Charming Pawse From NS to Out Chapt IV Gonna Be a (Few) Showdown(s)

by wanderingchat

Dawn's first day of working for Cat gets off to a rocky start. Gemma thinks her position as Queen of the club is being ususrped. Business booms at 'Charming Pawse' and 'Lumpy's Gym'. Cat and the club figure out a way to meet the Irish demands for a large munitions run right under Roosevelt's nose. A political debate looms on the hoirzon for Cat.

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

From NS to Out

Chapter IV

Gonna Be a

(Few)

Showdown(s)

The men knew something had upset Gemma the minute she stormed into the visitation room. Though she greeted them with loving hugs and kisses, there was no mistaking the firm set of her jaw. Nor could they miss the furious glances she kept sending Cat when she and Dawn came in a few minutes later. They glanced from one woman to the other, noting that Tig's wife seemed unaware that Gemma was upset with her.

What none of them realized was that Gemma sensed she had a rival for the club's affection and trust. She'd sensed that ever since their return from Belfast. Gemma didn't like sharing her boys, even with their old ladies. She was especially unhappy that she'd been left out of the run to Rogue River.

Clay eventually pulled Gemma aside to a table well away from the club to talk privately. "What's goin' on between you and Cat?"

"She didn't ask me to come along on the gun run!" Gemma complained. "She can't do that. Hell, I've got to go to Klamath Falls anyway! It's not that far from Rogue River so she should go with me!" She was watching 'her boys' out of the corner of her eye and noticed Tig's angry response to the news Opie and Chibs had just given him. "Tig's not happy about it, either!"

"I can see that," Clay replied wryly.

"I don't blame him," Gemma observed huffily. "She's got no business makin' a long trip like that right now! She's still pretty weak."

"Yeah, I know. But we don't have a lot of choice. You know that, baby."

"Yeah?" Gemma challenged. "What the fuck am I? Chopped liver?"

"The Caddy doesn't have a false bottom that will keep Roosevelt from findin' the larger munitions," Clay pointed out. "The Challenger does. And that means involvin' Cat. Hell, she won't let anyone but Tig drive it."

"That fuckin' Roosevelt is becomin' a real pain in the ass!" Gemma snarled. "He's been all over town stickin' his nose in our business!" Gemma snorted. "Getting back to the topic at hand, I could ride shotgun in Cat's car, she could rest in the hotel while I visit Daddy and we could come back the next day!"

"Everything ya say makes sense, baby, but Cat's already made plans. It's her car, so it's her decision." Clay shrugged. "Besides, it's kinda hard to see the two of you havin' a pajama party!"

"Who's goin' with her?" Gemma asked roughly, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Koz's old lady." Clay shrugged.

"That bitch that had the hots for Jax?" Gemma gasped. "Cat chose her over me?" She caught sight of Cat leaning against the entrance to the visitation room, watching Tig speaking with his daughter. "We'll just see about that!"

Clay reached out and grasped his angry wife by the arm. "Siddown! You're not gonna confront her now!"

"Yeah," Gemma agreed, narrowing her eyes at Cat before turning back to gaze at her husband. "It'll wait until later."

'Why do I have a bad feelin' about this?' Clay sighed inwardly.

Gemma prodded Clay into telling her everything he knew about the gun run and Cat's plans. She didn't say anything about the situation in front of the club. 'I'll have plenty to say to her outside!' When the visitors had to say goodbye, Gemma rushed out ahead of Cat and Dawn. She leaned against her Caddy, giving her adversary a complete going over as the pair approached.

'She's let the highlights fade!' Gemma observed grimly. 'Jesus Christ! What's wrong with her?' She really didn't want to tutor another woman in the ways of being an old lady. Training Tara was nearly a full time job in itself and a waste of time if if the trainee was unwilling to learn from her example, which included grooming hints. "Cat! Can I talk to you for a minute?" She called out as the women walked by her.

Cat aimed her remote at the PT, which beeped cheerfully to indicate the doors were unlocked. "Go ahead and wait for me in the car, darlin'," she advised Dawn. "This won't take long."

Dawn continued on to the PT while Cat paused near Gemma's SUV. "What's on your mind, Gemma?"

"You know what's botherin' me!" Gemma hissed. "Why didn't you ask me to go with you tomorrow?"

Cat sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. The gesture reminded Gemma of her other complaints against the woman. "Don't take this the wrong way, Gemma. I just feel more comfortable with Ima."

"What the fuck do you mean by that?" Gemma snarled. "Who'd you come cryin' to after you had that fight with Tig?"

"You. And I appreciated your help," Cat replied.

"Really? Seems to me that ya would do a better job of showin' it! What's the big idea with lettin' your hair fade?" Gemma challenged. "And this clothing!"

'I really don't feel up to dealin' with her need for me to hail the Queen!' She fought the urge to roll her eyes and called on her limited reserves of patience. "Gem, I've not had the time nor the energy to do anything with my hair color. You know how busy things have been!"

Gemma continued to glare at her, though she felt a small twinge of conscience. 'True, she's runnin' the coffeehouse and 'Lumpy's Gym', plus dealin' with the spawn of Satan.' She narrowed her eyes and added, "All ya had to do was call and I'd have taken you to the hair salon!"

"I realize that, Gemma," Cat replied calmly. "But I'm not you. The highlights just aren't for me. As for my choice of attire, it's what I'm most comfortable wearin'. None of this is intended as rejection of y'all!"

"I just don't see how you can say you feel closer to Ima than me!" Gemma pressed.

"I sympathize with her situation as the underdog," Cat explained simply.

"What do you mean? I've been nice to you!" Gemma protested.

"Yes, you have. But Ima's been kinda left to fend for herself in learnin' to be an old lady."

"And you think you can help her?" Gemma smirked.

"I can pass on what I've learned," Cat shrugged. "And I know from prior experience what it's like to be unpopular."

"It's her own damn fault!" Gemma countered.

"I don't recall Jax keepin' his cod in his breeches!" Cat retorted dryly. "It takes two to do the mattress mambo, and no one held a gun to the Prince's head to make him screw Ima, no matter how all y'all wanna spin it!"

"You don't wanna get on my bad side, Cat," Gemma warned.

"I'm not tryin' to. If statin' the obvious truth makes that the case, I'm willin' to live with the fall out. Did y'all ever think that this attitude of entitlement might've been what makes me uncomfortable with you?"

"Do you really think Tig is goin' to allow ya to get away with this?" Gemma's eyes glittered dangerously.

"Tig doesn't own me, any more than Clay owns y'all," Cat replied quietly. "He can't dictate who I can be friends with, or who I choose to take along on a trip. Whether y'all like it or not, Ima is Kozik's choice, and she's my choice for this road trip!"

"We'll see about that!" Gemma huffed, sliding behind the wheel of her SUV and slamming the door.

"Oye! That made my hair hurt!" Cat sighed, limping to the the PT and climbing behind the wheel. She watched as Gemma's SUV screeched from the parking lot, leaving everyone, including the club, behind.

---

Clay placed a hand on Tig's shoulder, forcing him to lag behind their brothers as the club filed out of the visitation room. He glanced questioningly at the Prez, but Clay shook his head and nodded at the others. "Wait a minute," he muttered.

The group was heading to the commissary to place their order for the week. Tig didn't want to miss out on his 'fair' share of Snicker Bar Muffins, but he knew the Prez wouldn't hold him back without good reason.

Jax realized that Tig and Clay weren't keeping pace with them and glanced inquiringly over his shoulder. "You comin'?"

"You guys go ahead. We'll be there in a minute," Clay rumbled.

Tig crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He waited patiently for Clay to share what was on his mind.

"Gem's not happy with your girl," Clay announced once the others were out of earshot.

Tig lifted an eyebrow in inquiry, but remained silent. He was well aware of Gem's displeasure, but hadn't gotten anything out of Cat abou it. 'She only said it was Gemma's problem and clammed up on me. Guess Gemma gave Clay an earful.'

"She feels snubbed that Cat's not takin' her on the run tomorrow."

"Nothin' I can do about it. It's her call," Tig shrugged.

"That's what I told Gemma."

"So what's the problem?" Tig growled.

"You know how Gemma gets when she wants somethin'," Clay reminded his SAA. "I suspect she's gonna give Cat the third degree at the earliest opportunity."

"Which means she'll pounce in the parkin' lot!" Tig sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand. "Shit!"

"Gem said if she goes with Cat, she can bunk with her in Klamath while Gem visits her Dad," Clay added. "Maybe that would make ya less concerned for your girl's welfare."

"It would," Tig agreed, "but I know my wife. Even if I were to present that idea to her, she won't change her mind. She's kinda stubborn that way."

"Are ya sure?"

"Are ya orderin' me to make my woman change her plans?" Tig's eyes narrowed in anger. "It's not like Gemma has to go on this run!"

"Nah!" Clay grinned, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Just pointin' out an alternative ya can throw out for Cat's consideration."

"I'll pass," Tig rumbled. "Gem's just gonna have to get over it."

"Thought ya love Gemma," Clay remarked.

"I love my wife more."

---

"Wow! What's wrong with Mama Gemma?" Dawn inquired.

"I have some club business to handle tomorrow and she's not comin' along," Cat explained. She stared straight ahead, unwilling to let Dawn see that her reference to Gemma as 'Mama' had any affect on her.

"Why not? She's the Prez' wife!" Dawn insisted. 'I thought sure that comment about Gemma would leave a mark! Unless she's a better actress than I thought for!'

"She's just not," Cat replied in a tone of voice that warned the young woman not to pursue the matter.

"Oh - kay," Dawn muttered, turning her head to look out the window to hide her smile of triumph. 'Yeah, she was just posin'. I scored a hit!'

A few miles passed in silence. Cat was annoyed by Gemma's high handedness. 'She can't just swoop in and change things to her likin'! Not while I have any say in the matter! If she'd asked, that'd be one thing. Just because she's the 'Queen' doesn't give her an automatic 'in'!'

Despite the brooding silence, Dawn felt happy about her visit with her father. 'It went better than I expected. At least he didn't push me too hard on openin' up to his wife. I'm not so sure she's all she appears to be. That sucked findin' out that Fawnie visited!' She thought petulantly. She risked a sideways glance at her chauffeur. 'Cat looks pretty angry. Neither she nor Mama Gemma looked very pleased with the other. If I could find out what happened, maybe I could use it to my advantage!'

Cat wasn't willing to confide in her step - daughter about the conversation with Gemma. It concerned club business, which made it none of Dawn's business. 'I imagine Clay got an earful from Gemma durin' visitation, and will probably get another earful when he calls tonight. That's goin' to trickle down to Alex, and he's not goin' to be a happy camper!'

That meant Alex would have no choice but to inform her the plans for the trip would have to change. 'He'll have to do what Clay says, whether he wants to or not in this case,' Cat observed wryly. 'That will make it more difficult to put up with Gemma!' She pondered the situation a few more minutes before coming to a sudden realization. 'Gemma's not bothered about not bein' asked to go along! She's jealous that the guys asked me to do it in the first place! Even though the guys love her and always will, she thinks that because they came to me this time that she's bein' replaced! That's gotta be it!'

As the PT passed the Charming town limits, Dawn broke the brooding silence to remark, "I really enjoyed myself the last couple of days, Cat. Thanks for lettin' me stay overnight."

"You're welcome, Dawn. Glad y'all enjoyed yourself."

"I really did," she insisted. "I never expected the Siamese to make up to me."

"He's picky and knew how to pick a good one," Cat grinned. 'Actually, the old boy is an attention ho, but why spoil the moment for her? She feels accepted by someone, that's more important.'

"So I'm good for next week?"

Cat glanced at her passenger, then back to the road. "As long as y'all continue to behave yourself like we discussed."

"That's fair," Dawn acknowledged. A Honda Civic was parked on the street in front of Cat's house. She sniffed as the PT pulled into the drive and Pete got out of the car to meet them.

"Y'all behave yourself around Pete," Cat advised her step - daughter. "Don't bother tryin' to make his work life difficult like y'all did on the ride over yesterday."

"I'll behave!" Dawn promised. She wanted to catch the woman off guard and ask about the confrontation with Gemma. Before she could say a word, Cat opened the driver's door. Dawn wasn't about to try anything while Pete was in earshot.

Pete held the door for his employer and waited for her to climb out of the car. "I'll take Miss Dawn home for you," he stated to explain his presence to Dawn.

"I appreciate that, darlin'. Her bag's on the floorboard in back. It's been kind of a long day!" She turned to Dawn and added, "Thanks for your help." She limped off to the back gate, adding to herself, 'And for visitin' your father. That really made his day! Too bad y'all had to be paid to do it!'

---

"I spoke with Tig about the gun run, but you're just gonna have to sit this one out," Clay informed Gemma when he called that evening. Tig was standing at the pay phone next to Clay, talking with his woman on that same subject.

"I don't believe it! You're going along with this?" Gemma hissed.

"I'm not gonna to make Tig order his wife to take ya along," Clay informed her brusquely.

"Well, I think she's out of line!"

"And I think you're makin' too much outta this, baby!" Clay insisted. "Look at it this way, without havin' a passenger to worry about, you'll have more time to spend with your Dad."

"That's true," Gemma replied thoughtfully. "Can you believe she sympathizes with Ima? Even feels more comfortable with her than me?"

"No surprise there," Clay laughed. " You can be pretty intimidating when you wanna be. Besides, Cat's got a big heart for such a small person. Maybe it's good that's she's servin' as a buffer between you, Tara, and Ima."

"She also said somethin' uncomplimentary about Jax earlier," Gemma reported.

"So that's what has your drawers in a wad!" Clay chuckled. " What'd she say?"

"That Jax should've kept his dick in his pants where Ima was concerned!" Gemma grinned.

The light note in his wife's voice was music to Clay's ears. It meant she was beginning to see things his way. "She's right. It was Jax's decision to pull the dick move, and doin' it with Tara's worst enemy made it rankle more with her. Seems like it's gotten under your skin, too."

"Yeah," Gemma replied.

"You just don't like to hear anyone criticize your boy," Clay stated.

"True dat."

"Besides, Jax and Tara made up; she's carryin' his kid, so why don'tcha lighten up on Ima a bit? Kozik's chosen her, so she's gonna be around awhile. The rest of the old ladies are gonna follow your example. If you're hostile to Ima, they're gonna do the same thing."

"With one exception," Gemma noted dryly.

"You don't have to welcome her with open arms," Clay reminded her, choosing to ignore Gemma's remark. "Just be cordial. Leave the skateboard at home."

"Fine!" Gemma snorted. 'I'll just deal with this in the mornin'!'

"Appreciate that, baby."

---

Colleen was sitting on the couch waiting for Dawn to come home. She was irritated that her daughter had spent the previous night at her father's house with 'that woman', instead of coming home and returning to work the next day.

She heard a car door close and peeked between the slats of the window blinds. She jealously watched her daughter wave at the driver of a black PT Cruiser idling in front of her house. She knew it was 'that woman's' car. It was hard not to notice the coffeehouse logo stuck on the side. Her temper didn't improve as she watched Dawn trudge reluctantly to the front door.

"Hi, Mom! Why is the house all closed up when it's so nice outside?"

"Why bother?" Colleen snapped. "You certainly don't seem excited about being home! Did you have that good of a time with your 'step mommie dearest'?"

Dawn let her overnight bag fall to the floor. She sighed wearily as she dropped into the easy chair near the couch. "Don't get upset, Mother. I'm just tired. It was a busy weekend."

"Guess she worked you like a slave!" Colleen snorted.

"It was hard work, but it was fun, Mom!" Dawn protested. "Cat treated me just like one of the staff!"

"I'll bet she did!" Colleen smirked, letting out a stream of cigarette smoke. "She had to so she wouldn't be accused of playin' favorites!"

"Not exactly," Dawn muttered mutinously. "No one treated me special just because of my relationship to her!"

"If you say so," Colleen shrugged. "Did you get paid?"

"I'll get a paycheck next week when I report to work."

"Why the fuck do you have to wait so long for your money?"

"Because I'm an employee, Mother! That means I get paid an hourly wage. by check with taxes taken out like the rest of the employees!" Dawn retorted.

"How much are you getting?" Colleen unconsciously rubbed her fingers together.

'As if I'm goin' to tell you!' Dawn's eyes narrowed. "Same as her other part time employees."

"Smart ass! You're not going to tell me your hourly wage?"

"It's none of your business!" Dawn snarled.

"It is if I decide to start collecting rent from you!"

"Jesus Christ, Mother! I'm only getting 20 hours a week!" Dawn cried.

"Then maybe I'll take a quarter of that for rent!" Colleen smiled nastily. She pointed at the bag and added, "I suppose that's full of dirty clothes you expect me to wash!"

"Surprise! I washed 'em last night!"

"Well!" Colleen sniffed. "You're certainly making yourself at home at your step - mother's!"

"It's Daddy's house, too!" Dawn spat. She leaped from the chair, grabbed her overnight bag, and flounced out of the living room to the sanctity of her bedroom. 'I should've known Mom would take the offense about my staying the night in Charming! I just didn't expect her to take part of my pay for it!'

Colleen remained seated in the living room, smoking and thinking. 'Why should I settle for a paltry amount of money from Dawn, when I can get a shitload of cash from that bitch?' She recalled that her nemesis had offered a job to both of her daughters. 'With Fawn working elsewhere, that money can do me a lot of good!'

She forcefully stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. She was maliciously giddy over the idea of squeezing more money out of her rival. She didn't waste time dialing the hated telephone number.

---

Cat had just sat down to her evening meal while waiting for Pete to return with the PT when the telephone shrilled for her attention. Since it was the landline, she immediately thought of her father. She picked up the cordless and winced when she read the incoming number. "Did Dawn arrive all right, Colleen?" She inquired worriedly.

"She's fine. You and I have some business to discuss." The woman replied coldly.

'Another Goddamn shake down!' Cat sighed inwardly. "How much do you want to allow Dawn to see her father every week?"

"Why, Cat! You make me sound downright mercenary!" Colleen sneered.

