Charming Pawse Bk III Chpt XXV Welcome Back to a June Wedding

by wanderingchat

The club returns from Belfast with Abel, but must now focus their time and attention to rescuing Tara from Salazar. Cat gets the Stockton Prisono concession and does battle with the insurance adjuster on Lumpy's Gym, now owned by Tig and Kozik. Stahl comes to a decision about Tyler at the same time that Tyler takes steps to clear her name.

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.

The information Cat gives to Ima about being an old lady is paraphrased from Tina Fairclough's posting on the 'Sons of Anarchy and a Tribute to the Women of SAMCRO' Facebook page. Credit goes where credit is due.

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

Charming Pawse

Book III

Chapter XXIV

Welcome Back to a

June Wedding

"What's goin' on, Tig?" Jax asked wearily. He could sense that the emotional roller coaster he was riding on was about to hurl him down into another valley.

Tig didn't believe in beating around the bush when it came to club business. He informed the VP about Tara's kidnapping and how the Feds fucked up the money drop. "She attacked Salazar's old lady, slashed the gash's throat. She agreed to stay with Salazar to try to save the bitch if he let her supervisor go."

Jax took a deep breath, working to slow his heart rate. He'd felt his heart race when the SAA said the words 'Tara' and 'kidnapped'. "Back up a minute. How the fuck did Margaret Murphy get kidnapped with Tara?"

"Dunno, Jax. First we knew about it was when Salazar called TM and gave his demands to Piney," Tig replied, detailing how they convinced Alvarez to play dead for a day and the women getting the quarter million dollars together.

"And Stahl got involved when the money was short," Jax observed dryly.

"Yeah, she turned up with Unser after the hospital called SANWA about their missin' employees. I wasn't in favor of tellin' her anything. We didn't have all the money together at the time, so Kozik took a leap of faith and told her about the money demand."

"The Feds were at the drop, Salazar got wind of it."

"Yeah. Apparently Hector left his old lady behind to guard the women, and that's when Tara attacked her and gained the supervisor's release. She showed up at CPD a few hours ago. Said Tara went willingly with Salazar."

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck was she thinkin'?" Jax yelled into the phone.

'Man, it doesn't take much to touch off his temper!' Tig winced. 'How the fuck should I know what his woman was thinkin'? I've got enough to do tryin' to keep track of what my woman's thinkin'!'

Jax took another deep breath in response to Tig's silence and added, "Don't bother tryin' to answer that, brother. Look, we're gettin' ready to leave Belfast, did Bobby tell ya about the bombin', McGee and O'Neill?"

"Yeah. That's fucked up, brother."

"We'll be in Charming sometime tomorrow. Clay says we'll meet in chapel first thing, then get Gemma to the cabin to hide out until we finish the deal."

"A'right, brother. Stay safe. Glad ya got Abel back."

"So am I."

Alex closed the pre pay and shoved it in the front pocket of his jeans. He didn't immediately leave the office to join his wife and brothers in the kitchen. Instead, he stared at the dark computer screen in front of him, thinking over the news Bobby had shared about SAMBEL.

'McGee and O'Neill turnin' on the charter, tryin' to kill the mother charter members at least three different times, and causin' the death of patched members, includin' Chibs' nephew! That's fucked up!' Tig's hand caressed the bridge of his nose. "McGee's one of the First Nine for fuck's sake!"

Alex felt a need to be with his brothers, and more importantly, his wife. Except for the current situation with Tara, things in Charming made a lot more sense to him. 'Don't let on to 'em that anything's wrong in Belfast. Time enough for Piney and Kozik to hear the grim details tomorrow.'

He walked out of the office and on into the kitchen. He found that Piney, Kozik, and Phil had been joined by Ima. His gaze locked on Cat and his spirits rose at the sight of some healthy color on her face. Despite the bruising around her nose, the tell - tale dark circles of fatigue that had been present under the tinted insert were gone. 'That sleep must've done her a lot of good after all!'

Cat rose from her seat and turned to the microwave, where she'd placed his dinner plate. "Sit down, love. Your food'll be warm in a few seconds. I'll get y'all a cold one." She only needed one look at the tight set of his jaw to know something was bothering him. She knew the beer would help him relax, as would a hot meal.

"Ya don't have to bother, baby!" He protested. "I can take care of myself!"

"I know y'all can, but I'm closer to the appliances than you are," she retorted, opening the refrigerator and retrieving a beer for him, which she set at his place at the the table. "Now sit down, shut up, and drink your beer!"

Kozik, Piney, and Phil smothered wide grins behind their own beer bottles. Ima gazed at her in surprise that she'd dare to back talk Tig in front of his brothers. She was further shocked when he grinned wickedly and retorted in kind, "How the fuck am I gonna shut up and drink my beer at the same time?"

"You're a smart guy! Figure it out!" Cat smirked, placing the warmed plate of food in front of him.

"Oh yes I will!" He replied, removing the cap and taking a healthy pull from the bottle. He put the bottle down and grabbed her hand as she started back to her own chair across from his.

"Need anything else, love?" She inquired.

"Thanks, baby," he murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. "For everything you've done lately."

