holding up their smart phone. The customer had activated the link to the 'No Strings' song.

"Oh, this is good!" The smart phone customer crooned. "She's punched a big hole right in Croucher's best offense!"

Croucher seethed internally, though he maintained a stoic exterior. "It takes more than a catchy tune to win a campaign," he murmured.

Floyd grinned sardonically at Croucher. "Let's show her we're behind her and sign these petitions so she can get on the ballot!"

One by one, the early customers read through the petition, then affixed their signatures to the paper.

James Croucher continued to seethe with fury. He could barely wait for his order, and would've walked out if he hadn't already paid for it. 'Hale needs to hear about this!'

"Mr. Croucher!" Adrian called, placing a pastry bag and large to - go cup on the counter.

Croucher grabbed his order and hurried out of the coffeehouse without speaking to any of the other customers.

"Gee, wonder what's wrong with him?" Floyd inquired of no one in particular. His question was met with a flurry of laughter.

"Tell Miss Cat that I'm going to call the business owners and ask them to support her. She'll have the signatures she needs in no time!" Floyd informed the two employees when he picked up his order.

"I'll do that, Mr. Floyd," Pete replied absently. He was watching Croucher, who'd stopped on the sidewalk just outside the front door to animatedly talk on his cell phone. 'I've got a bad feeling about this!'

Floyd followed Pete's worried gaze. "Ah! Probably reporting this new development to Jacob Hale. He's been in Hale's pocket for years. This election is gonna get really interesting!"

He hefted his cup in salute to the two employees and sauntered out the front door. He was barely able to squeeze past the incensed council member, who glared impatiently at the barber.

"You might want to move a couple of steps either direction, Croucher," Floyd grinned. "Unless you enjoy getting poked in the back."

Croucher glared angrily at the barber, but stepped further away from the front door, listening to the ringing in his ear. 'C'mon, Hale! Answer!'

Jacob Hale's heart skipped a beat when his cellphone rang, vibrating on the bedside table to get his attention. He turned on the lamp and squinted at his cell phone, frowning at the early hour and the caller ID.

"This had better be damn important!" Hale growled sleepily.

"Why else would I risk calling you so early?" Croucher caustically retorted. "I just left Charming Pawse -."

"And you interrupted my sleep for that?" Hale asked incredulously.

"If you'd let a person finish a sentence, you might learn something!" Croucher snapped.

"I'm waiting. So far I don't hear anything worth losing sleep over."

"Then listen to this! Cat Marshall plans to run against me for the council seat in the primary!"

Hale didn't even bother to stifle a large yawn. "And you know this because?"

"Because I just read the petition she has all over that damn coffeehouse of hers. Floyd and several other customers already signed the thing!"

Hale rubbed his face with one hand. That wasn't welcome news. Though Croucher was full of his own importance and couldn't be trusted any further than Hale could throw him, he still needed Croucher to keep that council seat.

'A petition seeking interest doesn't make her bid a reality. Croucher's making a mountain out of a molehill as usual.'

"Did you hear what I said?" Croucher prompted, unnerved by Hale's continued silence.

"Every bit of it. Was she there when you saw the petition?" Hale replied icily.

"No, she wasn't. Heard that she's only allowed to work a few hours a day. So what are you going to do about this? If I lose, you stand to lose."

"I won't lose. Neither will you. Ms. Marshall made a mistake in throwing her hat in the ring. She's involved with that gang; the community won't stand for having Clay Morrow pull her strings."

"She's already thought of that!" Croucher complained irritably. He quickly explained about the lyrics to the Pinocchio song. She's got it up on the coffeehouse website, too!"

'Dammit! That woman's too smart for my own good!' Hale frowned in consternation, then smiled like a crocodile. "Let's see how she holds up under a surprise press conference!"

"Don't tell me you're in favor of this!" Croucher wailed.

"Don't get your drawers in a wad," Hale retorted. "Of course I'm not in favor of it. And once the press is done with her, she'll be done with this silly idea of hers."

"What are you going to tell the press?" Croucher inquired eagerly. Whatever Hale had in mind, he knew it would be a bombshell to the entrepreneur.

"Just wait. And maybe you should stake out Ms. Marshall's front yard. You might see something to brighten your day."

Hale closed his phone and opened the drawer to the bed table, removing a large manilla envelope. He opened it and pulled out the contents, a document sent by Ethan Zobelle to use against Cat Marshall.

Zobelle had written that Hale would find use for the document one day. He planted a firm kiss on the document then returned it to the envelope and rose from his bed.

'This day's gonna be pretty good after all!' he crowed, visualizing the rapid death of Cat Marshall's infant candidacy.