"Why else would y'all be callin'?"

"Hey! It's no skin off my nose if you want to bypass the social pleasantries," Colleen sniped. "Frankly, I prefer getting right down to business!"

"Then why don't y'all get to the point?"

"I understand you're treating Dawn like one of your employees, giving her an hourly wage and paying her by check. Is that what you intended for Fawnie as well?"

"Naturally," Cat replied. "Would y'all please tell me what y'all want? I'm expectin' a call from my Father and don't want to miss it!"

"How sweet!" Colleen sneered. "So I got to thinking why Dawn should be the only one in this family to benefit from your offer just because Fawnie took a job elsewhere."

"I'm surprised it took y'all this long to figure that out!" Cat snorted in derision. "I doubt y'all are interested in comin' to work for me."

"You're right. The thought makes me physically ill!" Colleen snapped. "I just want four times the salary Fawnie would've gotten."

"Shit, woman! That's puttin' y'all on the same pay scale as my managers! That's quite a hole in the profits for no return!" Cat yelped.

"So? If you don't want to pay me, that's up to you." Colleen paused a moment then added maliciously, "Of course, that also means Tig will be disappointed not to get visits from Dawn."

"That's not your call, lady!" Cat protested. "Dawn's over 18 and able to hold a job without your consent."

"But she lives in my house, and as long as she continues to do so, I get some say over her comings and goings. If I say she can't work in another town, she won't!"

"And that would include going out to Stockton to visit Tig," Cat growled.

"You're catching on!" Colleen murmured in mock approval. "Isn't Tig's morale worth a few hundred dollars a week?"

"I'm not even goin' to dignify that remark with an answer!"

"The only answer I'm interested in is that deposit being made to my checking account every week. You pay, Tig continues to see Dawn, and she gets to keep her entire paycheck."

"You are a real piece of work," Cat snarled. "I suppose you expect direct deposit!"

"It's been working well for us so far," Colleen admitted. "I'll expect my first payment by morning."

"Are y'all nuts? Dawn's not gettin' paid until next Saturday!"

"The cost of doin' business, darlin'!" Colleen laughed nastily before hanging up. She was confident Cat would meet her demand. 'The bitch loves Tig too much to let him go without seeing his darling daughter! She'll do whatever it takes to make him happy, and I'm goin' to exploit that as long as I can!'

"Who were you talking to?" Dawn asked, startling her mother out of her pleasant reverie.

"Your step mother. Just making a few arrangements for next week," Colleen shrugged.

"Yeah, right!" Dawn snorted. She had heard enough to know what 'arrangements' her mother had made. "I've been thinkin' about this job, Mother. If it's gonna cause trouble between us, I might as well quit and find something closer to home."

"Oh no you won't, young lady!" Colleen shrieked. She leapt from the couch to stand nose to nose with her daughter.

Dawn took a surprised step back. She wasn't afraid that Colleen would strike her. The vehemence in her mother's voice coupled with her swift departure from the couch had caught her off guard. "I - I don't get it, Mom. You were really upset about this weekend a few minutes ago! What's going on?"

"I was letting jealousy do my talking for me," Colleen explained in a softer tone of voice. "You didn't seem very thrilled to be coming home and it set me off." She took a step back of her own so she wouldn't intimidate Dawn. 'The last thing I want to do is lose this hustle before it even starts!' She spread her arms out and added, "I missed you."

Dawn's eyes narrowed in suspicion. 'She looks way too afraid that she's gonna lose somethin' important if I quit!' Her mother had a smug air about her, as if she were a cat that had just eaten the prize canary. "You missed me," she repeated disbelievingly.

"Well, sure!" Colleen stated in a manner meant to be reassuring and sounding quite insincere about it. "You were gone overnight and you didn't say goodbye when you left. I wouldn't have known you weren't comin' home had it not been for your note!"

Dawn's nose wrinkled in distaste. "If you're going to lie to me, Mom, at least make it a good lie!" She sniffed. "You were shakin' Cat down, weren't you?"

"Why ask such a question when you already know the answer?" Colleen retorted.

"Frankly, I don't give a damn," Dawn shrugged. "Just as long as you don't fuck this up for me."

"Watch your language, girl! I'm still your mother!" Colleen sputtered. "You run your hustle your way, and I'll run mine my way!"

"So you are runnin' a hustle on Cat!" Dawn accused.

"So what? You just keep your mind on that job, and as long as you keep it, I won't charge you rent."

Colleen turned and strode triumphantly to her bedroom. Dawn shook her head and returned to her room. She felt a twinge of regret that her mother was fleecing Cat as well but quickly shrugged it aside. 'If the gash is going to be that vulnerable, she deserves everything she gets from us!'

---

Tig couldn't concentrate on the audio book Sunday night, though he tried hard to. He appreciated the work Cat had put into it in such a short amount of time. Besides reading the story, she'd combined the music soundtrack from the PBS special. 'She made this as entertaining as possible for me so I'd stick with it. She must've started makin' it the night we went in!'

He sighed inwardly, thinking of his woman making a gift for him to combat her pain instead of taking the prescribed pain pills. 'I know she says they don't work her right anway, but it doesn't make me feel any better about this road trip! 'If she's not takin' the pain meds when she needs 'em, she's gonna keep tirin' easy!' He sighed audibly and turned over on the narrow bunk, trying to find a comfortable position. "Who the fuck am I tryin' to kid? I'd be happier if she wasn't goin' at all!"

"Relax, Tig! She's gonna be a'right tomorrow!" Bobby stated reassuringly from the bunk below his brother.

"I know it, but she's pushin' herself too hard!" Tig replied.

"It's kinda weird seein' ya like this,Tigger. Ya never behaved this way with Colleen."

"Colleen never gave me reason to worry about her well bein'," Tig growled. "Just other shit."

"Sorry," Bobby winced. "Didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"It's a'right brother, that's in the rear view mirror," Tig replied. "I don't have to worry about Cat doin' that to me."

"What about all those crushes she has on those movie stars?" Bobby joked.

"That's all they are, brother. Crushes. Kinda like road sex. Doesn't mean a fuckin' thing." Tig grunted.

"How can ya be sure she won't invoke the 'prison clause'?" Bobby asked. In his experience, no one - male or female - had the ability to be faithful to their spouse during a long separation like this. He and LuAnn were evidence of that.

"Cat's too loyal, man," Tig explained. "Hell, she was married 20 years before she lost her old man in that robbery!"

"True dat," Bobby observed. "And she didn't come from the conventional herd of women we're used to cullin' from."

"That's why I don't have to worry about the 'prison clause' or a repeat of what Colleen did to me," Tig stated firmly.

"It's good that you've got that," Bobby replied sleepily. "Just try to relax, and not worry about tomorrow 'til it comes."

"Easier said than done," Tig grumbled, punching his pillow in frustration. His thoughts drifted back to their telephone conversation after supper.

"Glad ya made it home OK, baby," he sighed contentedly when the call connected.

"Y'all doubted me?"

"Never!" He fibbed good naturedly. "But today was pretty demandin' on ya." He was referring to the weekend with his daughter, but Cat misinterpreted it to mean the situation with Gemma.

"I suppose y'all are goin' to tell me that Clay wants Gem to go tomorrow," she stated dryly.

"No, baby. He mentioned it to me 'cause he had a feelin' Gem was gonna say somethin' to ya."

"She did," Cat replied. "I've been expectin' y'all to tell me to replace Ima."

"Not happenin' baby. Clay respects your decision," Alex assured her. "He's on the line with Gem tellin' her the same thing right now."

"As long as it's not gonna cause y'all any problems with the Prez or the club," Cat replied.

"It won't baby. We're good."

She felt the tension drain out of her from her husband's reassurance. She'd been expecting him to order her to give in. "I'm glad y'all trust me," she sighed in relief. "In allthings."

"What the fuck is that 'sposed to mean?" Alex snarled.

"Think about it, love. It'll come to you."

There was a note of sadness in her voice that worried him. "Did Dawn give ya any guff on the way home?"

"No, love. She was quiet as a mouse. Pete took her to her mother's. In fact, I just got assurance a few minutes ago that she arrived safe and sound," she assured him.

"Did Pete tell ya that?"

"No."

"I know for a fact that Dawn wouldn't call ya! It's not in her nature" Alex snapped. "Quit pussyfootin' around and tell me what's botherin' ya!"

"Who is more like it."

"Oh, shit! Colleen called," Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn't holding the receiver. "Was she very rough on ya?"

"No more so than usual," Cat informed him. 'No sense tellin' y'all about the shakedown. There's nothin' you can do about it from there.'

"I'm sorry, baby," he sighed.

"Not your fault, love. Y'all aren't responsible for her. I'm just tired out and have an early date with the Irish in the mornin'."

"Damn! I almost forgot about that. You be careful and come back whole, baby. I've kinda gotten used to havin' ya around."

"Love y'all too, stud muffin. G'nite."

He stared at the receiver for a moment after she hung up. He was annoyed that Colleen had bothered his wife again. 'They're an explosive combination! At least it was a telephone confrontation. I don't think Cat would've been able to handle a face to face one! She sounded low. And what the fuck was that comment about trust all about?'

"Hey, asshole! Are you gonna make love to that phone or can someone else use it?" The prisoner standing behind Tig grumbled.

"I'm considerin' rammin' it up your constipated ass!" He retorted, slamming the receiver onto the cradle.

"Easy, Tigger!" Clay intervened before the other inmate could take offense. "He's always grouchy after dealin' with the old lady!"

"Aren't we all?" The other prisoner chuckled. "We can't live with 'em, and can't live without 'em!"

Clay led Tig away from the payphones and a brewing fight that would've landed them all in solitary for a week. "C'mon bro! Use that grey matter between your ears!"

"I am!" Tig growled. "Cat made a smart remark about me trustin' her."

"You two talked about Gemma," Clay observed.

"Yeah, but ya already knew that was gonna happen!"

"And you heard me tell Gemma this was one trip she'd have to sit out and to back off."

"Cat seemed to think I was gonna read the riot act to her. I told her ya trusted her decision. She seemed pleased with that, as long as we're good. Then she said that I needed to think about trustin' her more. As if I don't trust her to remain true!"

Clay stopped in mid stride and chuckled softly.

"I don't see anything funny about it!" Tig snarled.

"You haven't been married long enough. She wasn't talkin' about her faithfulness or lack of it; she was talkin' about the run!" Clay chortled.

"She wasn't referrin' to the prison clause?"

"Nah. She just wants you to trust that she'll take care of herself when you're not around," Clay explained. "She's not goin' alone, for fuck's sake! Miles and Ima will keep an eye on her and make her take breaks when they think she needs 'em."

Tig considered that and nodded slowly. "True dat. Though she's not gonna let either of drive that rig I built for her!"

"Trust me, Tigger. Ya keep this shit up and your hair will be completely snow white before we're out!" Clay warned him jokingly.

"Not funny, bro!" Tig ran his hand through the raven locks. "There ain't no white hairs now, and there ain't gonna be any later!"

Tig took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. 'Clay's right. I don't wanna worry myself grey headed! She's gonna be fine!'

---

"Shit!" Gemma groaned, reaching blindly for the alarm clock ringing on the table next to the bed. She slapped the button that would stop the ear splitting noise and rolled over to stare at the ceiling. "There oughta be a law about havin' to get up this fuckin' early!" She couldn't remember why she'd set her clock for such an early hour. "The fuckin' gun run!" She threw the covers aside and slid from the bed, rushing to the bathroom to freshen up and change.

Though Clay had told her he wasn't going to order Cat through Tig to change her plans, Gemma intended to try to force her hand anyway. She'd learned that Cat was going to pick up Ima at her apartment, then come to the compound to pick up Miles.

"She didn't want her cats bein' upset by the sound of Harley," Clay explained.

Gemma smirked as she checked her appearance in the mirror. She intended to make sure that no one, including Tig's wife, kept her out of club business, much less usurped her position with the men.

The compound was quiet with pools of light breaking the darkness. Gemma winced at the sight of the empty area where the clubs' bikes usually sat. There was only one bike parked along the railing. 'That must be Miles' bike,' she observed as she parked the Caddy. 'Hope he's made coffee.'

Gemma had to remind herself that there would still be bikes parked in the usual spot. Chibs, Opie, Kozik, and Piney would be parking there later that day, along with the prospects. The remainder of the bikes were already in storage.

Miles was sitting at the bar, watching the monitors and sipping a cup of coffee. A fresh cup was waiting on the bar for Gemma.

"You're good," Gemma remarked as she slid onto a stool near the prospect.

"I saw you enter the compound," Miles pointed at the monitor with his cup. "Figured you might want a boost this early in the mornin'."

"Yeah," Gemma sipped the steaming brew and sighed in contentment as its warmth spread through her system.

"Somethin' tells me you're not here to see us off," Miles observed.

"Does that somethin' also tell ya to shut up and drink your coffee?" Gemma growled.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Headlights cut through the darkness on the monitors over their heads. The headlights were followed by the dark shape of the vintage Challenger cruising into the compound. Gemma and Miles watched silently as the Dodge executed a three point turn and rolled to a stop near the clubhouse entrance.

"There's my ride," Miles stated. He stood up and took his half finished cup into the kitchen. He placed it in the sink for Chuckie to clean up later. He left the kitchen to find that Gemma's cup was resting on the bar, but the Queen was gone. "I've got a bad feelin' about this!" He moaned, stopping at the open doorway to listen for a probable cat fight.

Gemma slipped out the minute Miles disappeared into the kitchen. She intended to confront Cat and make the woman accept that she was the matriarch of the club. What annoyed her was that Cat had completely ignored her by not even asking if she wanted to go along! That just wasn't acceptable behavior from any of the old ladies and extremely unacceptable from Tig's wife.

Gemma watched as Ima and Cat climbed out of the Challenger. She nodded coldly at Ima and stared intently at Cat.

"Wow! That was a chilly reception!" Ima murmured.

"Not intended for y'all, darlin'," Cat observed wryly. "Her majesty is pissed at me."

"Hey, Cat! You got a minute?" Gemma called.

"Barely," she replied warily. She turned back to Ima and added, "Why don't y'all go on inside and get us some coffee? The travel mugs are in the back behind your seat."

"Are you sure, kitten?" Ima inquired, motioning with her head at the waiting club matriarch.

"I'm sure." She wasn't really in the mood for a showdown with Gemma. Not after having to deal with Colleen's greed. 'But the sooner I get this matter settled, the better off everyone's goin' to be!'

Ima retrieved the mugs while Cat moved to join Gemma at the picnic table. Gemma was sitting on the table itself. As Cat walked toward her, she withdrew a joint from her purse, lit it, and held it out to Cat.

"I'll pass. Got a long drive ahead."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Gemma stated.

Cat held up her hand to ward away Gemma's comment. "Y'all might as well save your breath, Gemma. I'm not leavin' Ima behind so y'all can take her place."

"Didn't Tig call you last night?" Gemma blew smoke directly at Cat's face.

"He's been callin' every Sunday night to make sure I get back OK."

"So you're goin' to go against his direct order?" Gemma exclaimed.

"Come off it, Gem!" Cat snorted. "Clay never ordered Tig to tell me to change my plans. Hell, y'all were on the line with Clay while Tig was talkin' to me!" She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against a nearby post supporting the roof. "But I think I know what's buggin' y'all so much that you'd get up at oh dark thirty to be here."

"Oh? Suppose you tell me, then!" Gemma challenged, taking a long drag from her joint.

"This has everything to do with y'all feelin' threatened."

Gemma choked on the smoke she held in her lungs. "Me? Threatened by you? Get real!" She snorted, blowing the smoke out as she coughed. "If anything, you should be worried about your blatant disrespect to me!"

"How have I been disrespectful?" Cat inquired.

"Because the Croweaters and other old ladies in the club will know that you got away with challengin' my authority! They'll think it's a'right to do the same thing unless I do somethin' about it!" Gemma hissed.

Cat fought hard not to laugh. "Gemma, the only 'old ladies' who know about this are you, me, and Ima. Do y'all really think either one of us is goin' to run around braggin' that we left y'all out in the cold?"

Gemma frowned in consternation. The idea had occurred to her. Hearing it spoken out loud by someone else made Gemma understand just how ridiculous she was being. Still, she needed to make certain her place remained intact.

"What about those pre paid phone cards you slipped into the care packages for the boys? You even sent some to Clay and Jax!"

"Jesus Christ, Gemma! Y'all know how expensive those collect calls from prison can be!" Cat sighed. "I just picked up one for all the guys in case all y'all didn't get a chance to get one! It was a courtesy!"

Cat launched herself from the post and unfolded her arms to stand directly in front of Gemma without assuming a threatening posture. "Listen, Gem. The only reason the club asked me to help with the guns is because I won their trust when they needed it most."

"What are ya talkin' about?" The club matriarch rasped.

"I'm sure you remember what happened when y'all went on the lam."

Gemma stared blankly at her. So much had happened since then that it was hard to keep all the events in mind.

"That's when Abel was kidnapped and Kip murdered. The lock down was still in effect and our guys were shell shocked. They needed someplace to recover without the 'guests' eyes on 'em," Cat explained patiently. "So I left the hospital against medical advice and invited them to our house to eat, drink and regroup. They felt safe and cared for there and they came to believe they could count on me when they needed help and couldn't come to you," Cat explained.

"Oh. That."

"I helped a few times while all y'all were rescuin' Abel," she added. "Maybe I should've discouraged it after y'all came back from Belfast."

"Why didn't ya?"

"It's not easy for me to turn my feelin's for people on and off like a faucet. Not when I've come to care about 'em like family. And, to be honest, I wasn't about to turn my back on the guys just because you were jealous."

'Damn! Was I bein' that transparent?' Gemma asked herself. She drew another long, reassuring pull on the joint and held the smoke in her lungs as she considered her companion's observations.

"I have neither the intent nor the desire to take your place, Gemma. There's way too much on my plate without addin' to it. So y'all are just goin' to have to get used to me helpin' the guys if they ask, such as with this gun run, or just doin' things for 'em because it's the right thing to do."