"My pleasure, love!"

"Shit! Get a room you two!" Kozik muttered.

"We got one right down the hall!" Alex snickered, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not until you've eaten your dinner, buster!" Cat hissed, sliding out of his embrace. She slid into her own seat and glared at his plate.

Alex winked at her and dug into his food. The easy going banter had lightened his mood considerably. 'Just like it always does!'

"Did ya talk to Jax?" Piney inquired after Alex had eaten a few mouthfuls.

"Yeah. They got Abel back. They'll be back tomorrow afternoon or evenin'."

That announcement was met by a chorus of relieved and happy exclamations. "Thank God!" Cat breathed. "Are Fiona and Kerrianne comin' with 'em?"

"No, they're stayin' in Belfast, baby," Alex replied. Turning to Kozik and Piney he added, "Jax said he'd download us when they get back."

Cat knew then there were things he didn't want to say in front of Ima and Phil. 'Somethin' went down in Ireland.' She hoped Jax hadn't given her man too much difficulty over Tara's absence. 'It's not like Alex could've prevented it. It was Jax's job to make provisions for Tara's safety anyway!"

The group chatted about other things during the impromptu dinner party. After Phil let it slip about the difficulty she had at the bank about the medical fund withdrawal, Cat had to tell Alex and the others the full details.

"I can't believe they put ya through that!" Alex growled. "The loan people were bad enough, what was the bank's problem?"

"Just lookin' out for my assets, love," she assured him. "It was annoyin' at the time, but now that I've had time to think about it, I'm glad the bank acted with caution. Makes me feel better about doin' business with 'em."

"Speakin' of business, have ya heard anything about the Stockton concession?" Piney asked.

"Nothin' yesterday, and to be honest, I haven't checked emails and voice mails today." She admitted.

"It'll wait 'til tomorrow," Alex stated authoritatively.

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut it off with a wave of his hand, adding, "You've waited this long, might as well not worry about it until mornin'."

"Yes, love," she replied sweetly.

Piney barked a derisive laugh. He knew Cat was just pretending to be obedient.

The men and Ima didn't hang around long after dinner ended. "I promised Lyla to stop by to see the kids tonight," Piney explained by way of gruff apology.

"Hey, no need to apologize, Piney," Cat assured him. "Family always comes first in my book. Tell the youngsters I said 'hey'."

"I'll do that."

Phil had returned all the graphic novels he'd read to the library before dinner, making sure he put them in exactly the same spot where he'd taken them. "Thanks for the hospitality, Miss Cat," he stated as he followed Piney to the van.

"Anytime, darlin'. Thanks for your help today."

"All I did was drive," he shrugged.

"That made a difference, Filthy," Alex assured him.

"We'll go ahead and head home, too," Ima stated, giving Kozik a nudge in the side when he didn't move from his seat.

He jumped slightly from the poke in his ribs. "Oh, yeah! Yeah! Gonna be a long day tomorrow from the sounds of things! Guess we'll call it a night!"

"Wait!" Alex rose from his chair and strode to the closet where he'd hung his cut. He removed several envelopes from the inner pocket, glancing out the window and wincing at the sight of the van pulling away from the house. 'Shit! I'll have to give this to Piney tomorrow!' He tucked the thinnest envelope back in the cut pocket, closed the closet, and returned to the kitchen.

"Really appreciate your help, Ima. Here's your money back. The drop went sour."

Ima accepted the envelope with a questioning look from Alex to Kozik. "I don't understand what you mean."

Cat gave her husband 'The Look' through her tinted insert. "What the Hell do y'all mean, the drop went sour? Are Tara and Margaret dead?"

"Shit!" Alex scrubbed his face with his hand. "I didn't mean that to come out the way it did. They're a'right. At least, Margaret is."

"What in Tarnation happened, love?" Cat glared at the two thicker envelopes Alex held.

"We might as well fill in 'em now, Tigger," Kozik shrugged. "The cat's already outta the bag, no offense."

"None taken. I know Stahl made the full amount available, so what happened at the drop?" Cat inquired.

"The Feds happened," Alex growled darkly.

"Stahl made the full amount available?" Ima cried. "When did that happen?"

Alex glanced over at Kozik. "It's your turn to tell the tale, Koz. I already told Jax and Bobby."

"Shit!" It was also Kozik's turn to scrub his face with his hand. "OK, here goes!" He turned to Ima and explained about Stahl and Unser showing up at the clubhouse after she'd delivered her money. "At the time, we didn't know if Cat would get the loan, so I asked Stahl to help. She got the full quarter mil, then insisted that her and her team be present."

"I knew that bitch was goin' to throw a monkey wrench in the works!" Cat snarled.

"Take it easy, baby!" Alex admonished. "Let Koz tell the story."

Cat snorted in derision, but refrained from further comment. The only sign of her inner agitation was the up and down movement of her right leg.

Alex reached his foot out under the table to tap against her leg. He shook his head slightly, indicating for her to be still. He was rewarded with the bird in the guise of her shoving her glasses back into place on her nose.