Gemma's eyes narrowed in surprise. None of the club's women had ever talked back to her like that before. She wasn't sure that she liked it. 'But I can't ignore the fact that she's got a point about the guys trustin' her. As for this situation, Ima won't talk and Tara wouldn't listen to her if she did! Miles won't talk if he wants his patch, so why am I makin' such a big deal out of this?'

"I see y'all are thinkin' on what I just said; it's obviously makin' an impression," Cat remarked. She turned her attention to the club entrance where Miles and Ima were hovering. "All y'all can quit hoverin'! We've gotta hit the road!"

Miles and Ima scurried from the clubhouse, their faces flushed from being discovered at eavesdropping. Ima carried the two travel mugs of coffee in both hands, and smiled in surprise when Miles opened the passenger front door for her. Neither dared look at Gemma as they climbed into the Dodge.

Gemma felt a grudging respect rise within her for Tig's wife. 'Hate to admit it. She's right. I was thinkin' that she was trompin' on my territory with my boys,' she admitted to herself. 'No wonder Tig chose her; she's willin' to stand up for what she believes in regards of the consequences she incurs from it!' A grim smile crossed Gemma's features as she acknowledged that the woman wasn't afraid to stand up to her.

"Hey, Cat!" She called out across the porch.

Cat looked over the roof of the car, her expression set in polite inquiry. She hadn't opened her car door yet, so Ima and Miles couldn't clearly hear them.

"You've got a real iron set of balls for a woman!"

"So I've been told!" Cat grinned, lifting two fingers in salute to the club matriarch.

"Come back safe."

"We will," Cat assured her before opening the driver's door and sliding behind the wheel.

---

Cory Brown, aka 'Brownie', anticipated his friend would send him packing once the second high long distance bill came in. He had managed to keep his long distance calls down to less than five a night and of short duration, but they quickly added up.

He'd expected his friend to confront him about the first set of charges when the monthly phone statement came in. Instead, his friend had just briefly mentioned its' arrival.

"Phone bill's in," the friend remarked casually during a ball game the two were watching.

"Oh?" 'Brownie' lifted his eyebrows in inquiry while he hid his mouth behind the can of beer he was drinking.

"Yeah. There's a few long distance calls I can't account for."

"Oh, yeah. I made a few. How much is the bill?"

"Just a couple of bucks. Nothin' I can't handle this time, but if it continues, I'm gonna need somethin' on the books from ya," his friend shrugged.

"Sorry about that," Cory replied. He pasted what he knew was an apologetic expression on his face. "I just started workin'; they always hold off a month before payin' a body."

"I know. No big deal, dude. Just try not to get too gabby, OK?"

'Brownie' lifted his can in agreement. "Gotcha, bro. I won't let ya down."

His friend glanced out of the corner of his eye at 'Brownie', but said nothing. He wanted to believe in the man, but he was beginning to have his doubts. Age old patterns of behavior were coming back to haunt him. Behaviors that he'd shrugged off in the past but couldn't ignore this time around. 'But he is goin' out every mornin' to catch the bus for work! Why do I have a naggin' feelin' that he's fakin' it?'

The next morning, Cory got up, cleared up the couch where he slept, and prepared to go to work, just as he did every weekday since his library visit. Though his friend continued to believe 'Brownie' was working, he spent all day at the central library, reading newspapers and books, and using the internet in accordance with the posted rules so he wouldn't stand out.

'Not that the bitch would notice me now!' 'Brownie' smirked to himself. 'I can clean up pretty nicely when I have to!' He hung around the library until it was time to catch the bus back to his friend's apartment for the night.

But the arrival of the first bill made 'Brownie' aware that his time in Evansville was about to come to an end. He had developed a sense of knowing when he was about to wear out his welcome over the many years of using people for his own ends. That sense was warning him that his carefully built facade was about to come crashing down on him.

So it came as no surprise when his friend lost his temper when the next phone bill arrived. The enveloped was thicker than usual, which was the first indication of trouble to the friend. He opened the bill to find it was three times higher than normal, and all due to multiple nights of long distance direct dialed calls made all over the country!

"What the Hell were ya thinkin', man?" His friend cried, waving the thick pile of papers in 'Brownie's' face.

"I told ya I've been tryin' to find someone!" Cory replied. "I have every intention of payin' ya back!"

"With what? Your not so good looks? Or with the proceeds of whatever you've pawned that you've swiped from here?" His friend yelled.

"Wh - what are ya talkin' about?" 'Brownie' stammered.

"I'm talkin' about the gold plated stamps I had hidden away in a closet! My grandpa gave those to me as a graduation present! I was gonna put 'em in a safe deposit box, but they're gone!"

"What makes ya think I took 'em?" 'Brownie' countered.

"You and I are the only ones with access to the place. The cleaning lady sure as Hell didn't do it!" The friend retorted angrily. The reference to a cleaning lady was rhetorical. 'Brownie' was aware his friend lived paycheck to paycheck and couldn't afford luxuries like that.

"How can ya prove it was me?" 'Brownie' insisted. "It coulda been a burglar."

"No sign of forced entry, and nothin' else of value - what little there is - was taken," the friend replied grimly. He reached in his back pocket and removed a receipt. "Plus, I checked every single pawn shop in town until I found my set, and got a copy of this!"

The friend threw the receipt at Cory, who watched in disdain as it fluttered to the floor. It landed face up so that the writing on it stared up at him. The receipt listed the gold plated set in detail, and listed his name as the seller.

"I gave ya a place to stay, and didn't expect ya to pay a cent for rent, and this is how ya repay me!" The friend growled darkly. "Ya steal the one thing with any sentimental value to me. What'd ya do, snort it up your nose or shoot it in your veins?"

"A little of both," 'Brownie' shrugged, moving into the living room where he stored his back pack. He'd had it ready to go since the first phone bill had come in. "Guess this means you're givin' me my walkin' papers."

"You catch on fast! And don't bother ever comin' back, dude! I'm done with ya!"

"Story of my life," 'Brownie' muttered dryly. "It's been that way since that bitch turned on me all those years ago."

His former friend held the door open for him while 'Brownie' shrugged into his long military coat, then slipped his arms into the back pack. He shook his body up and down a few times, partly to delay his departure and also to evenly distribute the weight along his back and shoulders.

"I've got news for ya, asshat," the friend snarled. "Cat Marshall has never been your problem. You think that the world owes ya a livin'. It doesn't. You should clean up your act and get a life that doesn't involve usin' people!"

"Yeah, yeah. Tell it to somebody who gives a shit," Cory growled as he stepped across the threshold of the apartment entrance.

"I did give a shit about you! A lot of people try to! Your problem is that ya don't know the true meanin' of the word 'friend'. It's a too way street, but all you know how to do is take!" The former friend retorted.

'Brownie' turned to glare at the man, only to have the door slammed firmly in his face. "Just remember, you asked for whatever you have comin' to ya for crossin' me!" He shouted through the closed door before storming down the stairs and out into the parking lot.

His friend stood out on the balcony, arms crossed against the cold wind whistling around him. "I heard that, asshole! That's why I filed a restrainin' order against you! If you're still hangin' around a half hour from now, the cops will gladly give ya a ride! And if anything does happen to me, you're the first person they're gonna look for!"

Chalk another one up to that bitch!' He grumbled to himself, striding towards the street and the bus stop. 'My life's been one big disappointment after another ever since I met her!'

He grimaced as he waited for the bus to approach. He'd done everything he could in Evansville, anyway. He needed to make his way to North again, but he needed to avoid Knox County entirely. The closest towns to Vincennes where he might be able to hang out were either Washington, in Daviess County, or Princeton, in Gibson County. One was East of Vincennes, the other was South. Both were farther from Vincennes than he liked, but the restraining order left him little choice. Either way, he had very little money to buy a ticket North, no matter which town he chose.

He shrugged and shifted the back pack a bit. He felt a deep conviction that everything would soon work out for him. He'd learned much about his prey during his many library visits, and eventually a crisis would arise that would bring that prey to him. All he had to do was wait.

---

Cat, Ima, and Miles managed to leave Charming without being stopped by any of the SJSD officers. Cat remained grimly quiet on the short ride from the compound to the dock. Ima and Miles wisely refrained from commenting about the confrontation they'd overheard between the club matriarch and their companion.

Ima was concerned for her friend. She looked tired from the weekend's stress of dealing with Dawn. 'The last thing she needed was a confrontation with Gemma! That woman could freeze icicles!'

Ima's thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the dock just before sunrise to meet the Irish delivery boat. Miles spoke with the Irish on the club's behalf before accepting the guns and loading them into the Challenger's false bottom.

"Foony tha' SAMCRO wood hae wimmin doin' thair werk fer 'em," one of the Irish laughed nastily while Miles worked. He ran his eyes over both women with a lusty leer.

"There's nothin' funny about gettin' the job done when the eyes of the law are all over y'all," Cat growled at the grinning Irishman.

"Whut d'ye mean, wohmin?" The Irishman asked.

"Charming PD has been replaced by the county sheriff," Ima explained sweetly. "They're not as 'forgiving' as CPD was."

"We'll get the job done, don't worry about that," Cat added in a hard tone of voice. His boorish habit of undressing her and Ima with his eyes made her skin crawl. Both women were wearing casual clothing that was nowhere near revealing nor skin tight, but that didn't prevent him from leering at them.

Cat and Ima discussed their trip the previous Saturday at the coffeehouse. Ima arrived while the staff and Dawn were baking for the commissary delivery and the following week.

"Is Cat here?" Ima asked Pete. "She asked me to meet her with her today."

"She should be in her office, Miss Ima," Pete informed her. "She's had a bit of a rough morning, though."

"Oh? What happened?"

"Dawn Trager happened," CJ grumbled while he prepared tea for her. "She gave Miss Cat a bit of a hard time."

"Oh, dear!" Ima sighed. "Kozik told me that might happen! Is Cat all right?"

"She's probably tired. Dawn's in the kitchen with Miss Anna and Adrian, doing the baking," Pete replied. "Go on back to the office."

Ima accepted her tea and walked back to the office. She refrained from peeking inside the kitchen as she passed. 'It sounds like everything's calm for the moment in there. I doubt they need me stirring up things by giving in to curiosity!'

She stopped in the doorway to the office when she spied Cat sitting at her desk with her head resting on her crossed arms. 'Maybe I should leave her alone!' Ima thought. 'She's exhausted!'

Just as Ima turned away, Cat sat up straight and gazed at her. "I'm OK, Ima. Thanks for comin'."

"You don't look so good, kitten. Sure you're up to this?" Ima inquired worriedly. "I could always come back later."

"Yes, I'm up to this," she sighed. "I just have a bit of a tension headache. It'll pass."

"I heard about your morning."

"Well, it's past me now. A few wrinkles got ironed out," Cat replied, standing gingerly and limping towards the doorway. "Let's go into the break room where we can talk."

Ima followed her to the coffeehouse break room. Cat didn't turn on any additional lights, preferring to keep the table lamps on. The smaller lights gave a calmer atmosphere to the room and was easier on her eyes.

"Do you want some aspirin or something for the headache?"

"Nah, it'll pass. I've got a few things to do at the house after we're done here. Dawn's stayin' the night."

"Is that a good idea?" Ima frowned.

"Probably not," Cat admitted wryly. "But I don't really have a choice; she is Tig's daughter, and I told the girls they were welcome to visit anytime."

"That doesn't mean you have to put her up for the night! Especially if she's been disrespectful to you!" Ima protested.

"What am I supposed to do, Ima? Send her back home for the night?"

"Why not?"

"Because Colleen is makin' her life Hell on Earth," Cat explained. "If the kid prefers stayin' with me and the cats to bein' at home one night a week, I'm not goin' to deny her the opportunity!"

"In other words, thanks for being concerned, but back off," Ima grinned.

"I appreciate your concern, Ima. I know Tig's daughters can be a handful, but they're also part of my family."

"I understand completely. I just found out that Koz has a daughter," Ima announced.

"Whew!" Cat whistled soundlessly. "Bet that was a shock!"

"It was unexpected," she replied ruefully. "From what Kozik told me, Kendra is a little older than Tig's girls."

"Any idea where she lives?"

"Far from here, is all I know. Maybe still in Washington State. She calls Kozik every week but doesn't say much to him. He says she's also in the porn industry."

"Yeowtch!" Cat winced.

"He's OK with it," Ima shrugged. "She's over 21."

"Think y'all will meet her?"

Ima shook her head. "I doubt it. I didn't press Kozik on the subject of her visiting, and I'm not sure I could be as hospitable as you."

"Let me tell y'all somethin' most folks around here don't know about me, Ima," Cat replied. "My folks split when I was an adult, but when Daddy remarried, it wasn't an easy transition. I acted out because it felt like he was more interested in his new family than in me."

"Oh, dear! Is that something I have to look forward to?" Ima gasped.

"All blended families do," Cat explained. "It's an adjustment. I imagine that Koz's daughter is goin' to be a bit resistant to y'all. The best thing to do is be as accomodatin' as you can, without bein' a push over."

"If I try to make Koz choose sides, I'll be the loser, is that it?"

"It's possible," Cat acknowledged. "But if you're distant to Kendra, y'all will definitely lose."

"Maybe I'll be lucky and she'll never come around," Ima sighed.

"Don't count on it, darlin'. Y'all might be disappointed." Cat sighed. "Now, as far as Monday, Chibs gave me the intel on when the Irish will arrive. We need to be there to meet 'em when they dock."

"Sounds like it'll be an early day," Ima observed, taking a sip of her tea.

"Exactly. Miles will be with us as protection, but he won't have his cut. He'll also be on hand to talk with the Irish if they're not willin' to deal with us. Frankly, I figure they're goin' to mouth off about us makin' the run."

"Should I wear something provocative to play with their minds?" Ima grinned.

"The opposite, actually," Cat explained. "Provocative attire might backfire on us."

"Gotcha, kitten. I'll be watching for you to pick me up Monday morning."

Watching her friend deal with the boorish Irishman made Ima's concern increase. Though she'd assured the other girl that she'd slept well the night before, the business owner seemed pale and weak. 'She had such a rough weekend. I'm afraid that she might not have the strength for this trip!'

Cat's patience with the Irishman's attitude was wearing thin, along with her stamina. The conversation with Gemma had taken more out of her than she'd expected. "We don't have time to debate this with all y'all. If you have a problem with the delivery, talk it over with Opie; he's actin' Prez," she snarled, motioning for Miles to close the trunk. "We're leavin'!"

Miles and Ima climbed into the Challenger. Ima was riding in the shotgun seat; Miles in the back. Cat turned away from the Irish delivery men and slid behind the wheel of the Challenger. She turned the key in the ignition, allowing the 440 cubic inches of Hemi power to echo her feelings. With a squeal of tires that would've had Tig muttering curses under his breath, Cat laid down a patch of rubber as the Challenger pealed away from the dock, leaving the Irish laughing and shaking their heads.

"Aire ye gonnae call Ope?" The Irishman's companion inquired.

"Nay. Ifn tha lass 'as 'alf tha balls she jest showed, we've gut nuffin' ta worry aboot," he laughed. "Untie tha' boat so's we kin git away befour tha' sun gits eny 'igher!"

---

Two weeks had passed since Agent June Stahl had been ambushed and killed by the IRA. Federal agents had looked for the assailants that had taken her life along with Jimmy O'Phelan's, but their efforts were unsuccessful.

"It's like they vanished in a puff of smoke!" Agent Sullins complained as he entered the conference room he, Agent Carey of Internal Affairs, and the regional director had been using as a 'war room' since the ambush.

"We've looked everywhere we could to find them; left no stone unturned. Checked the docks, the airports, and all the roads leading to Canada," the director sighed. "We've no choice but to assume that the assassins have left the country."

"Can we be sure of that? What if the IRA didn't do it?" Sullins insisted.

"We have former CPD Chief Unser's sworn statement," Carey reminded him.

"Unser was known to be in bed with that motorcycle club! Stahl was on that club's back like flies on shit!" Sullins sneered. "Who's to say that SAMCRO didn't do the killing and set up the IRA as the fall guys?"

"We've been over this before, Richard," the director replied tiredly. "That theory just doesn't hold water. Besides, killing Stahl wouldn't have done that club any good."

"The arrest of Jimmy O'Phelan's lieutenant and the motorcycle club won't be overturned by Stahl's improprieties," Carey added.

"Thank God for that!" Sullins stated. "I was dreading having to announce that club's early release to the public!"

"Did anyone contact Agent Tyler's family about the investigation?" Carey inquired.

"I did," the director affirmed. "They're happy that their daughter has been reinstated in good standing with the agency, but they have refused to let us have any part in her funeral."

"Well, they're just going to have to change their minds!" Sullins retorted. "We have to make a visible presentation of support for her!"

"I've already tried, Richard," the director replied quietly. "The Tylers want nothing to do with us. They won't even allow their local law enforcement to be a part of the memorial service!"

"They can't do that!" Sullins insisted.

"Actually, they can," Carey stated. "The family has the right to decide whether they want to participate in a law enforcement memorial or not."

"But - but!" Sullins sputtered angrily.

"There's no 'buts' about it, Richard," the director interjected. "I've been in talks with the locals and they're planning to hold a separate tribute for Tyler. It'll be held after the family's private service."

"I don't agree," Sullins huffed. "We need the family's involvement for public relations purposes!"

"Not this time, Richard," the director observed.

"I don't believe it! You're actually agreeing to this?" Sullins gasped.

"We don't have any choice," the director replied.

A knock on the conference room door interrupted the discussion. The door opened to admit one of the clerical support staff. "Excuse me, sir," she announced breathlessly to the director. "There's a call for you on line 1."

"Can you take a message?"

"It's Agent Tyler's father!"

"I see. Thank you," the director nodded, dismissing the clerk. He reached for the phone in the middle of the table, activated the speakerphone option, and pressed the blinking line 1 button. "Hello, Mr. Tyler. What can I do for you?"

"Do you have me on speakerphone?" Tyler replied.