"We didn't know she was gonna bring a bunch of agents and a surveillance van 'til after Cat came through with the rest of the dough. By the time Stahl returned, Cat had already delivered, so we used the Feds money for the drop. We didn't bargain on some snoopy kids makin' off with the knapsack the drop money was in. Tig chased the kids down and prolly would've caught 'em if one of the female agents hadn't run after him, bellowin' she was a Fed at the top of her lungs. Salazar heard her and bolted." Kozik paused in his narrative to take a breath.

"I suppose Stahl blamed Tig for the drop goin' sour, instead of her agents," Cat observed dryly.

"Natch. I wanted to pound her face into the pavement. Piney and Koz kept me from gettin' nailed for assault on a Fed," Alex replied. "So did some sage advice someone once gave me."

"I'm glad it helped," Cat replied. "So what happened from there? What's the deal with Tara and Margaret?"

"I'm gettin' to that!" Kozik exclaimed. "Margaret turned up at CPD this afternoon, said Tara got the jump on Salazar's old lady, cut her up pretty bad."

'Oh, no she didn't!' Cat moaned inwardly.

"Tara agreed to help Salazar try to keep his old lady from bleedin' out in exchange for her supervisor's release," Kozik supplied.

"Why would she do something like that?" Ima inquired.

"She's a doctor, Ima. She might've cut Salazar's old lady, but the healer in her couldn't let her turn away from someone who was hurt," Cat replied.

"Even someone who had hurt her?" Ima asked disbelievingly.

"Not exactly somethin' I'd do in that situation," Cat shrugged. "But I'm not a doctor."

"Oh," Ima replied in a small voice. "I guess I understand."

"Then you're the only one of us that does!" Kozik retorted. "She should've run when she had the chance!"

"I don't think she had much of a chance, 'Herman'," Cat interjected. "Lookin' at it from a woman's point of view, it's likely Salazar had a gun on both of 'em. Tara's not that experienced with guns - "

"Hah!" Ima snorted. "She and Gemma took pot shots at my car a few weeks ago!"

Cat lifted an eyebrow at Ima before continuing, "Like I said, Tara's not as experienced with guns as some of us women. If they'd both tried to leave, I imagine chances were good that he'd have plugged one of 'em," Cat explained.

Kozik mulled that over for a few moments. "Yeah. I get what you're sayin'. It makes sense."

"Feds and the county put out an APB on the car, but Salazar's gonna ditch it for somethin' else," Alex added.

"Let's hope and pray they can get the guy's girlfriend to a hospital before she dies," Ima mused.

"From your mouth to God's ears," Cat agreed.

---

Tyler waited with the other members of the team for the debriefing. None of them were happy about the outcome of the drop, despite the fact that the $250 thousand was recovered. Nor did they agree that the SAMCRO SAA had botched the drop. If anything, he'd kept them from the ire of their supervisor.

Stahl had been stonily silent though out the drive back to headquarters. It was obvious to the team that she didn't share their feelings and the debriefing would be brutal. The second the door closed behind her, Stahl paced the circumference of the room, glaring intently at each agent.

"The whole bunch of you behaved like probationers out of training!" Stahl spat. "Forget that I told Trager it was his fault that the operation failed. Each one of you caused it!" She fixed her rabid stare on each agent, uttering a scathing diatribe on his or her error that resulted in the failed drop. Stahl was exceptionally harsh when she came to Tyler.

"What the Hell were you thinking by yelling that you were a Federal agent when that kid took off with the money?" Stahl hissed.

"Um. W - well, it was instinct," Tyler stammered, rearing back in her chair from the intensity of Stahl's attack.

"Instinct?"

"W - well, yeah. I - I heard Trager holler after he made the drop, looked in the direction he was running, a - and saw the kids making off with the money. It just popped out!"

Stahl shook her head in disbelief. "We weren't even supposed to be there!" Stahl snarled. "We were there to make the arrest after Salazar had the money, not a couple of nosy kids!"

Tyler's brows furrowed in anger over her lover's attack. "We got the money back!"

"At what cost? Salazar may have already killed his captives thanks to that little foul up!" Stahl retorted. She knew if Tara died, she could kiss the deal she'd made with Jax goodbye, and that would kill her career aspirations. The thought made her even more angry, and she took her frustration out on Tyler. "No amount of money will make up for that!" She leaned closer to Tyler and added, "And could you have been any more generic with that vehicle description? Red late-model sedan? Really?"

Tyler's eyes fell to the floor. She'd been too far away to give a more detailed description. All she could see was a red car. "I got a description out as quickly as possible," she murmured. "Should I have been more specific in hindsight? Of course. At the time, it seemed more important to get some information out to the waiting patrol cars outside the park!"

"It wasn't good enough; Salazar managed to get away!" Stahl snickered as she returned to the front of the room. "I want your reports on my desk before end of shift!" She added dismissively.

The team quietly filed out of the debriefing room. They were upset and angry over her remarks, but knew better than to react to them or to complain to the supervisors. All they could do was to write-up their reports as factually as possible and hope the higher-ups would have the ability to read between the lines.

Tyler was the last to leave. She didn't make eye contact with her lover. She was just as upset and angry as the rest of the team, even more so as she felt she'd been unfairly singled out.