"Yes, sir," the director admitted. "Agents Sullins and Carey are with me."

"Good. They need to hear this, too."

James Kite had dreaded meeting with the Tylers ever since he'd learned of their daughter's death. 'Sometimes being a chaplain for the PD has its' drawbacks!' As their family pastor, he couldn't get out of counseling the family during their time of need. Nor would he try to.

"Don't try to talk us in to allowing any kind of law enforcement involvement in the funeral!" Mrs. Tyler announced as she and her husband sat down in chairs across the desk from their pastor.

"I wasn't planning to," Rev. Kite replied quietly. "I'm not representing the PD. I'm here to help you."

"We haven't made any concrete decisions yet," Wayne Tyler stated, laying a hand over his wife's. "Anne hasn't even been released to us yet!"

"That's not unusual in a Federal murder investigation," Kite assured the couple.

"It's not helped that the Agency that took our daughter's life considered her guilty of murder!" Mrs. Tyler remarked hotly.

"It's obvious that hurt you. I didn't believe it when I first heard of it. Anyone who truly knew Anne knew the charge was false."

"It took them long enough to exonerate her!" Mrs. Tyler cried.

"But the fact remains that the Agency Anne served so diligently has cleared her of any wrongdoing. We now know it was her partner who was the guilty one," the minister reminded the distraught parent.

"So we're supposed to just roll over and let them run things?" Mrs. Tyler remarked acidly. "The Agency doesn't want to honor our daughter, they just want to use the memorial service as a public relations ploy! Don't try to tell me otherwise!"

"I won't, because there's no convincing you that's not the case," Rev. Kite sighed. "Let me ask you this; is it fair to shut out local law enforcement from paying their respects to Anne because you're angry at the Feds?"

"That's not a very fair question!" Mrs. Tyler huffed.

"It's not intended to be," the minister stated. "The people who watched Anne grow up, who know the kind of cop she became, are hurting just as much as you. If you don't want an official memorial ceremony, that's your right. But please don't shut out the local police need to say good bye to your daughter."

The Tylers looked at each other, then back at their minister. Everything Rev. Kite had said to them was true. They were angry at the Federal agency, but the local police had always encouraged their daughter in her career choice. It seemed petty to shut down out now.

"I've always said that funerals seems to bring out the worst in people," Mrs. Tyler admitted. "I didn't think I'd be one of those."

"We do want a church service for her," Wayne Tyler added. "One for friends and family, without the police hoopla."

"We can do that," Rev. Kite assured them. "You can have a civilian celebration of your daughter's homecoming one day, and the law enforcement recoginition the next."

"Do we have to be involved in it?" Mrs. Tyler rasped.

"It'd be appreciated if you would, so that the police chief can present you both with the folded flag."

Mrs. Tyler gazed questioningly at her husband. "I'm not sure, darling. What do you think?"

"I think we could be at the gravesite, so Bob Hardin can give us the flag. He's been a good family friend," Wayne suggested. "Do you think you could endure it?"

"It'll be when the casket is at the cemetery anyway," Mrs. Tyler admitted. "As long as the Feds don't try to run things!"

"They won't," Wayne assured her in a grim manner.

"I'll make arrangements with Bob," Rev. Kite offered. "He'll abide by your wishes to the letter!"

"It's not him that I'm worried about!" Mrs. Tyler retorted dismissively as she stood up, signaling an end to the conference.

"My wife and I have discussed this at great length," Wayne Tyler announced over the speakerphone. "We have decided that it's not right to prevent the law enforcement community from honoring our daughter."

Sullins gave an audible sigh of relief. The director gave him a look then replied, "That's very generous of you both. We appreciate the honor."

"It's not for you!" Mrs. Tyler interjected hotly. "Our minister is in the chaplain's corps of our local police department. He explained to us why local law enforcement community needed to honor our daughter."

"Yes, ma'am," Agent Carey assured her. "It's hard on all of us when an officer is killed, especially when one of our own did the killing."

"That's your problem!" Mrs. Tyler snarled. "Our local police department is handling the memorial. If the ATF wants to be involved, talk to them! We want nothing to do with you!"

"We'll be more than happy to co - operate with your local PD," the director replied solemnly.

"That includes press coverage!" Mrs. Tyler added sharply.

"Of course! Whatever you both feel is appropriate!" The director added. Sullins opened his mouth to protest, but was prevented by a warning look from the director.

"Bob Hardin is waiting for you to contact him about your agency's involvement," Wayne Tyler informed them, providing the contact information the director would need.

"I'll call him right away. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler."

The buzz of the dial tone sounded like a hive of angry hornets to Agent Carey. He glanced at Sullins, who was frowning intently at the phone in the center of the conference table. Carey then turned to look at his supervisor. The director suddenly looked older than his years.

Carey didn't have to be told what the regional director was thinking. The ATF had lost a valuable agent; the Tylers had lost a daughter. Neither side had won.

"Make arrangements to release Tyler's body to her family," the director ordered. "We're going to consider the case closed."

Sullins drew another breath to protest, but bit back his words at the director's solemn look. There was no reason to argue the point. Sullins closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, unable to meet his supervisor's gaze.

---

Eli Roosevelt walked into the former CPD headquarters, prepared to begin the day shift. He glanced through the tip sheet and frowned at a notation from the Coast Guard.

"When did this come in?" He asked the night shift charge officer.

"A few hours ago," he replied. "I forwarded the information to that jurisdiction."

"Did you put anyone on watch at the SAMCRO compound?"

"No sir. It never occurred -"

"Dammit!" Roosevelt stormed to the radio room. "Get this out right now! Send a car over to the SAMCRO compound, do a head count on the number of bikes there."

"Copy that, sir!" The dispatcher affirmed.

"And dispatch another cruiser by Cat Trager's house and businesses!"

"Both of them?"

"Both of them!" Roosevelt snapped. "Have the deputies see if that vintage Dodge of hers is parked at the house and have them report back to me ASAP!"

"Yes sir!"

"What's wrong, El Tee?" Deputy Cane inquired as Roosevelt stormed past him.

"Coast Guard reported a suspicious craft en route to the docks early this morning."

"So? What's that got to do with SAMCRO?"

Roosevelt glared at his junior officer. "Better re - read that file on the club, Cane!" He growled. "The Sons run illegal runs - assault weapons - for the Irish!"

"Do you really think they'd be dumb enough to make a run now?" Cane snorted.

"They'd one of their women do it for them, especially one with a newly acquired muscle car!" Roosevelt reported. "Let me know the minute the reports are in!"

Roosevelt stormed into his officer and slammed the door after him. "Damn! First week on the job and SAMCRO's already slipped one by me! I'll bet they have Trager's wife doing their dirty work for them! That hemi - powered Challenger is the type of car that could handle that kind of weight!"

He didn't have long to fume. Cane knocked on his door and entered without waiting for an invitation. "All the bikes at the compound are accounted for, but the Dodge isn't parked at the Trager house."

"That doesn't mean anything. Did the officers check the businesses?"

"No sir. Do you want me to put out an APB on her?"

"No," Roosevelt sighed. "She's already outside our jurisdiction by now."

"CHP could pick her up. And if she's crossed the state line, the Feds would want to get in on it," Cane pointed out.

"That's why I don't want an APB put out," Roosevelt explained.

"B - but, El Tee!"

"You heard me, Cane!" Roosevelt growled. "Let me check into things at her two businesses. I'll be back."

Roosevelt continued fuming while he drove out to Lumpy's Gym. There was no sign of Ima's Mercedes nor Cat's PT. He walked into the gym, which had just opened for the day, and descended on the opening manager in the office.

"Where are your employers?" He demanded.

"Good morning to you, Lieutenant," the manager replied. "Eddie's closing today, and Mr. Kozik's at the clubhouse. You know where Mr. Trager is!"

"Don't be funny, son," Roosevelt growled. "I don't have time for bullshit! I'm referring to their women!"

"Oh," he pulled up the office calendar on the computer. "Miss Ima and Miss Cat are out of town today. Apparently they're on a shopping trip."

"Shopping trip?" Roosevelt echoed in disbelief.

"That's what the notation says here," the opening manager shrugged.

Roosevelt abruptly turned, stormed out of the office, and on out to his truck. He knew it would be wasted effort, but he needed to confirm his suspicions. He drove across town to Charming Pawse.

The bell over the door tinkled merrily, elevating his annoyance level. He stalked up to the counter to confront Pete. "Is your boss in?"

"She's out of town today, Lieutenant," Pete replied. "She said she had to get supplies. She didn't want to trust ordering over the internet and she needs things she can't find in the area."

"She's making a shopping trip in her condition?" Roosevelt snorted derisively.

"Miss Ima went with her," Pete explained.

"Why didn't they take her Cruiser?"

"Oh, so you drove by the house and noticed the Challenger was gone," Pete observed. "It has a larger cargo area, Lieutenant."

"I suppose it does," Roosevelt sighed.

"Did you want to order anything to take with you?" Pete asked helpfully.

"No. Thanks anyway." Roosevelt turned and strode briskly from the coffeehouse. His shoulders were slumped in defeat.

'There's nothing I can do about this now!' He thought to himself on the trip back to headquarters. 'But I'll be waiting for her when she comes back! I'll bet there won't be any purchases to show for her efforts!'

Pete remained at the counter until the SJSD truck pulled away from the curb. Then he rushed into the office to call his employer. "Miss Cat," he announced the moment the voice mail allowed him to speak. "It's Pete. Lieutenant Roosevelt just left. You were right that he'd come looking for you this morning. I told him you'd gone off on a shopping trip with Miss Ima like you said to do. Keep your eyes open and drive safe."

---

The group in the Challenger remained silent after leaving the docks. Cat was angry over the Irish delivery man's behavior towards her and Ima. She slipped a tape into the stereo and turned on the music to ward off conversation.

Miles quickly grew bored of watching the scenery pass by and eventually dropped off to sleep. Ima respected her friend's need to stew for awhile, keeping a watchful eye on the other woman.

The stereo was playing tunes from a female musician who usually helped Cat relax. It took awhile, but the songs eventually dulled the edge of Cat's annoyance. When the last song on the CD ended, Ima reached out and turned off the stereo.

"I liked that. Who's the artist?"

"Sheri Miller. She was part of the band that accompanied an actor/singer I like when he appeared in Chicago."

"Which one?" Ima laughed.

"The one that played 'The Phantom' in 'Love Never Dies'."

"That would be Ramin Karimloo that you've been talking about lately!" Ima grinned. "He does have a great voice!"

"He's not hard on the eyes, either," Cat smirked.

"You obviously discovered her before you came to Charming, if you heard her in Chicago."

"Yeah. I made a day trip there while my first husband was still alive. He was good about indulging me in things like that," Cat replied.

Ima winced at the sorrowful note in her friend's voice. Though Cat was obviously happy with Tig, losing her first husband was still a tender wound. "I'm sorry to remind you of something so painful," she murmured.

"Nah, it's OK. Besides, there's something about Sheri's music that I like. It's soothing and uplifting. That's why I promote her on the coffeehouse's website. I'd like to see her go further in her career."

"Do you mind if I ask you what happened between you and Gemma at the clubhouse? It sounded a little intense."

"Nothin' much to tell," Cat shrugged. "She felt like I was trompin' her turf with the club. I set her straight."

"It sounded a little more involved than that," Ima pointed out.

"That's the 'Reader's Digest' condensed version," Cat sniffed.

"C'mon, Cat! I heard what y'all said to her! But I think there's more to it than that!" Ima protested.

Cat debated whether to tell Ima what else had bothered the club matriarch. She shrugged inwardly and added, "There was. She kinda felt that me choosin' to have y'all come along was a betrayal."

"Oh," Ima replied softly.

"Listen, she and I talked about that yesterday at Stockton," Cat assured the girl. "Gemma demanded to come along and I set her straight. She doesn't pick my friends."

"Thank you for standing up for me. Though I don't expect she and Tara will ever welcome me into the fold with open arms!"

"That's true," Cat admitted. "Y'all are goin' to have a tougher time of it than Lyla and I had it, darlin'."

"I know," Ima sighed.

"Frankly, I don't understand why women go all spastic on the 'other woman' when the man strays. He's just as guilty as her!"

"Maybe because the 'other' woman knows the man is involved, and the woman in his life thinks the 'other woman' should back off whether the man is interested or not," Ima observed.

"You might be right," Cat grinned.

The two fell silent for a moment. Cat glanced in the rear view mirror, wondering why Miles had been so quiet. A loud snort alerted her that he was sound asleep. "So much for the prospect being alert for trouble!"

"I've been keeping an eye out," Ima assured her.

"So have I. Though I don't know what I'm watchin' for!" Cat replied grimly.

"My guess would be anything that doesn't look normal," Ima suggested.

"That leaves a lot open to interpretation!" Cat smirked.

"That's true," Ima snickered. "Are you carrying protection?"

"I assume y'all aren't referrin' to birth control," Cat grinned. "Yes, in my shoulder holster under the jacket. I never leave home without it."

---

"Sorry, Tig," StoneCoyote smirked into the phone. "Cat hasn't gotten here yet."

"Shit! What's takin' so damn long!" Tig snorted into the mouthpiece.

"Take it easy, bro! If they got started before sunrise, they're probably right on schedule. Chibs said not to expect her until mid - mornin' anyway!"

"True dat," Tig pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. "Sorry to bug ya, bro. It's just that - "

"Say no more, brother," StoneCoyote assured him. "I understand where you're comin' from and am just as concerned. It does seem awful early for her to makin' this kind of trip!"

"Glad we're in agreement!" Tig grumbled. "Just make sure she gets plenty of rest when she gets there, will ya?"

"You know it, bro."

"See if ya can talk her into lettin' Ima drive the Challenger. She'll prolly balk at the idea, but it's worth tryin'."

"Why won't she go for someone else drivin' the car?" StoneCoyote inquired.

"Let Cat explain it to ya. I've gotta get goin' or will miss what passes for breakfast here. Guess I'll try again around lunch time."

"If she's not here by then, I'll send Tommy Gunn and Sleeved Biker out to look for her!" StoneCoyote promised.

"Thanks, bro." Tig disconnected the line and leaned his head against the cool concrete wall. His head ached. So did his heart. It wasn't just the trip that had him worried about his woman. He knew Gemma was mad at Cat for a variety of reasons and he was concerned what the club matriarch might do to his girl.

'Gemma's temper is the only thing greater than Cat's, and that's sayin' somethin'!' Tig mused grimly. 'Cat can hold her own in a fight when she's whole. Gem's the type of woman that'll take any advantage she can.'

"You've got nothin' to worry about, Tig," Clay quietly assured him at breakfast so the others wouldn't overhear. "Gem might be upset, but she's not gonna take a skateboard to your wife."

"Wish it were that easy, Clay," Tig replied, stabbing his breakfast with his plastic fork. "You know how Gem gets when she's jealous!"

"It's not like Cat's makin' a play for me!" Clay protested.

Tig glared at his friend. "Not funny, bro! Let's face it, Gemma likes bein' the sole recipient of our affection. Cat stepped in when she was needed and the guys now look to her as much as your wife."

"That's true," Clay sighed. "You did hear me order Gem to leave it alone last night."

"When has that ever stopped her?" Tig snorted.

"It'll be a'right, bro. If it'll make ya feel any better, I'll place a call to Gemma and find out what happened."

"Nah," Tig shrugged. "I'll find out for myself when I call my girl before lunch."

---

Ima wasn't surprised to learn that Cat was carrying a gun. "Koz gave me one to carry, too. It's in my purse," she announced proudly.

"I wasn't aware you knew how to shoot."

"I didn't. Kozik took me out to the country and taught me," Ima explained. "It was difficult at first; but he was very patient with me."

"Tig did the same thing with me a few months ago. He got a very unpleasant surprise," Cat announced.

"Oh? Did you shoot him in the ass?" Ima laughed.

"Hardly. He was bein' all superior alpha male intendin' to teach the little woman to fire a gun. I let him think he was gettin' away with it, and then shot a bulls eye every time!"

"I'll bet that didn't go well!" Ima giggled. "Where did you learn to shoot?"

"I spent a lot of summers shadowing my older male cousins around our grand parents farm in Southern Indiana. They decided if they couldn't ditch me, they might as well teach me the important shit, like fixin' cars, drinkin', fightin', and firin' a gun."

"Sounds like fun," Ima observed wistfully.

"Sometimes. The farm wasn't a workin' farm. No animals except the dog and some barn cats. The oldest girl cousin would come out to watch 'daytime dramas' with Grandma while Grandpa was workin' on the rural phone lines. The other cousins would come over after supper to play."

"Why did you spend so much time in such an isolated situation like that?" Miles grumbled.

"Well, look who's decided to wake up!" Cat grunted, glaring up in the rear view at the prospect.

"Sorry!" Miles pouted.

"Because as a kid, one has little choice but to go where your parents tell y'all to go. Daddy had lots to do durin' the daytime while my birth mother was in school; sometimes it wasn't possible to bring a youngster along. It was better for me to be out in the fresh air and sunshine of the country," Cat explained to the prospect.

"Oh," Miles sat up straighter in the back seat, sensing there might be a story to occupy him. He was disappointed when Cat didn't elaborate.

"I've been thinking about our return trip, kitten," Ima stated, sensing their driver was growing uncomfortable with the current topic. "We passed an outlet mall an hour ago, maybe we should consider stopping."

"What for?" Cat inquired.

"It'll look a little suspicious if we come back without any bags in the trunk," Ima explained.

"Especially if Roosevelt gets it into his head to verify our story," Miles agreed.

"Shit! I really dislike shoppin'!" Cat groaned. "But all y'all are right. We can't return empty handed!"

"How much longer to Rogue River?" Miles asked.

"Y'all sound like a kid askin' 'Are we there yet?" Cat retorted.

"They'll start worryin' if it takes us too long to get there!"

"Seems like there's a lot of that goin' on anyway," Cat observed dryly.