"Tyler, wait a minute," Stahl called.

Tyler stopped, but didn't turn around to face Stahl. She laid a clenched fist on the door frame. "What do you want?" She stated flatly.

Stahl walked over to stand behind Tyler, placing a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "I hope you understand why I had to come down so hard on you," She explained softly.

"You had to be harder on me than the othes because we're together," Tyler sighed.

"You say the words, but I don't think you truly accept it."

"I understand it's necessary, but it doesn't mean I have to like it," Tyler retorted, still keeping her back to her lover.

"You know how it is," Stahl wheedled. "I have to be harder on you! Do you think I liked that?"

Tyler gazed over her shoulder at her lover. "Yes, I think you did," she replied softly. "Excuse me, I have a report to write."

Tyler turned away and walked down the hall to the bullpen. She didn't care how Stahl would react to her comment. She was past caring.

---

Every muscle in Tara's body tensed in anticipation of her brains being blown all over the hood of the Camaro. She thought quickly of something to say to save herself. It seemed like nothing could cut through the panic, then an idea came to her. "Killing me now won't get any money for you!" She cried.

Salazar pressed the gun barrel harder against the side of her head. "What the fuck are you talkin' about puta?"

"You made a demand of the club for the death of Alvarez and a quarter of a million dollars. SAMCRO delivered on Alvarez, but you still don't have the money! You need that money to set up life somewhere, don't you?"

Tara felt the pressure of the gun's muzzle ease slightly from her skull. 'I'm getting through to him! Just got to keep him thinking about the bottom line!' She forced herself to stay still so she wouldn't infuriate the outlaw.

"You have a point, I didn't get the money comin' to me. But the club isn't gonna give it to me this time." Salazar lowered the gun to his side. "Stand up!"

Tara slowly lifted herself from the hood of the car.

"Turn around."

Tara held her hands up and slowly turned to face him.

"You know I could still kill you because you killed my Chula," Salazar stated flatly.

Tara nodded, unable to utter a vocal response. 'Did I misread the situation?'

"For now, I need to find another ride. Your friend's prolly reached the cops and given a description of this car. Get in." He waved the gun, pointing at the passenger seat.

"What about your girlfriend? Shouldn't we take her body to a funeral home?"

"Just get in the car, puta!" Salazar yelled, pointing the gun at her head.

"OK! OK!" Tara kept her hands up and moved slowly to the passenger side of the car. She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat under Salazar's baleful gaze.

Salazar slipped the gun into the waistband of his pants. Instead of putting it at his back, he put it on his side so that he could reach it if he needed to. "You try anything and you're dead!" He warned, staring at Luisa's lifeless body. He sighed softly then slipped behind the steering wheel and started the engine.

---

Ima insisted on helping Cat clean up after the dinner party. "It's the least I can do for you!" She insisted over Cat's protests.

"Let her help, baby," Alex added. "I don't want ya undoin' all the good that sleep did ya!"

"You just don't want me too tired later on!" She smirked.

"That too," he agreed slyly. "C'mon out to the back yard, Koz. We can smoke and talk."

Kozik shrugged and followed Alex out the back door. A smoke sounded good, and they did need to talk without the women present. 'I just wish he'd be more willin' to suggest instead of orderin' me around!'

They settled comfortably into the metal lawn chairs, drew out their cigarettes, and lit up. The cats were in the mesh tunnel, enjoying some grass and the fresh air before they entered the house. Misty took one look at Kozik and ran on into the garage and the safety of the house.

"Skittish, ain't she?" Kozik observed.

"Always. It took her awhile to get used to me," Alex replied.

"Wow! What'd it feel like to have a female not automatically take to ya?" Kozik grinned.

Alex blew a plume of smoke through his nose. "Cat was the same way. I managed to win 'em both over!"

"So what else is new?" Kozik mused, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Lots of shit went down in Belfast," Tig announced. "McGee and O'Neill are dead, they turned on the charter. Pedraic and a few other members of SAMBEL were killed in a bomb blast during a gun run for Jimmy O. The blast was intended to take our club out."

"But we're whole?"

"Yeah, we're whole."

"Why the fuck did McGee turn on the club? He founded SAMCRO!" Kozik inquired.

"We'll prolly find out tomorrow."

The two bikers smoked in silence for a while, then Kozik cleared his throat and announced. "I think you and I made some headway while the club was gone."

"Nothin' like havin' to work together on a crisis," Tig agreed.

"I've missed ya, brother." Kozik admitted.

"Sometimes I've missed ya," Tig reluctantly agreed. "You did great handlin' Alvarez. I dunno that I could've said it as well."

"Are ya kiddin'?" Kozik hooted. "I've not seen ya so head over heels for a female since the one that died!"

Tig grinned sheepishly. "C'mon! I'm not that bad!"

Kozik grinned. "Tell it to someone else, brother, cause I ain't buyin'! It's pretty obvious to me!"

What can I say? Cat's different."

"I noticed. Seems to me you could've persauded Alvarez to help us just as well as I did."

"Nah. It's not easy for me to talk about that shit," Tig countered.

"Ya don't hear your woman complainin', do ya?"