Ima grinned at the idea of Miles behaving like a whiny kid in the back seat during a long car trip. She liked the Challenger's interior. Though the outside of the car was vintage, Tig had revamped the front to resemble a more modern vehicle. The front bench seat had been replaced with twin bucket seats and a center console/armrest that allowed for storage, including cup holders.

The transmission lever had been moved from the steering wheel to the floor, and the stereo system had both CD and cassette players, with two speakers in the front door and two more speakers in the back. The cigarette lighter had been replaced with a power outlet, which now held Cat's phone charger. The iPhone rested within the old ashtray.

Ima glanced at the iPhone when Gerard Butler began crooning 'Music of the Night.' She reached down to retrieve the phone and looked at the caller ID. "Should I answer it for you? The ID shows private number," she asked.

Cat was already signaling and pulling off to the side of the road. She stopped the car and held out her hand for the phone. "It's probably StoneCoyote."

"How do you know it's not Tig?" Miles asked.

"ESP," Cat retorted, glaring in the rear view mirror at the prospect. She pushed the 'accept' button for the call. "Cat speakin'."

"Where are ya, darlin'?" StoneCoyote replied nervously.

"About an hour away," she replied with a grin. "I was right," she added to her companions.

"About what?"

"That it was you callin'. Don't worry. We're on schedule."

"You're not overdoin' are ya? Tig's already checked in once with me."

'Why am I not surprised?' She huffed. "No, I'm not overdoin'. See y'all in an hour, darlin'." She disconnected the call, then noticed the voice mail indicator was lit up. "How the Hell did I miss this?" She listened to the message, frowned, then put the iPhone back in the ash tray. She started the engine, signaled, and pulled back onto the highway, still frowning over the message.

"Do you really have ESP?" Miles asked to break the silence.

Cat rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Hardly, dear. Different numbers on my contacts have different ring tones. That one wasn't Tig's."

"Oh. Which one is his?"

"That's for me to know and you not to find out."

"Did you get some bad news?" Ima inquired, pointing at the cell phone.

"Just anticipated news. I'll tell y'all about it later."

---

The San Joaquin League of Women Voters worked hard every year to get information on the candidates out to the registered voters. Often this involved the use of a questionnaire that the candidates filled out and returned to the League, which was then printed in a special election section of the San Joaquin Chronicle and Times. Another favorite project of the group ws to organize debates between candidates in highly contested races. This year, it had appeared to the League that debates would be unnecessary, as several of the races only had one candidate.

There had been talk that Elliott Oswald intended to run against Jacob Hale for Mayor. Then Lumpy Feldstein had been murdered and the tension between SAMCRO and the Mayans was rumored to be the cause. Jacob Hale had made use of that gossip to remind the voters that Elliott had put up the bail money for SAMCRO, leading to the popular boxer's death. Oswald's candidacy was over before it ever began. Things improved when Cat Marshall Trager threw her hat into the ring for a seat on the city council. The smell of a hotly contested race permeated the air, and the League President wasted little time in attempting to set up a debate between Cat and the incumbent.

Councilmember Croucher, long known to be a crony of Jacob Hale's, held court in Floyd's barbershop. Several members of the male voting populace of Charming were present and listening to his tirade against his opponent. "No one really believes that Cat Trager is not a SAMCRO puppet!" He insisted.

"I dunno about that, Councilman," one male drawled wryly. "She made quite a presentation to the contrary a few days ago."

"That was just for show!" Croucher scoffed. "Don't forget she's married to one of those felons. Anyone with half a brain knows their women kowtow to their wishes!"

"Just like anyone who's lived in this town for more than five minutes knows you're Jacob Hale's lap dog!" Another man laughed rudely.

The other men joined in the laughter, causing Croucher's ears to turn bright red. "C'mon! You didn't buy that act her outlaw husband put on for the press! That holds about as much water as a leaky sieve!" Croucher insisted.

"Smells better than some of your recent votes," the first man retorted. "Seems to me that she's the lesser of two evils. At least SAMCRO has kept big business out of here, so that people like Floyd and some of the rest of us can earn a decent living!"

"Yeah! At least she won't look approvingly at every fart that blasts out of Hale's ass!" The second man added.

Croucher sat up straight in the barber chair, rubbing his ear where the scissors had nicked him. "I've served this town faithfully for years!" He protested.

"Sit back and relax," Floyd admonished him. "I damn near cut off your ear!"

Croucher glowered helplessly at the gathering of laughing men. 'If this is an indication of the voting public's thinking, I'm in deep trouble after all!' Despite appearances to the contrary, Croucher was very much concerned about the primary. He hadn't anticipated that his opponent would get the necessary signatures on her petitions to get added to the ballot. Her candidacy was real, and he could no longer afford to ignore it. 'Not while Jacob continues to snub me!'

With the exception of council meetings, Jacob had ceased talking to Croucher since Cat Trager's press conference. He wouldn't return any of Croucher's messages, which was not a good sign. He decided to accept the offer to debate the businesswoman, as the questionnaire wouldn't be sufficient enough to persuade the voters to keep him in office. He had no choice but to face her in public and make her admit that she would dance to SAMCRO's tune after all. 'If I can get her to make such a gaffe, I'm sure to win!'

He returned to his office after he left Floyd's and placed a call to the League of Women Voter's President. "I've decided that I'd like to schedule that debate with Mrs. Trager," he announced.

"Do you have a date in mind?"

"Not at the moment. I know she has two businesses and is still recovering from her injuries. Why don't you find out what works for her, and let me know?" He smiled to himself, believing that he was showing himself in the best possible light by accommodating his opponent's schedule. It would certainly make him look good to the voters!

"That's a good idea. I'll get in contact with Mrs. Trager and get some dates from her, then email the dates to you along with the questionnaire. Just pick out two or three dates in order of preference and let me know what works."

"I'm looking forward to it!" She dialed the number to Charming Pawse, intending to inform the other candidate of the situation. "Is Mrs. Trager there?" She asked Pete when he answered. "This is the San Joaquin League of Women Voters."

"Sorry, ma'am," Pete replied. "I know Miss Cat wanted to talk to you. She's out of town today. Can I take a message?"

"No, it'll wait until tomorrow," the president replied. "Please let her know I'll be calling."

"Yes, ma'am!" Pete replied. He hung up the phone and wrote out a note which he took to the office and laid on the desk. He also called Cat's house and iPhone to leave her messages about the call. "It's me again, Miss Cat. The President of the local League of Women Voters just called. She's going to call you tomorrow. Hope all's well with the trip. See you tomorrow."

---

"How ya feelin', Lady Cat?" StoneCoyote inquired. He was sitting in the back seat of the Challenger, allowing Cat to use his leg as a pillow. He was gravely concerned for the woman the charter had guarded and unofficially adopted just a few weeks ago. Her eyelashes made dark smudges against her cheeks.

He'd insisted that she stretch out in the back of the vintage car while Miles and his crew unloaded the large artillery from the hidden compartment. He pulled rank on her as a concession to Tig's 'request' that he make sure she get as much as rest as possible.

Ima had been given a lift by Tommy Gunn to a nearby restaurant to pick up lunch for the Charming Crew while the unloading was taking place. The Rogue River president had given Tommy implicit instructions to take his time on the food run. He wanted to give Cat plenty of opportunity to rest before making the return trip to Charming.

"I'm fine, darlin'. It's just been a long day," she reassured him without opening her eyes.

"You look better than the last time we saw ya," he replied.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she joked.

"I'm not sure this trip was such a good idea, though," he added tersely.

"Ha! I was waitin' for that! Y'all sound a lot like Tig!"

"He's right." StoneCoyote shrugged.

"Honestly, this couldn't be helped, Stone! The Sanwa Sheriff is itchin' to make an example of SAMCRO, and the Irish weren't willin' to make alternate arrangements."

"No surprise there," StoneCoyote growled. "The Irish are notorious about havin' things done their way! When did the county take over Charmin's law enforcement?"

"Just before the guys went into Stockton," Cat explained, outlining Jacob Hale's end run to shut down CPD. "This sheriff isn't very MC friendly."

"That's rough," StoneCoyote remarked. "Especially because it puts you in harm's way."

"That sounds more like Tig talkin' than you!"

"Guilty as charged," StoneCoyote grinned. "Thing is, you could make things easier on yourself by lettin' Kozik's old lady drive, especially if ya don't want the prospect doin' it for ya."

"No can do, brother," Cat replied. "Tig rebuilt this car for me. It's special."

"So that explains it!" The SAMRRO President moaned.

"Explains what?"

"Tig said you wouldn't consider lettin' anyone else drive this thing!" StoneCoyote gestured at the front of the car. "Now I see what he meant!"

Cat's iPhone blasted the ring tone she'd selected to announce Tig's calls from Stockton. StoneCoyote winced at the obvious joke behind the ring tone. "Speak of the Devil!" She grinned, digging the device from her jacket pocket. She pressed the 'accept' key with a wide smile of anticipation. "Hey love!"

"Hey back! You in Rogue River?"

"Got here a little while ago," she replied. "Y'all will be glad to know that StoneCoyote pulled rank on me!"

"As he should have," Alex remarked. The male smirk evident in his voice.

"Hang on a second, will y'all?" She lowered the phone and settled into an upright position while gazing intently at the SAMRRO President. "Why don't y'all go stretch your legs, darlin'?"

"Ya don't have to tell me twice!" He grinned, sliding out of the car and closing the door behind him.

"Was that StoneCoyote I heard?" Alex growled possessively.

"Sure was. He makes a wonderful pillow!" Cat replied.

"I could've done without that intel!" Alex growled. "Least now I can talk dirty to ya in private!"

"Since when did y'all start worryin' about anyone overhearin' you talkin' dirty?" Cat snorted.

"Just thinkin' of you, baby!"

"I'm sure!" She drawled sarcastically. "It'll interest y'all to know I've found another good use for the back seat besides the one you used it for last!"

"Dammit, woman! You're killin' me with that kind of talk! StoneCoyote better be behavin' himself!"

"He's bein' an absolute gentleman."

"Bullshit!" Alex snorted. "He doesn't know the meanin' of the word!"

"Takes one to know one, and y'all noticed right away!" Cat retorted with a laugh. "Now please stop worryin', love. I'm fine."

"Uh, huh. Anything happen this mornin' I need to know about?"

"If you're askin' whether Gemma and I had a meetin' of the minds, the answer is 'yes'."

"Shit!"

"Relax, love! We buried the hatchet without buryin' it in each other's backs!"

"Jesus Christ, woman! Ya make it sound like no big deal!" Alex protested.

"It wasn't," Cat assured him. "I told her my opinion and why I felt she was out of line. She eventually agreed to see things my way!"

"Shit!" He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. "So I take it you guys are headin' straight back to Charming tonight?"

"Not quite."

"Don't tell me ya agreed to stay overnight and head back tomorrow!"

Cat winced to hear the relief in Alex's voice. "Sorry to break your bubble, stud muffin," she replied apologetically. "We're headin' back after lunch whenever Ima and Tommy Gunn return with the food. We're goin' to stop at the outlet mall on the way back."

"What the fuck?" Alex roared. The other prisoners waiting to make calls muttered at him. He glared back at them but lowered his voice. "You hate shoppin'!"

"Ima pointed out that Lieutenant Roosevelt might get suspicious if we came back from a shoppin' trip without anything to show for it," Cat explained. She didn't mention getting the warning call from Pete. There was nothing her husband could do about it except worry, and he was doing enough of that already!

Alex snorted at the female logic, but it was hard for him to find fault with it. "The broad's got a point, dammit!"

"Nice of y'all to recognize it!" She laughed. "Rest assured, love, that I plan to take a nice nap while Ima and Miles shop 'til they drop."

"I was hopin' you'd say that, baby," Alex crooned approvingly.

"Trust me, love. It'll all work out just fine."

"I'm countin' on it, woman! Get home safe."

"I'll talk to y'all tonight, love. Stay safe yourself."

---

"Ach! They shoulda bin 'ere by noo!" Chibs exclaimed worriedly. Rogue River had called several hours ago to report that Cat and her companions had arrived safely and made the transfer. Additionally, the charter Prez had alerted them when the Challenger had crossed the state line. "Cat wasn't real pleased to have an escort, until we explained the situation with Putlova," StoneCoyote explained.

"I doubt she really believed that," Opie replied. "She was prolly just bein' nice."

"Ha!" StoneCoyote laughed. "Anyway, they're stoppin' at that outlet mall to back up the cover story, just in case they get stopped, so add to the ETA."

"Copy that. Thanks, brother."

Daylight began to surrender to dusk, and there was still no sign or sound of the Dodge. Chibs threw his rag onto the pile waiting to be laundered by the prospects. He crossed the garage like an angry panther.

"Relax, brother," Opie rumbled. "She had plenty of rest before they left. She'll get more while Ima's shoppin'. Cat hates to shop, remember!"

"Ah kin, boot ah didnae lyke alla this waytin'!" Chibs grumbled. He paused long enough to light a cigarette and take a deep inhale.

"Well, unless you can fly like Superman, waitin' is what you're gonna have to do," Opie smiled. "Ya don't see Kozik worryin'!"

"Whaddya call tha'?" Chibs pointed at the acting SAA. Kozik was pacing out in front of the parked bikes. He was puffing so hard on his cigarette that he looked like a steam locomotive.

"Over active smokin'," Opie laughed. "If I hadn't seen ya with Fiona a few weeks ago, I'd wonder if Tig has somethin' to worry about from the way you're actin'!"

"Shite! It isnae lyke tha'!" Chibs snarled. "Shure an Ah loov Cat as tha' sistah Ah nevair 'ad, boot tha's all thair is tuit!"

"Take it easy, Chibs!" Opie raised his hands in surrender. "I was just jokin'!"

"This isn't somethin' to be jokin' about, Ope," Kozik interjected. "We're both concerned about 'em. Cat's not a hunnert percent yet. This trip is gonna take a lot out of her!"

Opie threw the wrench he was holding against the wall. It clanged ominously onto the concrete floor. "Do ya think I'm not aware of that?" He roared. "I'm just as concerned as you two!"

"Coulda fooled us!" Kozik snorted. "That's the first indication you've given of it all day!" His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. "I hope that's Ima!" He exclaimed, tugging it out as he walked away from the garage.

"I am the one that agreed to this in the first place!" Opie reminded Chibs.

"Ye didnae 'ave mooch of a choyce!" Chibs admitted.

"Doesn't make it any easier."

"Aye!"

"They're safe. They just crossed the town line," Kozik reported. "Roosevelt pulled 'em over."

"Shit!" Opie groaned.

"Shite!" Chibs swore.

"Relax!" Kozik grinned. "Ima's text said he didn't find the false bottom and Cat stayed cool. I'm gonna go home!"

"'Tis glad Ah am tha' she's safe an Roosvelt didnae rattle 'er!" Chibs sighed.

"Sounds like it."

"Let's 'ope it'll be awhile afore we need ta' ave 'er mayke tha' trip agin!"

"You'll get no argument from me!"

---

"So what did you find out, El Tee?" Deputy Cane pounced on his superior the moment Roosevelt walked into the building.

"Cat Trager got the slip on us," Roosevelt replied. "She's supposedly off on a shopping trip with a porn star."

Cane winced. "Damn! Talk about strange bedfellows!"

Roosevelt shook his head. "Whatever. They have to come back sometime. When they do, we'll stop 'em and find out what they were really up to."

"You think we'll find anything?" Cane asked.

"Probably not, but we've got to at least try!"

Roosevelt walked into the his office, closing the door behind him. He stared at the files waiting for his approval, sat down at his desk, and laid his head in his hands. "If I had any, this shit would make my hair hurt!" He shook his head, resolutely picked up the first file, and started reading.

Several hours later, a perfunctory tap on the door announced Cane's entrance. "El Tee! CHP just radioed a sighting of that Challenger approaching Charming!"

Roosevelt stood up and followed his deputy out of the building. "Let me stop them first, then you pull in as back up. We'll catch them right at the town line," he instructed.

"Copy that."

As soon as the Challenger passed the Charming town line, a marked SJSD truck pulled onto the road behind it. The red and blue LEDs flashed vivdly from the light bar on the roof.

"Jesus Christ!" Cat yelped, glaring into the rear view mirror.

Lt. Roosevelt hit the siren. A couple of warning 'whoots' sounded from the loudspeaker. He also flipped the headlights from low to high beam and back again in case the siren didn't get her attention.

"I think he means business!" Cat snorted, signaling that she was going to pull into a nearby parking lot. There was plenty of room there for Roosevelt to do his business without garnering the attention of by passers. "Everybody relax. We expected this would happen. Just keep your hands visible and let me do the talkin'."

She put the car in park and turned off the engine. She glanced in the side mirror to watch Roosevelt cautiously approach the driver's side window. She rolled it down and looked up at him. "Evenin', Lieutenant. I suppose y'all want to see my license, registration, and insurance card?"

"That'll do for a start," he rumbled.

"Ima, would y'all open the dog hole and get the pink slip out for me?"

Ima was confused by the request, but brightened when Cat pointed to the glove compartment. She grinned, opened the door, and removed the paper which she handed over to the driver.

Cat put the pink slip with her driver's license and insurance card and handed them to Roosevelt. He passed them on to Deputy Cane, who'd just arrived on the scene as back up.

"Go ahead and run these," Roosevelt instructed.

"Copy that," Cane strode back to his car to make the radio call.

"Care to tell me the reason for the stop?" Cat inquired. "I certainly wasn't speedin'!"

"No, you weren't," Roosevelt admitted. "You were actually going five miles an hour under the speed limit."

"That's not a crime."

"No, but it aroused my suspicions and that's reason enough to stop you. Did you enjoy your excursion today?"

"Very much so."

"Care to open the trunk for me?"

"Do y'all have a warrant?" Cat challenged.

"I can get one, but it'll mean you folks will have to hang around here for awhile until it arrives. That might take awhile."

"Get out of the way of the door so I can get out, then," Cat sighed in resignation. She was playing a role for the law officer's benefit. There was nothing incriminating in the trunk, and she knew Roosevelt would never find the false bottom, plus, she had a little extra insurance to make certain he wouldn't.