"No, but ya still did good with Alvarez, that's what I'm sayin'. Learn how to take a compliment, why don't ya?"

Kozik smothered a grin by putting his hand with the cigarette in it over his mouth and drawing some smoke into his lungs. He felt better about his relationship with Tig. Dealing with Tara's kidnapping and the loss of Lumpy had helped restore their bond, but he sensed it was still very fragile and could be derailed over the slightest bump.

"Just sit there and relax," Ima instructed. "If I start to put something in the wrong place just say so."

Cat snorted a laugh, but remained seated in her chair. "No worries, darlin'. All you have to do is wash the dishes before puttin' 'em in the dishwasher and put any leftovers back in the fridge."

"Goodness! I thought I was the only woman who does that! Course, up until recently, it took nearly a month for me to get a washer load!"

Cat nodded in agreement. "I know what y'all mean, and it drives Tig bat shit that I wash the dishes before the dishwasher does 'em. To him, it's a duplication of effort."

"Did you tell him it's so the dishwasher lasts longer?"

"Yep, all he did was roll his eyes and mutter somethin' about women and our crazy ideas. Thing is, I remember when those things weren't real good at breakin' down food and it would gunk up the appliance."

"My mother told me the same thing!" Ima grinned. She closed the dishwasher and turned it on, then sat at the table next to Cat. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

"Y'all are always welcome to ask," she smiled.

"Did you only ask me to help yesterday because I was the only one available?"

Cat's eyebrow disappeared into her bangs. "Where in the Hell did y'all get an idea like that?"

Ima shrugged. "It just occurred to me that you might've asked me just to make Tig happy."

"If that was the case, I could've asked Lyla; she's been an 'old lady' longer than y'all!" Cat retorted gruffly. "True, I asked for help to keep Tig happy, but I asked y'all because I wanted to."

"Why? You don't know anything about me, except that I'm a customer," Ima persisted.

"Sure, I've seen you at the coffeehouse. I know a few things beside the drink you order."

'Here it comes!' Ima inwardly steeled herself for some hurtful truths.

"I know you're takin' some pretty tough on-line classes, and that 'Herman' is smitten with you. I also know you have a soft spot for animals because of the way you relate to the cats. So what if you happen to earn your livin' as an erotic entertainer and that y'all got busted for prostitution a few weeks ago?" Cat shrugged her shoulders. "I'll tell you somethin', young lady, just because y'all had a thing for Jax Teller and gave Tara a bit of a hard time is no reason for me to look down my nose at y'all."

"It isn't? Some of the Croweaters seem to believe otherwise!" Ima mused wryly.

"Consider the source, darlin'. Women can be bitchy. It's in our DNA I think. Y'all have always treated me decent, so why should I treat you like somethin' found on your shoe after traipsin' through a cow pasture?"

Ima stared at her in disbelief. "Considering that Lyla gave me a hard time about the night I spent with Jax, I assumed all the club's women would rally around Tara."

"Well you know what they say about the word 'assume'. Frankly, Ima, the VP was an asshat for usin' you the way he did. Nobody deserves treatment like that."

"How do you get on with the other 'old ladies'?"

"We're cordial to each other, but we're certainly not BFF's. Nor do I expect it to be that way."

Ima silently digested that information. "I don't think Tara and I can be cordial. I'm sure Koz won't tolerate any tension between us."

"None of the club will tolerate it, darlin'. Somehow, y'all are gonna have to be civil with each other. It'll take some doin', and it might mean y'all will have to be the better woman."

"You speak like you know firsthand."

"Not exactly, just things I've figured out from watchin'. There's a hierarchy of sorts for the women. Gemma is the undisputed Queen. After her, it's Tara on account of Jax bein' the VP."

"Are you third in line, then?"

Cat shrugged. "Not really. The rest of us 'Old Ladies' are pretty much on equal footin', no matter what office our man holds. There's a few things y'all need to keep in mind about bein' in Kozik's life full-time. There's no manual for this kind of stuff. Mind if I give y'all a few pointers?"

"Mind? I'd appreciate it!"

Kozik glanced into the kitchen through the back door window, watching his girl and Tig's wife talking together. "What do ya suppose they're yakkin' about?"

"Us, natch," Tig laughed. "Or more accurately, the club and their role in it."

"Seriously?"

Tig drew a long draught on the cigarette, then blew another long plume of smoke through his nose. "Yeah. Your girl needs to learn from someone. It's a fuckin' sure thing that Tara won't tell her!"

"I guess that's right," Kozik mused.

They remained silent, reflecting on what they'd learned about women and the club from the moment they'd patched in.

'Cat's definitely made me a better member of the club. Dunno that I would've found my way through the Donna mistake without her,' Tig mused. 'And if I couldn't have found my way through it, I wouldn't still have my SAA patch!'

Kozik felt pride in the way Ima had stepped up during the past two days. 'She volunteered to make some of her own money available to ransom Tara when she had every reason not to help! That's damn good enough for me!'

"So this porn star of yours seems a'right," Tig stated. "Considerin' she was so love-sick over the VP a few days ago."

"Yeah, but he hurt her pretty bad, Tig. He didn't hit her physically, but he beat her up emotionally, and that's somethin' I don't like!" Kozik growled.

"You're gonna have to get over that quick, man. No one is gonna support ya for havin' a grudge over a woman's hurt feelin's. Ima might be your old lady now, but she's also sloppy seconds."

"But look what she did for the club already!" Kozik protested.

"It's not gonna be enough, Koz. You know that," Tig replied in a nearly gentle manner.

Koz inhaled on his cigarette, burning it down to the filter. He breathed out the smoke and angrily ground out the remnant in the ashtray. He knew Tig was right. In hooking up with him, Ima was going to be in Tara's proximity more often. Tara was second only to Gemma where the club's women were concerned. 'She's gonna have one Hell of a rough time of it!'

"I know what you're thinkin', man," Tig observed. "If ya think Ima's not up to the challenge, best to end it with her now, before ya both get yourselves hurt."

"I've got every confidence in my girl, Tig. I just wonder if Tara's gonna give her an even chance."

"Dunno, Koz. Guess time will tell." He stood up, stretched, and walked towards the garage.

"Where ya goin'?"

"Check on Cat's bike. It's been on the tender since the wreck. I just wanna make sure it's still gettin' power," Tig explained. "Plus, we can listen in on the women; find out what they're talkin' about!"

"Do we wanna do that?"

"Why the Hell not? A little advance intel goes a long way to keepin' the home fires burnin' the right way!"

Kozik followed along, but he longed to ask Tig if he'd had a change of heart about voting him into SAMCRO. 'Nah, I'd better just wait to see what happens at the next vote. Don't wanna rock the boat now, not when things are feelin' more tight between us!'

Cat described the basic tenets of 'old ladyship' to Ima. "It's not just you and Kozik in the relationship. You're part of a large extended family, kinda like the TV Waltons, but a lot bigger."

"Should I take notes?" Ima inquired.

"No, this stuff's pretty easy to remember. Kozik should fill y'all in on most of it." She glanced outside to find the chairs were empty. She mentally shrugged at their absence, figuring that the men might be examining the PT.

"The most important thing to remember is that we can make our men better brothers, or we can bring them down. There are going to be times when the club comes first. You can either cry and carry on like a spoiled brat about it, or go with the flow. A good woman is goin' to go with the flow every time."

"Plans can change at a moment's notice," Ima noted.

"Exactly. Your door is never closed. Any brother or any old lady is welcome inside at any time - day or night - no matter what the reason. You are always a good hostess whether the club's at your home, someone else's house, or the clubhouse. Always make sure there's plenty of food, drink, and companionship. Don't talk about club business with them, and for Gawd's sake, don't ask questions about club business in front of their brothers."

"But I thought Tig and you have full disclosure!" Ima protested. "Doesn't he tell you everything?"

Cat smiled grimly. "Full disclosure doesn't mean y'all walk up to the guy and demand intel. You wait until he's ready to tell you, and then he'll tell you what he wants to tell you. You accept it for what it is. Listen and be supportive. If he asks your input, you give it. If he doesn't ask, don't volunteer."

"Curiosity killed the cat, as they say," Ima observed.

"Somethin' like that," Cat grinned ruefully. "Take tonight as an example. If Tig hadn't said anything about the drop goin' sour in front of us, it wouldn't have come up until all y'all were gone."

"I was going to ask about that."

"Keep this in mind, too. Whatever you know about club business, keep it to yourself. Y'all don't tell anyone anything."

"Not even another old lady?"

"I'll get to that in a minute," Cat replied evasively. 'There's no way in Hell I can bring her into the support group, Tara would have a fit!' She cleared her throat and added, "There's the topic of law enforcement to touch on. The only cop y'all can really trust is Unser, but even if he asks you, y'all pull a 'Sergeant Schultz' and known nothin'."

"Who's 'Sergeant Schultz'?"

Cat rolled her eyes and shook her head. "It's a character from an old 60's television show," she sighed.

"Oh, I remember now! 'Hogan's Heroes'!" Ima grinned. "I watched that after school sometimes!"

'Gawd! I feel old!' Cat rubbed her forehead with her good hand.

"Am I wearing you out, Cat?" Ima asked in concern.

"No, darlin'. You just reminded me of my age," she reassured the girl.

Tig and Kozik unashamedly listened at the garage door. Tig was pleased and proud at the education his woman was giving Kozik's girl. 'I dunno where she picked all that up, but she's right on the money. As usual.'

"Did ya tell your woman all that shit, Tig?" Kozik asked.

"No. Like she said, she learned by observation. She's good at that," he replied proudly. "She's gettin' worn out, tough, I can tell. You can pick up where she left off. C'mon," Tig opened the garage door and walked into the kitchen, Kozik right on his heels. "You gals about done with your hen party?"

"Hey! All y'all abandoned us to go smoke!" Cat protested.

"Well, we finished smokin'," Alex replied suavely.

"We're almost done, love," Cat made a decision about how to include Ima in the support group and turned back to the girl. "Keep my number programmed in your phone, Ima. If somethin' comes up where y'all need to talk, feel free to give me a call."

"Why would she wanna do that, baby?" Alex inquired.