Roosevelt stepped aside to allow her to open the car door. Cat climbed out of the driver's seat, limped to the back of the car, unlocked the trunk and stepped back. She motioned with her hand for Roosevelt to open the trunk.

"Aren't you going to open it the rest of the way?"

"Nah. Y'all can do the honors," she drawled. She folded her arms across her chest while Roosevelt reached for the trunk lid. Just as he placed his hand under the lid to raise it, she added, "Watch out for the snake!"

"Shit!" Roosevelt yelped, snatching his hand from the trunk and jumping away from the rear bumper.

The trunk's hydraulics slowly raised to reveal several shopping bags piled in the trunk. Roosevelt peered cautiously inside and frowned angrily at the sight of a large, multi - colored, pink eyed plastic snake lying across the bags.

"Say 'Hello' to Jake the Snake," Cat grinned.

"That's not funny!" Roosevelt growled.

"It is from my point of view!"

Roosevelt snorted and used his baton to move the plastic snake off the bags. 'I wouldn't put it past her to have a real one in there!' He poked the bags with his baton to make sure there was merchandise in them instead of another surprise.

"Lookin' for anything specific?" Cat inquired.

"Just checking out your story," Roosevelt growled.

"Why do you insist on thinkin' that we did somethin' else besides go on a shoppin' trip?"

"Because women don't take a man they're not involved with to go shopping with them!" Roosevelt pointed to Miles.

"Well, Tig's otherwise occupied, and Kozik gets car sick, so we asked one of the staff from the gym to come with us to carry stuff," Cat explained.

"Yeah, right. And bears don't shit in the woods!" Roosevelt retorted.

"Brown and black bears do!" Cat pointed out reasonably. "Sometimes seein' is believin' whether y'all want to or not."

Deputy Cane walked up with Cat's paperwork. "Came back clean, El Tee."

"Sounds like we're done here," Cat drawled.

"I know you pulled something over on me today!" Roosevelt complained.

"Well, all y'all are entitled to your opinion," Cat replied. "We went shoppin'. You've seen the purchases, includin' my little mascot that I couldn't resist buyin' at the outlet mall toy store. I can't make things any more obvious to y'all than that. Sorry it doesn't fit your pre conceived notion."

Roosevelt returned her paperwork to her, favoring her with an intent glare. He knew Cat Trager had gotten something past him, but all he had was suspicions and no proof to back them up. 'What's really annoying me is that sheknows it!'

'The problem with these guys is that they get those blinders on them when they think they know what's goin' on, that they can't see the truth if it reached up and slapped 'em upside the head!' Cat observed wryly.

"Are we free to go now or do y'all want to do some more snoopin'?"

"Get outta here!" Roosevelt snorted angrily. "Just remember I'm going to be keeping my eye on you and that club!"

"As if I could forget!" Cat retorted before sliding behind the steering wheel.

Roosevelt and Cane stood and watched the Challenger pull sedately from the parking lot.

"You don't trust her, do you, El Tee," Cane remarked.

"About as much as I'd trust a cat to guard a mouse."

---

Ima and Miles remained calm until Cat had to get out of the car to unlock the trunk for the Sheriff. With the window down, they didn't dare talk loudly to each other, much less turn around to watch the activity going on behind them.

Ima sneaked a peek at the side mirror on her door. She could see Roosevelt standing on her side of the back of the Dodge, but couldn't see much else. The open driver's side window allowed both her and Miles a chance to hear the lieutenant's startled yelp.

"Guess Cat mentioned the snake," Miles muttered.

"I was surprised that she went into the toy store to look around, but I'm glad she did," Ima murmured without turning.

"You'd be startled if you're warned about it and expectin' a real one!" Miles chuckled.

"Shh! Another SJSD car just pulled up!" Ima hissed.

Deputy Cane appeared not to notice the two passengers sitting in the Challenger. He walked up to Roosevelt, then returned to his car, carrying some papers in his hand.

"Looks like he's gonna run Miss Cat's info," Miles whispered.

"Like it's going to do him any good," Ima murmured. "She's as clean as they come."

"Let's hope so!"

They waited tensely, straining their ears to hear the conversation going on behind them. They relaxed when Cane returned to his supervisor with the paperwork and Cat began to limp back to the car.

Ima pulled her cellphone out of her purse and tapped out a text to Kozik. "In town. Stopped by SJSD. Ran Cat's ppw. LT chkg trunk. Cat's cool, no worries. See you soon."

"Well, that certainly wasn't fun!" Cat remarked. She glared into the rear view mirror at the two SJSD officers standing behind the car. She was tempted to spray them with gravel but settled for driving calmly out of the parking lot. 'No need to borrow any more trouble!'

Miles and Ima both let out a sigh of relief when the Challenger turned onto the street.

"Am I to conclude by that collected rush of air that all y'all were worried?" Cat asked.

"Weren't you?" Miles cried.

"Nah. I knew Roosevelt would never find the false bottom, especially once I rattled his cage about the snake!" She grinned.

"Is that why you bought it?" Ima asked with a small smile.

"That, and it reminded me of one I had as a kid. Same make up, just different colored plastic eyes," Cat replied. "I thought he might come in handy sometime, but never imagined it'd be so soon."

"Cat, you are the worst liar!" Ima laughed as the Challenger purred to a stop in front of her apartment. "You knew it the minute you saw that thing! And I'm glad you did!"

She got out of the car and closed the door, still laughing at her friend's intuition.

Cat slid out of the driver's seat and walked around the back to unlock the trunk. "OK, prospect!" She called. "Time for y'all to earn your keep again!"

Miles sighed in resignation and climbed out of the back seat to gather all of Ima's shopping bags. "I guess you want me to carry these upstairs for you?"

"Nah," Cat growled. "Just stand there and imitate the Statue of Liberty!"

Ima doubled up with laughter. The entire day had been enjoyable for her. Never once had Cat treated her as anything but a friend. She didn't have that kind of relationship with Lyla, her 'Saffron Sister'!

Miles flushed and scurried away from the grinning women towards the stairs leading to Ima's apartment.

"Koz is home!" Ima called out after him. "He'll let you in!"

"I hope so!" Miles grumbled, panting under the weight of the bags in his hands.

Ima and Cat exchanged amused glances as the prospect lumbered up the stairs under his burden. "I had fun today, kitten. Are you going to be able to get Miles to the compound and then home OK?"

"No worries, darlin'. I'll just check in at the compound with Chibs, then go home and crash." Cat assured her.

"Don't worry about the gym, tomorrow, kitten. I'll take care of things there." Ima replied.

"I'll take y'all up on that!" She grinned. "It's been awhile since all I've ever worried about is the coffeehouse."

'We'll see about that!' Ima thought as she reached out to hug her friend. "Text me when you get home so I don't worry!"

"Yes, Mother!" Cat grinned, limping back to the car as Miles rushed down the stairs. He moved much faster now that he wasn't carrying his burden of shopping bags.

"Ready to go, prospect?" Cat inquired.

"Yes ma'am!" Miles replied, sliding into the front passenger seat.

Ima walked on up the stairs while Cat watched out for her. She waved from the balcony in front of her doorway and opened the door. Behind her, she heard the Challenger's hemi engine roar into life.

"Did ya leave anything at the store for the other shoppers?" Kozik grinned, sweeping her into his arms in welcome.

"Of course!" Ima squealed. "Put me down a minute!"

"What's wrong?" Kozik inquired in sudden concern. "Did I hurt ya?"

"Nope. Just need to make a phone call is all," Ima replied. "Once I'm done, my attention will be all on you!"

"That's more like it!" Kozik grinned. He reached down, picked up all the bags in both hands, and carried them into the bedroom so Ima could make her call in private.

---

Cat was wakened by the shrill ringing of the bedside telephone. She reached out without removing her sleep mask to lift the receiver before the phone could go to voice mail. "Hullo?" Her voice was thick from sleep.

"Did I wake you?" Her father's amused voice remarked.

"Nah. I had to answer the phone," she replied. "How are you?"

Misty, who was curled up in a ball at her side, lifted her head and mewed in protest over being disturbed. Cat petted her head and the cat curled back into a drowsy ball of fur. Ming and Ebony never stirred at the foot of the bed.

"I feel kinda lousy today." Blaine admitted.

"What's wrong? Tired from the exercises?"

"No. I caught a stomach virus."

That wasn't good. Her father's many years of cancer treatments had played havoc with his immune system. A simple cold had the potential to turn into a serious illness. "Are you stayin' hydrated?"

"They're treating it accordingly," he replied evasively.

"I realize that, since they haven't called for permission to give you an IV," Cat stated. "But are you drinkin' clear soda or water or somethin'?"

"Isn't it kind of late for you to still be in bed?" Her father countered.

Cat grinned at his obvious attempt to change the topic from his welfare to hers. "I'm not sure, Daddy. What time is it there?"

"A little after three in the afternoon. I tried to call you at lunch so you could talk to your mother, but I had to make tracks."

"Thanks for sharin'!" Cat winced. "I could've done without that mental image!"

"Well, I didn't have a childish accident!" He laughed. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Well, that makes it a little after noon here, so it is probably time for me to get up," she admitted.

"Were you up late?"

"No, I had to drive out of town to get supplies for the gym. I was pretty tired when I got home."

"You're trying to do too much too soon, honey!" Her father protested.

"Y'all seem to be channelin' Alex!" She retorted laughingly. "He's always givin' me that sermon!"

"Good for him! Doesn't he have employees who can handle that gym in his absence?"

"He does. They're good people, but I feel better keepin' a hand on the tiller," she grinned.

"That sounds familiar for some reason."

"Gee, I wouldn't know who could've possibly served as my example!" She chortled.

"Well, you should pay more attention to the two of us. We men do know a few things!"

"Yes, y'all do," she admitted reluctantly. "But the trip couldn't be put off to a better time. I have the POA for the gym, so I had to go. I got to try out the Challenger!"

"I'm sure it performed satisfactorily. Alex seems to know his way around mechanical things," her father observed. "I'm about due to therapy, so I'd better put an end to this. Give the kitty cats a pat on the head so they know they're appreciated."

"I will, Daddy. You take care of yourself, and do what the nurses tell y'all to do."

"I don't have much choice. I love you, honey."

"Love y'all too, Daddy. Talk to you tomorrow."

Cat placed the receiver on the phone cradle and reached down to stroke Misty's fur. The little cat's purr and dainty licks to her hand made her feel less sad about the empty, cold space in the bed next to her. "I suppose you three want your breakfast!"

Three furry heads lifted from the bed while six ears perked up at the mention of 'food'. Ebony and Ming stretched and leapt to the floor, racing pell mell down the hall to the kitchen.

Misty also stretched, but then sat on the bed with here tail wrapped around her front paws, watching her person slide from the bed and begin her waking routine.

'Y'all know my wake up habits quite well, don't you, little girl?"

Misty blinked her eye, then hopped to the floor and followed her person into the bathroom, rubbing her whiskers against Cat's legs in a demand for pets. When Cat ventured out of the bathroom, Misty led her to the kitchen and sat with her siblings, waiting patiently for her food bowl to be filled.

Ming and Ebony complained loud and long about their empty bowls and stomachs. They weaved around her legs as Cat mixed kibble and canned food in the bowls. Their plaintive yowls to be fed right "ME - NOW!" filling the kitchen.

"Christ! A stranger would think all y'all hadn't been fed for a year from your caterwaulin'!" She exclaimed. She waded past the mobile furry obstacles to place the bowls on the floor mats and stepped back to watch the three felines gobble and purr over their long awaited meal.

"Wonder if I missed any calls this mornin'?" She knew about the League of Women Voters call from Pete's message the day before. Thinking of that made her wonder why Pete or any of the other coffeehouse employees hadn't called to check on her.

Sure enough, there was a voice mail message from the President of the League, requesting Cat call her back at her earliest convenience. 'I'll contact my employees after this call,' she decided. She dialed the number and waited to see if she'd be playing another round of phone tag.

"Hello?"

"Hey! This is Cat Marshall Trager, returnin' your call," she announced.

"Oh! Thank you for calling me back, Mrs. Trager. How was your trip yesterday?"

"Productive and exhaustin'. Guess I'm not recovered enough yet to tolerate that kind of journey," she admitted. "What can I do for y'all?"

The woman informed Cat of her attempt to set up a public debate between her and the incumbent councilman. "Mr. Croucher left the date open to accommodate your schedule, Mrs. Trager. He gave me a list of dates that work for him."

"Wow. That's a mighty nice thing for him to do," Cat replied. Her tone of voice sounded snarky to her. She hoped the President didn't pick up on it.

"Quite," she replied just as wryly. "There's also a questionnaire that I'd like to send to you, Mrs. Trager."

"That's fine, but please just call me Cat."

"If you'd be kind enough to fill out the questionnaire and return it to me, Cat, I'll forward it to the San Joaquin papers."

"That sounds reasonable. That questionnaire sounds a lot like what the Terre Haute group used to do when I was workin' in radio." She provided her personal email address and checked her calendar on her iPhone. "I can tell y'all that Friday and Saturday evenin's don't work for me."

"Those are the nights you keep the coffeehouse open late for the kids," she replied.

"Yes, ma'am. Every other Wednesday night is the business owner's association meeting, and I keep Sundays private."

"I'm sure we can find a night that will work for you both," the President assured her.

"Mr. Croucher is sending me three dates his preferred order. Just do the same for me when you return the completed questionnaire."

"Thanks for includin' me. I'll be watchin' for that email."

"Thank you for making this election a little more interesting," the League President stated before disconnecting.

Cat made coffee for herself and took a shower, then ate before she looked up Pete's personal number. It was past time for him to be off work by then, so she didn't bother to try reaching him at the coffeehouse.

"Did you sleep well, Miss Cat?" He greeted her gleefully when he answered.

Probably too much, kiddo. Why didn't all y'all check in with me?"

"Miss Ima's orders," he replied. "She called last night and left a message at the coffeehouse that you weren't to be disturbed if you didn't come in at the usual time today. She said you were about to drop from exhaustion."

"Oh, she did, did she?" Cat growled. She wanted to sound menacing, but Pete could tell she was touched by all their concern. "Didn't you warn her that I might not be very appreciative of that?"

"I did, but Miss Ima said that you could just take it up with her!" Pete laughed.

"How nice that other people feel comfortable makin' my decisions for me!" She complained.

"Mr. Tig would've said the same thing!" Pete reminded her. "It's only because we care."

"I know, darlin', and I do appreciate the thought behind it," Cat assured him. "How'd everything go without me?"

"Everything went well, otherwise I would've contacted you in spite of Miss Ima's order," Pete replied. "I added the Stockton sales to the weekly reports."

"How'd we do?"

"The Snicker Bar Muffins are the top seller," Pete laughed.

"I'm not surprised. Wouldn't surprise me to find out Tig bought the entire inventory!"

"We sold out of 'em. It's a good thing you doubled the order on them! Bobby's Banana Bread nearly sold out, and the cheesecake bites were a top seller. I think we'd better double up on those items, too."

"It sounds like you're right," Cat observed.

"What didn't sell well?"

"Everything sold more than half of the initial inventory the first week," Pete reported. "I think we'll do all right just bringing all the cookies, scones, and other muffins to the full 100 count."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be sure to check the report over tomorrow."

"So you're not going in to either business?"

"Nah, I'm goin' to take the rest of the day off."

"I told Miss Anna you would!" Pete laughed.

"Thanks a lot, Pete," she replied emphatically. "For everything."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Cat. Enjoy your day off."

---

Life for SAMCRO and the women settled into a routine during the succeeding days and weeks. The club's old ladies took one day to contact various area charities to ask about fund raising opportunities. The agencies were more than happy to allow the club to raise money for them. The women worked it out so that the charity runs would fall on the same days that the Irish would deliver the guns for SAMCRO to ferry North.

"It's a good idea, but what if Roosevelt doesn't buy it?" Opie inquired when he reviewed the set up.

"I thought about that," Cat replied. "If the rides are thrown open to anyone who rides, whether they're in clubs or lone wolves like me, Roosevelt won't have any choice but to accept the runs for what they are."

"But won't allowing rival clubs in cause unnecessary trouble?" Lyla asked.

"There's an unwritten understanding between SAMCRO and the Mayans when it comes to charity runs," Gemma explained.

"Aye. We agree ta set aside 'ostilities fer tha gud o'tha cause," Chibs added.

"Thank God for the cause!" Ima laughed. "Otherwise we'd have one big rolling rumble on our hands, and I'm not talking about the engines!"

"What's this 'we' stuff?" Tara challenged the actress in a snide matter. "Your kind of riding doesn't count!"

"Hey!" Cat growled. "Bitch ridin' counts!"

"I wasn't talking about that!" Tara retorted.

Ima's face flushed with hurt and anger. Her eyes filled with tears that she struggled to fight back. 'I'm not going to cry in front of that bitch!'

"I doubt that any of the guys from other clubs would show their ass in front of civilians by pickin' a fight," Cat observed.

"That's true. And the Grim Bastards have always had SAMCRO's back," Opie stated, glaring intently at Tara and Cat. "If anyone in the clubs forget their manners, there'll be plenty of men to remind them!"

"If I were riding in one of these runs, I'd definitely carry!" Gemma remarked.

"So will I," Cat acknowledged. "How come you've never considered buyin' a bike, Gem?" Cat was inwardly seething over Tara's hateful remark about Ima, but she was willing to turn the conversation to something safe to keep the peace amongst the women.

"It never occurred to me to do so. I like bitch ridin', but have never really wanted to own one of my own. Guess I'm not as adventurous as you, Cat!"

"What got you into riding and owning your own bike, Cat?" Lyla asked.

"My cousins. They had a Harley and took me for rides. I loved the feeling, but hated havin' someone ferry me around. When I moved out on my own, I bought a bike!"

"That doesn't surprise me," Gemma grinned.

"More women own their own bikes these days," Cat added. "Hell, a few decades ago in Indiana, I had my own riding group."

"You had a girl outlaw group?" Tara sneered.