"Call it the unofficial 'Old Ladies Support Group'. Tara and Lyla and I have been helpin' each other for a few weeks now. It helps to have someone who's in the life to talk to about the life."

"That's what ya have me for!"

"Sometimes, love, a woman needs another woman's perspective on things. Especially when all y'all are off on club business!"

"Oh," he muttered.

"Th - thank you, Cat. I don't know wh - what to say!" Ima stammered. She was overwhelmed by the other woman's generosity. She was so used to the backstabbing bitchiness in the porn world, that being treated like a person nearly made her cry.

"Just say good night and you two enjoy the rest of your night," she replied.

"Thanks for havin' us over, Cat. And for invitin' Ima. I wouldn't have thought of it if ya hadn't of told me to."

Cat sighed wearily. "I give up! No good deed can ever go under the radar around here!"

"I keep tellin' ya to get used to it, baby!" Alex grinned.

"Yeah, Daddy always said my little sins would find me out!" She muttered.

"I don't call what you've done a little sin," Ima spoke up in a supportive manner.

"Neither would I!" Kozik stated.

"That makes it unanimous then," Alex replied, shepherding the couple to the door. "See ya tomorrow, Koz."

"Night, Cat!" Ima called from the door.

---

"Why don't you and Miles work on that playground area we talked about settin' up for the kids?" Piney suggested to Phil when they returned to the compound.

"It'll take all night!" Phil protested. "We haven't even gotten it started!"

"Then you two better get at it," Piney replied. "Doubt Jax and Tara, much less Gemma, will let Abel outta their sight once they get back. The play area will be useful for our club's kids as well as customers."

"OK," Phil sighed wearily, climbing from the van. He shuffled into the clubhouse to retrieve Miles. As Piney pulled out of the compound, he watched in the rear view mirror for the two prospects. He grinned when he saw them hustle out to the area where the playground was intended.

"That'll keep 'em out of mischief!" He grinned.

Piney took the van out to Opie and Lyla's. He stopped off for a gallon of ice cream on the way, along with all the fixings for banana splits. "It'll be a little too late to take the kids out for a treat, so I'll just bring the treat to them!"

Part of his shopping trip was to salve his guilty conscience for not asking Cat to invite Lyla and the kids to dinner. He knew they'd given her little notice as it was. Adding Lyla and three rambunctious kids to the mix would've been too much of a burden on her.

"She was decent enough to host us the night Gemma went on the lam, but that was a whole different matter. 'Old ladies' might be expected to be gracious hostesses, but sometimes a club's gotta think about the old lady's best interests!" He grumbled aloud. "Maybe if I'd been more aware of that, Mary would still be with me!"

He cringed as he recalled all the emotional abuses he'd piled on his wife during his younger days. He'd expected her not just to be his wife, and later a mother to Ope, but also accept the club as part of her family. That was hard for someone like Mary, who had grown up in the foster care system.

'God knows she tried, but I was never satisfied. She felt like she couldn't live up to my expectations, and I turned to other women when she didn't. That and my drinking drove her away."

He had hopes that they might still renew their relationship. She'd been surprised and pleased when he'd shown up at her door to say goodbye and apologize to her when he intended to kill Clay. She'd also been willing to come to the compound when they went after Zobelle even though she lived over an hour away and wouldn't have been in the separationist's cross hairs.

'And they say ya can't teach an old dog new tricks!' he huffed to himself, parking the van on the street outside Ope and Lyla's house. He climbed out of the van, hefted the bag of groceries in his arms, and approached the front door.

Lyla peeked out the window when the doorbell rang as Opie had taught her. "Kids! Grandpa's here again!" She called out as she opened the door. "Hi, Pops!"

"Hi yourself!" Piney bent forward to kiss her cheek. "Is it too late for the kids to have dessert? I brought all the fixin's for banana splits!"

"Yay!" cried all three children, wrapping their arms around his waist and legs.

Lyla smiled and waved him towards the kitchen. "No, you timed it just right!"

Piney led a mini parade into the kitchen and placed the bag in the middle of the table. "Ellie, go get some bowls while Kenny gets the spoons," he instructed.

"What do I get to do?" Piper asked.

Piney bent down so that his face was on a level with Piper. "You get the most important job! You get to help me unpack this bag!" He lifted the small child onto a chair and pushed the bag in front of him.

Piper carefully unloaded all the groceries, placing them reverently on the table. There were fresh bananas; vanilla ice cream, three flavors of toppings, whipped cream, and a bag of cherries.

"I don't like those fake cherries," Piney explained. "Too syrupy for me."

Lyla laughed and handed the ice cream scoop to him. "I agree. There's something about real cherries that balances out the sweetness in the rest of the ingredients."

Piney folded up the empty bag Piper handed him and stuffed it under the sink with the other recyclable bags. Piper had seated himself in the chair, surrounded by Ellie and Kenny.

Lyla dipped the ice cream into bowls, setting them at each place. The kids peeled their own bananas, only Piper needed help cutting his into half. Piney assisted him, then the family happily fixed their own desserts the way they wanted them.

"This is great, Grandpa!" Kenny exclaimed around a mouthful of his dessert.