"No, I had a ridin' group. We weren't allowed to be a MC," Cat corrected the physician. "We were a kind of little sister group to the local MC, but we weren't allowed rockers. Nor was the MC allowed to consider us their property. We showed respect to them and vice versa. A little something that seems to be missin' around here at the moment!"

"Hmpf!" Tara sniffed. "Considering all the injuries I've treated from motorcycle accidents, I'm just as happy with owning a car!"

"Me too!" Lyla spoke up.

"I'd love to learn to ride my own bike," Ima stated. "As much as I love riding with Kozik, I'd really like to have my own bike."

"Why bother when you're so well suited to bitch riding?" Tara smirked. The doctor was deliberately baiting the porn star. She was not pleased that Kozik had chosen her one time rival for Jax to be his old lady. That, in Tara's opinion, was a sign of disrespect to her position as Jax's old lady. She'd said as much to Gemma when she learned that Ima and Kozik were together.

"How can he be allowed to shack up with her?" Tara raged. "Isn't there some kind of club rule that a member can't get it on with a former fuck buddy of another member?"

"No, there's not. You're not the first old lady to feel that way," Gemma admitted. "But Kozik's made his choice. He has that right just as much as Jax and the other guys. Jax has chosen to be with you, that should make you happy."

"It does, but I'd be even happier if that bitch was a thousand miles away from Jax!" Tara stated.

"You know," Gemma drawled, "it wasn't so long ago that you and I were questionin' Opie about his involvement with Lyla."

"That's different!" Tara protested. "We were thinking about the kids! She showed up out of the blue to take them from our care without us knowing a thing about it! Besides, Donna wasn't even cold in her grave when Lyla started wiggling her ass in front of Opie's face!"

"Face it, sweetheart. You don't like porn stars. Don't forget my best friend was in the industry," Gemma reminded her.

"I haven't. And you're right. They do make me uncomfortable," Tara admitted.

"Fine. I'm not sayin' that you have to embrace Ima -"

"That's never going to happen!" Tara scathingly interjected.

"Like I was sayin'. I do expect you to be civil to her when we're all together. There are going to be times when we have to include her."

"I don't like it!" Tara complained.

"Neither do I, but we don't have any choice as long as she's Kozik's choice."

As Clay predicted, Lyla followed Gemma's lead when it came to including Ima within the old ladies. Gemma was civil but remote to the other actress. Tara could barely contain her dislike for Ima. Lyla felt that she couldn't openly welcome her 'Saffron Sister' to the fold, but she didn't outright snub Ima. Out of the entire group, only Cat treated her like an accepted equal.

The women had chosen to meet at the clubhouse to work on the charity rides project. It was a large, open space where they wouldn't possibly get on each others never, but Tara's last snide remarks about Ima pushed Cat past her breaking point.

"Too bad we couldn't check our mouths at the door along with our guns!" Cat snarled, ignoring Mile warning look to stare angrily at Tara. "Some women have a tremendous ability to use words as weapons."

"What are you talking about Cat?" Tara exclaimed.

"If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and has feathers like a duck, it's likely a duck," Cat stated firmly. "Y'all are bein' a bitch for no good reason and it needs to stop."

"I was simply stating the obvious truth!" Tara retorted.

Lyla squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She wanted to stand up for her co - worker, but she was afraid to rock the boat. 'I don't dare stand up to Gemma or Tara; they could make my life a living Hell with Opie! Why doesn't that concern Cat?'

"It's not important, Cat," Ima murmured dejectedly.

"It is when someone's takin' a shit all over your dream!" Cat hissed. "Someone around here needs to grow up!"

"Maybe someone else needs to keep her nose out of business that doesn't concern her!" Tara exploded. She stood up so fast that her chair flew across the floor and landed on its' side. She rushed angrily from the clubhouse.

"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!" Cat muttered darkly.

Gemma glared at Tig's wife, then followed her protege.

"You probably shouldn't have said that, Cat," Ima sighed. She appreciated Cat's loyalty, but worried that her friend was putting herself at risk.

Gemma rushed to catch up with the fleeing doctor. Tara was storming across the parking lot to her Cutlass, muttering under her breath.

Gemma caught up with her protege and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to turn around. "What was all that about in there?" She hissed.

"I can't stand being in the same room with that bitch!" Tara cried angrily. "She screwed Jax!"

Gemma frowned at her protege. "How much of this is genuine upset about Jax bein' unfaithful and about you bein' pregnant?"

Tara stopped to consider the question. "I - I don't know!" She cried. "All I know is every time I see that bitch, I want to tear her eyes out!"

"If you're going to fly off the deep end every time Jax fucks some slut, you're going to make yourself and everyone around you miserable!"

"But I told Jax when we started living together that I couldn't take cheating! Then he goes and cheats with her!"

"Would it have been any easier to accept if he'd screwed a Croweater or another porn star?" Gemma asked bluntly.

"No, it wouldn't!"

"So you're pissed that he screwed Ima, who was once your biggest rival," Gemma observed.

Tara thought that over and nodded, "Exactly!"

"That's the problem," Gemma replied.

"What do you mean?"

"You just said a minute ago that Jax screwed Ima, yet you're givin' him a free pass and shootin' verbal arrows at her!" Gemma pointed out.

"She knew I was seeing Jax, and she went after him anyway!" Tara protested.

"Lemme tell you somethin', sweetheart," Gemma stated flatly. "Men like Jax will always screw around. It's just the way they are. To them it's like takin' a piss, a way to let off steam. Especially when they're on the road. The thing you have to do is make sure Jax never brings it home - back to Charming."

Tara gazed intently at her mentor. "That's why you took the skateboard to Cherry, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Gemma shrugged. "I thought she'd come over from Nevada because of Clay."

"Maybe if you'd asked first, you'd have found out she was in love with Half Sack!" Tara grinned.

"Watch it, girl!" Gemma growled. "The thing is, I know Clay's gonna fuck around when the club's on the road. I told him up front it was OK with me, just don't bring it home and throw it in my face. If he's done anything local, he makes sure I don't know about it."

"And you think I should do the same thing?" Tara inquired grimly.

"I know you should," Gemma replied. "Otherwise you're going to be one very insecure and unhappy old lady."

---

Filthy Phil ambled out from behind the bar to the door of the chapel. Opie was inside making arrangements with SAMRRO about the next few charity ride/gun runs.

"The girls have been workin' these out for us, Stoney," Opie explained. "And we have Cat's Challenger takin' care of the larger munitions. I think we're goin' to be OK."

He frowned at the sound of tapping at the door. "Hang on a minute," he left the speaker phone on and called out, "Enter!"

The door opened and Phil took one step into the room. "We've got trouble, boss."

'Shit!' Opie thought. "Feds?"

"No, the women," Phil stated flatly. "Cat and Tara exchanged words. Tara stormed out with Gemma on her heels."

"Jesus Christ!" Opie moaned. "That's all I need!"

"Not tryin' to interfere, bro, but if Lady Cat felt the need to tell another old lady off, she prolly had good reason," StoneCoyote mused.

"Thing is, Tara is the VP's old lady," Opie explained. He waved for Phil to leave the chapel.

Phil hastily departed, pulling the door closed behind him. He shuffled back across the clubhouse to the bar.

"Did y'all report me to the boss?" Cat called out across the large common room.

Phil flushed at her teasing. "Yes, ma'am! He needed to know what's going on."

"I hear y'all," she nodded, leaning back against the sofa in a relaxed pose.

"Shit!" StoneCoyote whistled. "Glad I'm not in your shoes, brother. But I still stand by Lady Cat."

"I know. Doesn't make it any easier, though. Talk to ya later." Opie sighed and closed the burner, shoving it in his jeans pocket. He pulled at his beard as he stood up and walked out of the chapel towards the couch where Cat, Lyla, and Ima were sitting.

"Hey, lover!" Lyla smiled up at him.

Opie merely nodded, standing in front of the trio with his arms crossed over his chest. "Care to tell me what happened between you and Tara?" He rumbled.

Lyla's bright smile fled from her lips at Opie's rebuff. He was all business at the moment, and that business was finding out what had gone on between the two old ladies.

"Tara was being incredibly bitchy to Ima and she went too far. I called her on it and she stormed out with Gemma on her heels. I'm hopin' she went to talk some sense into her," Cat explained.

"That's exactly what I did," Gemma announced, moving towards the small group. She'd entered the clubhouse so quietly that no one, including Phil and Miles, had seen her.

Phil leaned against the bar, watching the drama unfold across the room from him. "Man, this is better than one of those TV talk shows!"

"Don't let them catch ya watchin'," Miles advised, studiously drying a glass.

Gemma looked across the room at them and gave them her own version of 'the look'. Phil quickly began polishing the already shining bar.

"Did y'all have any luck calmin' 'The Little Princess'?" Cat inquired.

"That's a little disrespectful, don't ya think?" Gemma growled.

"Tara has to give respect to get it," Cat snorted. "Just because she's the VP's old lady doesn't give her the right to treat Ima like somethin' she found on the bottom of her boots after traispin' through a wet cow pasture!"

Opie and Gemma winced to keep from laughing out loud at her colorful declaration. Phil let out a chortle that earned him a glare from the acting Prez. He rubbed even harder at the gleaming wood.

"I honestly don't see why 'The Little Princess' has her drawers in a wad anyway," Cat added. "Ima's obviously happy with Kozik; Tara's back together with Jax and carryin' his child. There was no excuse for her to talk down to Ima and shit all over her dream!"

"I like your outspokenness and sense of loyalty, Cat, but if ya call Tara 'The Little Princess' one more time, I'll take a skateboard to ya!" Gemma growled warningly.

"Sorry, Gemma. Tara reminds me way too much of my oldest female cousin. She was the first born and acted like her shit didn't stink. We gave her that nickname because of her attitude." Cat explained.

"I don't care! I just don't want to hear it again!"

"Gotcha," Cat replied in a sincerely contrite tone of voice.

"Not that I don't appreciate the back up, but Tara's got good reason for being upset with me," Ima stated. "I did chase after Jax like a female dog in heat."

"Nobody made him get it on with y'all!" Cat retorted.

"Wait a minute! I'm missin' somethin'!" Opie interjected. "What exactly did ya mean about Tara shittin' on Ima's dream."

Cat and Ima exchanged looks. "Y'all goin' to tell him?"

Ima sighed in resignation. "We were talking about women riders, and Cat asked Gemma why she never bought a bike of her own. That's when I mentioned wanting to own a bike, and Tara made a nasty remark about it." She looked down at the floor and added softly. "I guess you find it funny."

Opie wasn't surprised by the actress' admission. At one time, the idea of a woman owning and operating her own bike had been a foreign entity to the club. That was before Cat moved to Charming. She had her own bike and rode it on her own all over the county. She would always give the club a cheery 'thumbs up' whenever they passed on the road or the streets of Charming. Up until that time, the club were only aware of women bitch riding. Juice did some internet research and informed the club that many women did indeed own and operate bikes and that some women belonged to MCs of their own.

"I don't think it's anything to laugh at," Opie assured her. "Don't ya like bitch ridin' with Kozik?"

"I love it, but I want be up front, too. It gets a little boring sitting on the back with nothing to do but hold on to him," Ima explained. "Not that I'm complaining about it, mind you."

"I hope not!" Kozik exclaimed as he walked into the clubhouse. He'd come in on the tail end of the conversation, and though it surprised him to learn that his girl wanted to own a bike, it didn't bother him. "I kinda enjoy havin' ya at my back!"

"Ownin' your own bike isn't a bad thing," Opie added.

"Hell, I'd be more than happy to help y'all find a decent bike!" Cat offered. "I think a 350 or 450 CC to start off with would be good."

"Isn't that a little powerful for a woman?" Lyla asked.

"Not for a starter, baby," Opie informed her.

"Y'all want a bike that's not goin' to overwhelm you and be able to keep up with other bikes," Cat added. "A 250CC will get y'all around, but it's not very comfortable for any distance ridin'."

"What makes you think I'd want to do any distance riding?" Ima asked defensively.

"I've saw the wistful expression on your face while we were plannin' the charity runs," Cat explained. "I could see that y'all have the owner/ridin' bug and you got bit hard. If y'all want to keep up with the group, a 250 won't do that."

"I don't know, Cat. Maybe I shouldn't bother with it." Ima replied solemnly. "In fact, maybe I shouldn't take part in any more of these club activities."

"Wait a minute!" Kozik protested. "Why would ya wanna do that?"

"Tara was giving Ima a rough time about sleeping with Jax," Gemma explained.

"I knew she doesn't like me, and that was OK," Ima continued. "I thought being in a group like this wouldn't cause any trouble."

"It shouldn't have!" Lyla exclaimed.

"I wish you'd said something a lot earlier, Lyla," Ima sighed. "Your silence made me think you were on Tara's side."

"I didn't want to cause any trouble for Opie," Lyla admitted.

"Look, what you girls do has nothin' to do with us!" Kozik exclaimed. "You're grown and can fight your own battles. You don't need us fightin' your battles amongst ourselves!"

"Now's a fine time to let her know that!" Cat grumbled.

"All right! There's nothin' we can do about what's already happened!" Opie replied.

"Gemma, did it seem to you like Tara's goin' to come around?"

"Yeah. Maybe," she shrugged. "It's gonna take time."

"That's why I think it's best if I stay away except when there's a big get together or a lock down," Ima explained. "The less I'm around to cause Tara upset, the better."

"That's bullshit!" Kozik retorted. "Tara's just gonna have to accept you!"

"What if she can't?" Ima inquired flatly.

"That's her problem," Opie declared. "I'm not gonna order you to stay away, with or without Kozik. That's all there is to it!"

"Sounds like a deal to me," Cat nodded. "As for gettin' yourself a bike, if Koz can't go along with y'all to look at 'em, give me a holler."

"We'll see," Ima sighed. But there was a small note in her voice that indicated she hadn't completely given up on the idea.

---

"Have you met with Mrs. Trager and Herman Kozik about the facade changes?" Ethan Zobelle asked without preamble.

Jacob Hale rolled his eyes, thankful that Zobelle didn't utilize Skype or some other type of video conferencing. "I've not had the chance, sir," Hale stated.

"You mean that you've not made the time, Jacob," Zobelle corrected.

"I've been having nightmares and flashbacks since my office was violated!" Hale retorted. "I'm tired!"

"Ah, you complain of suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome," Zobelle purred. "Yet you were only in Salazar's possession for a few hours. Dr. Knowles was held by the outlaw for days, but she has gone on about her business! Are you that weak, Jacob?"

"Of course not, sir!" Hale protested. He winced that his protest sounded more like a whine than a challenge.

"I hope not," Zobelle replied silkily. "Quit wasting time and set up a meeting with them. The Liberty Street project needs to continue, and it can't without their agreeing to the plans for their building."

"Yes, sir," Hale sulked.

"You have the blueprints to share with them, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I expect better news the next time I call. And Jacob?"

"Sir?"

"No going off on one of your tangents. You can't afford it - literally and figuratively." The line went dead in Hale's ear. He closed the cell phone, fighting the urge to throw it across the room.

He was reluctant to meet with Cat Trager and Herman Kozik. It would be another reminder of his failure to secure 'Lumpy's Gym' to make the Liberty Street Project whole. Now it had a big hole in it, and he was having to pay out of pocket to make the gym a part of the plan.

'I can't afford to make Mr. Zobelle any madder at me than he already is!' Hale sighed to himself. 'I've got to make the call!'

Contacting Cat Marshall was going to be easier than going out to Teller - Morrow to speak with Kozik. 'If I make arrangements with her, she'll contact him. One less distasteful thing I'll have to do!'

He tried the coffeehouse, but learned from CJ that she was at the gym. He called the gym next, but learned that he'd just missed her. He didn't have her cell phone number, but did have the number to her house.

"Ms. Marshall, this is Jacob Hale. I need to speak with you and Herman Kozik about the rehab to the gym's facade. Would you call me back at your earliest convenience?"

He started to hang up, but returned the mouthpiece to his face and added, "Please. Thank you in advance."

He returned the receiver to the cradle and paced his den before pouring a generous helping of bourbon into a crystal tumbler. He drank all of it down, wincing against the burn trailing down his throat to his stomach. The warmth of the liquor coursed through his body, helping him relax. He poured another generous amount in the tumbler and sat down in his chair to wait for a return call.

---

Cat was more than pleased with the steady growth in the gym memberships. The cross promotion coupons had helped to get people into the door out of curiosity. The additions of the workout rooms and exercise classes encouraged the curious to return. Many took out annual memberships while others took out trial memberships then converted to annual ones.

The cross promotion also brought in more customers to 'Charming Pawse'. The Stockton concession was also proving to be a successful venture. The profits more than paid for the supplies. The only problem marring the successes was that the book exchange portion of the coffeehouse had grown stagnant.

"The books just aren't moving any more, Miss Cat," Pete reported. "People aren't bringing new ones in or taking out what's on the shelves."

"I've noticed that. We've got the two die hards who come in every day to read durin' the mornin' lull, but people just aren't interested in hard copy any more."

"That's because smart phones have these reader apps, Cat," Dawn spoke up.

"I know, darlin'. I'm guilty of havin' one of those on my iPhone," she admitted. She was inwardly proud of her step - daughter. Despite the rocky start, Dawn was a hard worker and had become accepted as one of them by her staff. That led to her attendance at the weekly staff meeting. Pete graciously retrieved her from her home to the coffeehouse for the weekly get togethers. That enabled Dawn to get important information with the rest of the staff and made her feel that much more a part of things.

"All the kids have tablets and smart phones now," Miss Anna noted. "And Kindles, Nooks, and other electronic readers. They are easier to carry around than books, and you can carry your whole library in your purse or pocket."

"I know," Cat sighed. "I hate to bring an end to the book exchange, but it's takin' up space that we could use for displayin' the merchandise and givin' more exposure to Adrian's artwork and Tina Lou's crafts."

"Especially with all the new customers the cross promotion is bringing in!" Adrian replied.

"What about the die hards?" CJ inquired. "We don't want to lose their business!"

"No, we don't," Cat acknowledged. "There has to be a happy medium."

The group thought about the problem for a while, then Dawn raised her hand. "I have an idea."

"Let's hear it, darlin'," Cat replied. "I'm out of answers!"

"Well, we could ask the die hards for their top twenty five favorite books on the wall, and save those books for them," Dawn suggested. "Maybe the other books could go to a Senior Citizen Center and the kids' books to some reading program or to child care centers."

The employees gazed at each other, then at their employer. The silence made Dawn squirm nervously in her seat. Cat thought over her step - daughter's suggestion for a few minutes, then nodded approvingly. "I think that's a great idea, darlin'!"

"You do?" Dawn asked incredulously.

"I do," she affirmed. "It gets the die hards involved and the remainder of the books will find good use somewhere else! I like it!"

"You're not just sayin' that because I'm your step - daughter are you?" Dawn muttered.

"No, she's not," Miss Anna explained. "If Miss Cat likes your idea, it's because it has merit!"

"I didn't mean any offense," Dawn mumbled rebelliously.

"None taken, Dawn. Once you get to know the boss better, you'll believe that what you see is what you get," CJ assured her.

"It's such a good idea that I don't need to ask for any others," Cat added. "In fact, I'm goin' to let you draw up the questionnaire for the die hards!"

"You are?" Dawn gasped in delighted surprise.

"Sure. Pete, why don't you set her up on the computer, and let her play around with the templates?"

"C'mon, Dawn! I'll set you up with an account so you can get started!"

Dawn followed Pete into the office, a scowl crossing her face. The only reason she'd made the suggestion was to see if she'd get access to the computer. 'I'm gettin' access, but not what I want!' She fumed.

Sure enough, though Pete set her up with an account of her own to work from, she was limited to the basic programs and internet access. There was no access to the account information she wanted. 'Might as well do what I came in to do. Maybe it'll get me closer to what I want,' Dawn comforted herself. She worked out a questionnaire, adding some images from the internet to make the page more eye catching. She sent the sample to the printer, then took it out to the break room where the meeting was being held. "What do you think?" She asked, handing the sample to her step - mother.

Cat looked it over and grinned. "That's very good. Can you run a second copy?"

"Already did," Dawn stated. "They might've stuck together?"

Cat shuffled the paper and found the second copy. "Good work, darlin'!"

Dawn flushed with pleasure and settled back in her seat. CJ and Adrian thumped her back in congratulations.

"Thanks, Dawn!" Miss Anna smiled.

"Next time the die hards come in, give this to them and explain why we're takin' this route," Cat instructed.

"Will do, Miss Cat," Pete acknowledged.

"And if they list more than 25, that's OK. We can keep one part of the wall for them if we need to."

---

Kozik pulled his Dyna to a stop in front of 'Lumpy's Gym'. He backed the motorcycle against the curb and shut off the engine, placing his helmet on the gas tank before dismounting.

The parking lot beside the gym was filled with cars. The sigh made Kozik smile in satisfaction. 'The more vehicles in the lot, the more money in the pot!' He glanced up at the sound of another bike coming down the street. He frowned to see Cat on her Yahama 750 and crossed his arms over his chest while she parked next to him. "Where's your helmet, woman? And what the fuck are ya doin' on that contraption?"

"The helmet's at home and I'm ridin' this 'contraption'. It's a motorcycle," Cat retorted.

"What's Tig gonna say when he finds out you're ridin' without your helmet?" Kozik inquired.

"Are y'all plannin' on rattin' me out?"

"Nah, but he might still find out." Kozik explained.

"Guess we'll see about that." Cat grinned, pushing her wrap around sunglasses up her nose with the middle finger. She had continued to gain strength with each day after the successful gun run. The bruises were gone and the cracked bones had finally healed. The only reminder of her near brush with Mr. Reaper was the scar under her eye and her increased light sensitivity.

The day she was allowed to go off for a ride on her motorcycle was a great day for her. She'd missed riding, and took to taking the bike to 'Lumpy's Gym' and every place else she needed to go that didn't require either of the cars. The one downfall was that Alex wasn't accompanying her. She missed his presence on her left whenever she was on the Yamaha more than she anticipated. She didn't mind solo trips, but always made sure she had plenty of water and a charged cell phone in case of a breakdown. 'Alex won't be around to come to my rescue for quite a while!' She reminded herself with a wry grimace. She had him to thank for keeping her bike in tip top shape after that breakdown he'd helped her with months ago and she didn't want to burden the club members with worrying about her when she was out.

"Hale's here," Kozik announced, pointing at the Mercedes Benz pulling to a stop across from them.

"Glad he's on time. I hate havin' to wait!" Cat muttered, dismounting from her own bike to stand on the sidewalk next to Kozik.

Hale got out of his car, carrying a leather covered tube with a shoulder strap in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He crossed the street, stepping up to the sidewalk to greet the two business owners.

"Thank you for meeting me here," Hale stated simply. "Is there somewhere here we can talk privately?"

Cat and Kozik exchanged amused glances at Hale's hubris. "We can talk in the office. Follow me."

The trio walked through the repaired lobby, which included the restored glass cases. The trophies were back on display, while the glass check out desk held sweatshirts, towels, head bands, and t shirts with the gym logo on it.

"So you're selling merchandise now?" Hale inquired, glancing at the display case.

"Yeah," Kozik snorted. "Why not?"

"No offense, Mr. Kozik. It just took me by surprise," Hale replied.

"Cat's idea. The stuff comes from the same vendor that makes her shit for the coffee house," Kozik explained.

"Are all y'all goin' to natter like a couple of hens in the churchyard?" Cat grumbled.

Kozik grinned and nudged Hale. "Never keep a lady waitin', man."

"I guess not," Hale muttered, following Kozik to the office. He was surprised at how many people were using the facilities. Not just boxers in training, but men and women were working out and exercising.

"Business looks good," he observed.

"Yeah," Kozik growled, waiting for Hale to precede him into the office.

Hale scampered into the glass walled office where Cat was already sitting at a small table where the staff gathered for meetings. Kozik sat down next to her, leaving Hale standing alone.

"Cop a squat, Mr. Hale. We're not much for standin' on ceremony around here," Cat waved at the table.

Hale put his leather belongings on the table but remained standing. He opened the tube and withdrew some rolled up paper that he spread out in front of Kozik and Cat.

"What's this?" Kozik asked.

"The plans for the facade," Hale answered.

"What's this shit next to the gym?"

"It's a hotel," Hale stated.

"What's that goin' to do to the parkin' lot?" Cat asked dryly.

"It's going to get paved, and will be available to both hotel and gym guests," Hale replied. "You see, we plan to have a connecting door between the hotel and the gym so the hotel patrons can use it."

"Oh, really?" Cat drawled. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave Hale 'The Look'. "I don't recall anyone consultin' us about that!"

"Me neither," Kozik growled.

Hale's face paled. 'Who the Hell would turn down a money making proposition?' He'd not anticipated any resistance from the two business owners, but they were definitely resistant to the idea. "Well, I thought you'd appreciate the added revenue!"

"We'd also appreciate bein' included in anything that includes our business!" Cat snarled. "Especially since you're talkin' about doin' more than rehabbin' the outside!"

"Yeah," Kozik added. "This is more than just changin' the outer color of the place!"

"This means you're addin' a doorway where a doorway doesn't belong!" Cat added angrily.

"We don't have 24 hour access, and don't intend to add it," Kozik stated emphatically.

"Nobody said you would!" Hale protested. "Look, none of this is set in stone, there's room to negotiate!"

"Damn straight!" Cat retorted. "There's goin' to have to be a lot of negotiatin' here!"

'I should've started with the plans for the outside before opening this can of worms!' Hale observed to himself.

Cat and Kozik pointed out that a new door for the hotel was not plausible and they would not approve it. "The better thing is to have the hotel guests enter through the front like every other customer."

"But that's not going to be convenient to them!" Hale cried. "They have to walk outside to come back inside!"

"So? Some good hotels have their pools outdoors!" Cat stated. "The guests that want to use it don't feel inconvenienced!"

"Yeah!" Kozik growled.

"If you want your guests to use our facility, instead of puttin' one in your swanky no tell hotel, then they walk in our front door," Cat announced.

"What if I decide to put an exercise room in the hotel? It'll cut into your business if I allow the general public to use it."

"But you won't, Hale," Kozik stated darkly.

"And why's that?" Hale challenged.

"Because you know better than to cross us," Kozik retorted.

"Are you threatening me?" Hale squeaked.

"He's just remindin' y'all that it's not a good idea to shit where you eat," Cat interjected. "You need us, Hale, whether you like it or not. Without our cooperation, our facility will stand out like a sore thumb."

Hale sighed irritably. 'She's right, damn her! And I can't continue to disappoint Zobelle!'

"I think we're bein' pretty decent about y'all takin' away valuable parkin' space!" Cat added.

"I'm not taking it away," Hale informed her. "That front portion always belonged to the business next to you. The hotel won't be taking up that much of the parking lot. What if I have a canopied walkway constructed between the two buildings?" He took out a pencil and drew a crude rendering of the idea. "See? The hotel customers could still use the side door, while your customers have a dry area to walk through from the parking lot!"

Cat stared at the drawing, then glanced at Kozik. "What do y'all think, Koz?"

"I kinda like it, Cat. It's a compromise that's workable," he admitted.

"Shows that great minds think alike!" She grinned. "I think we have a deal, Hale!" She spat on her hand and held it out to him. Hale's face paled again, but he parroted her action and clasped her hand, fighting down the urge to squirm.

Kozik grinned and tossed a towel at Hale. "I won't make ya do the same thing," he held out his dry hand. Hale wiped the combined slime off his hand with the towel and limply shook Kozik's hand, sealing the deal between them. He started to hand the towel back to Kozik.

"Nah. Keep it, man."

"Thanks," Hale wadded up the towel and tossed it on a chair.

The remainder of the meeting progressed in a less acrimonious manner. Cat and Kozik were in agreement with the outside changes that would be made, especially since it wouldn't force the gym to close down during the construction.

"That was my main concern, Mr. Hale," Cat stated as the meeting ended. "We lost enough time and money from bein' closed after the vandalism."

An agreed upon date was set for the outside work to be done. It was several months away, as buildings needed to be torn down and/or remodeled for the project before anything could be done to the gym.

"I notice you got Lumpy's medal back," Hale replied while rolling the blueprints back up. "Who drew the picture?"

"One of my staff at the coffeehouse. He does lots of work like that, his contact information is under the picture if you're interested in commissioning him."

"I'll consider that."

---

The date the San Joaquin League of Women Voters scheduled for the debate between Cat and the incumbent Charming council member was rapidly approaching. Not only would it be covered by the local print and electronic media, it was to be broadcast live on the local PBS/NPR stations.

"I know all y'all might not be able to get the television set to view it," Cat informed the club during visiting day. "But I bought all y'all small battery operated radios so you can listen in!"

"Are batteries included?" Juice inquired innocently.

Happy slapped him on the side of the head. "What kinda idiot question is that?"

"Some things aren't sold with batteries!" Juice retorted, rubbing the place where Happy had slapped him.

"In this case, batteries are included, Happy, so y'all owe poor Juice an apology!" Cat replied, glaring over her glasses at the outlaw.

"I think I liked it better when I intimidated ya!" Happy growled.

"Too bad!" Cat continued giving Happy 'The Look' until he muttered an apology to Juice.

"Now, was that so hard?" She asked.

"Yeah!" Happy growled, looking down at the table.

Clay chuckled at the by play going on. They needed some levity after they nearly lost Jax to one of Putlova's men inside prison. The Russian agent had attacked the VP while he stood in line waiting to use a payphone. Three deep slashes to Jax's upper body had resulted in a great blood loss along with a long stay in the infirmary. On top of the attack on Jax, the club had been involved in a fight in the cafeteria and earned a two week stay in solitary. Not only were they very ripe following the punishment, their faces resembled Chewbacca.

Though they wouldn't admit it to the club, Clay and Tig definitely missed seeing their wives during that period. Each man came to the conclusion that the weekly visitation was the highlight of their week.

"I didn't know how low havin' only myself for company could make me!" Tig informed Clay when they were released.

"Yeah. It sucks."

"Hell, I even missed Bobby's snorin'!" Tig admitted.

"You were in a bad place!" Clay laughed. "I checked on Jax, he's recoverin', but it's gonna take time. Should be outta the infirmary by the end of the week."

Jax was indeed released in time for visiting day, but his movements were slow and he was obviously in pain. He was pale from the experience and more tactiturn than usual.

"Now that Putlova's struck out against the club, do y'all think it'll be OK for me to make the supply trips on my own?" Cat inquired.

"Hell, no!" the entire club answered.

"Don't even think it!" Tig growled.

"I did think it," she retorted. "Otherwise I wouldn't have asked!"

"And ya have your answer, woman!"

"This is one time when you're goin' to dance to our tune, Cat!" Clay grinned evilly. "I know your platform is built on not bein' the club's puppet, and I respect that. But you're not makin' that trip without someone goin' along!"

Despite her giving them all 'The Look', none of the club was willing to give in. They returned her icy glare until she finally gave in. "Fine!" She snorted. "Just remember that payback can be a bitch, and so am I!"

"C'mon, woman!" Alex took her hand and led her away from the group. "Ya really aren't gonna pull the rug out from under us, will ya?"

"I mean it, love! I'm not goin' to throw a vote just because all y'all want me to! I don't mind doin' you guys a favor from time to time, but I won't do that!"

"I can live with that, baby!" He sighed in relief. "Are ya ready for this debate thing?"

"I think so. I've been goin' to all the council meetin's anyway which gives me an idea of the issues facin' the town."

"Croucher is one of Hale's lap dogs!" Alex reminded her.

"I'm well aware of that, but thanks for the reminder, love," she replied, wrinkling her nose at him. "I've prepared myself for any spit balls Croucher might throw at me."

"Ya think he'll play dirty?"

"Hale's goin' to want him to stay put. Of course he's goin' to play dirty!" She snickered.

"Then I think you're well prepped for this thing!" Alex grinned.

"I'd feel better about it if y'all could there to lend moral support!"

"Baby, there's nothin' moral about me!" Alex leered, allowing his eyes to undress her.

"Y'all have a one track mind!"

"Yeah, and I'm thinkin' of havin' ya on that track right now!"

She sighed and shook her head. 'God knows I'm tryin' to get a conjugal, but the damn thing takes time to get approved!' She wasn't going to tell him about it, as she didn't want to get his hopes up. "This conversation isn't goin' to do us any good, love!" She added, "Let me tell you what's goin' on with the gym!"

Alex listened while she updated him on the agreement between the gym and Hale to provide access for the hotel guests. "The hotel will pay us a fee each month based on the number of guests that use the facility."

"So they have to check in when they enter, right?"

"I set up a new book for that purpose, which records the name and room number of the hotel guest. That info gets entered into a spreadsheet that gets emailed to Hale and the hotel manager."

"Sounds good. I knew you'd take good care of it for me," Alex crooned approvingly. "I think it's great that you and Kozik got him to back down on the extra door idea!"

"He didn't ask before plannin' it," she replied logically. "Even if he'd asked, we wouldn't have agreed to it. No way to track useage that way."

"Which is probably what he wanted," Alex observed dryly. "I knew you'd do a good job of handlin' this for me, baby!"

"Always, love."

"And you're gettin' along better with Koz now, aren't ya?" He grinned slyly.

"He has his moments," she shrugged.

"How's Dawn doin'?" He inquired worriedly.

"She's fine, love," Cat assured him. She related to the proud father Dawn's idea of asking the die hard book readers for their favorite titles, and the change being made with the book wall. "I put her in charge of it, and she came through with flyin' colors," she added.

'I'm glad Dawn's makin' an effort to get to know Cat. It's progress for her to give Dawnie lead on a project like that!' Alex's heart swelled with fatherly pride. "How did they react to it?"

"They were pleased to be involved," she informed him. "There's an entire shelf of hard copy for them to read through. When they finish those, we'll add some more favorites."

"I'm sorry you're havin' to end the book exchange, baby. You had such high hopes for it," Alex replied sympathetically.

"Thanks, love. But don't be. The business that doesn't adapt to the changin' times is the business that fails."

"Are ya goin' to sell gym merch at the coffeehouse?"

"And vice versa," she grinned. "As long as we're cross - promotin'."

Alex eyes were alight with admiration. "Man, I lucked out findin' you!" He murmured.

Cat's face flushed with pleasure, which turned Alex on immensely. 'I never get tired of seein' her do that! Just like I'm glad she's not chosen to start dressin' like Gem and Tara. I don't think I could take that!' He took her hands in his, happy that the cast was no longer present on her arm. Sensing she needed a change of topic, he asked, "How's Blaine?"

"About the same. He went back into the nursin' home after another stint in the hospital for the same problem," she sighed.

"Ah, damn! When?"

"While all y'all were in solitary," she explained. "He should be gettin' out in another few weeks."

Alex did some mental calculations and frowned. "He didn't stay out as long as the last time."

"No kiddin', sport!"

"Sorry," he winced. 'Shit! That was a dumb thing to say! It just caught me off guard!"

Cat squeezed his hands to show she understood his unspoken thoughts on the matter. "It's OK, love. I feel the same way. Thanks for givin' a damn."

"Of course I do!" He protested. "I like your Dad. He accepted me right off the bat." His eyes clouded over as he muttered under his breath, "Hell, my own old man didn't even do that much!"

Cat heard his comment and squeezed his hands in a comforting manner. "Daddy accepted y'all 'cause I choose you. The rest y'all did yourself."

"I don't get you. Whddya mean I did myself?"

"Showin' Daddy that you cared about his feelin's about things. Respectin' that he didn't like smokin' in the house, pitchin' in with the clean up, all those little things y'all did when we visited him."

"That made a difference?"

"It did to him," Cat assured him. "Just as it means a lot to me that you care about his health."

"Because it matters to you, baby," Alex replied. 'And because it's kinda nice havin' a Dad in my life, instead of some sperm donor!'