"It sure is, thank you, Grandpa!" Ellie added.

Piper, though his face and hands were sticky from his dessert, crawled into Piney's lap and loudly kissed him on the cheek. "Tank you, Papaw Piney!"

Piney felt his eyes water. He hugged Piper tight and looked straight into the little boy's eyes. "You're quite welcome, little man."

Lyla's own eyes brimmed with unshed tears. The transfer from their small apartment to Opie's house, along with the sudden addition of Kenny and Ellie in his life had overwhelmed her son at times. He was in awe of Opie, and downright shy around Piney. To see her son give such love to the grizzled founding SAMCRO member touched her heart.

Piney listened closely as his grandchildren told him of their day at school, smiling at their triumphs and offering advice for some of Kenny's boyish trials.

"I know the girls can be a pain at times, but trust me, there'll come a time when you'll find out they're worth the bother!" Piney assured his grandson, winking over Kenny's head at Lyla.

Piney basked in the warmth and love of his son's family. It was something he'd denied himself far too often. 'Maybe I need to visit more often than I have,' he thought to himself as he watched the kids finish their treats and troop off to the living room for another hour of television.

"Do you want something to drink, Pops?" Lyla asked as she took the dishes to the sink.

"Any coffee available?"

"Sure!" She filled a mug for him and brought it over, then returned to washing the dishes.

"I'll just sit with the kids for a bit, but need to talk to you after they go to bed," he stated, picking up his coffee cup and ambling into the living room. "Don't worry, Ope's OK," he added over his shoulder.

Lyla's spine had noticeably stiffened when Piney said he wanted to talk to her. She relaxed after he assured her Opie was OK. 'I wonder if Gemma goes through this every time Clay's on a run! And I wonder how she deals with it!'

She rinsed off the dishes, set them in the dishwasher, and walked into the living room, leaning against the door frame for a few moments to watch her family. Piney was on the couch, surrounded by the kids. Piper sat at his feet, while Kenny and Ellie were on either side of him.

She smiled at the warm scene before her. When she'd first met Piney, he'd seemed gruff and unapproachable. As time passed, he opened up more to her until he accepted her as one of his own. 'I know having me enter Opie's life so soon after Donna dying was a major adjustment, but he's never made comparisons. At least not vocally!'

"Are ya gonna hold up the house, or come join us?" Piney remarked.

"I'll join you, but I couldn't resist the view." She grinned. "You're quite the picture of domesticity!"

"Bein' a grandpa has it's rewards," Piney replied affectionately.

Though she'd feared the sugar from the banana splits would have the kids bouncing off the walls, Lyla noticed that PIper's eyes were drooping, and the other two were just as sleepy.

"Looks like its' bedtime for you three," she remarked. "School tomorrow!"

None of them complained or wheedled for a few more minutes. They hugged Piney and kissed him goodnight, then trooped off to their bedrooms.

"I'll be in to say goodnight in a minute," he promised them.

"Me too!" Lyla called after them.

Piney got up and carried his coffee cup to the sink, while Lyla followed the kids to their rooms. Piper was nearly asleep on his feet, so she helped him change for bed.

A few minutes later, Piney helped her tuck all three into bed, and received murmured good night wishes from the trio. They turned out the lights and closed the two bedroom doors, retreating to the kitchen to talk.

Lyla poured coffee for each of them before sitting across from Piney. "What's on your mind, Pops?"

"The club's comin' home," he announced.

"They found Abel?"

He nodded, taking a sip of coffee. "Should be in sometime tomorrow afternoon, in case you want to bring the kids to greet Ope."

"Did you talk to him?"

Piney shook his head. "Tig spoke with Bobby and Jax earlier. We were at Tig and Cat's house. I would've called ya over -"

Lyla held up her hand. "Considering that Cat's just out of the hospital again, me and the kids would've been too much for her."

Piney grinned at her for understanding. She was becoming a strong 'old lady', and that was something that Opie needed. "Just so ya know, Ima was there with Kozik at Cat's invite. I don't think it occurred to her to have you over with Opie in Belfast."

Lyla shrugged. "Sounds like Ima's making it work with Kozik. Wonder what will happen if he doesn't patch in?"

Piney shrugged. "Guess we'll see, darlin'. I also need to tell ya you'll be gettin' your money back tomorrow."

"So Tara's OK?" Lyla asked with a frown. She hadn't heard anything from the VP's old lady. 'Seems like she would've called if she were free!'

"We don't know," Piney admitted. He briefed her on the sabotaged drop and the solo appearance of Margaret Murphy at CPD. "She said Tara agreed to stay with Salazar to try to save his girl if Margaret went free."

"That sounds like something Tara would do!" Lyla sighed.

"That's what Cat said!" Piney observed.

"It makes sense. Tara's a doctor, it's ingrained in her to heal wounds, even if its' someone who hurt her," Lyla explained.

"Anyway, I wanted you to know the latest. Tig has a lot on his mind, and I didn't press him to give me your money back tonight."

"That's OK, Pops. I'm sure it's not going anywhere."

They sat in companionable silence, sipping their coffee and worrying about Tara. "Frankly, I'm relieved that they found Abel," Lyla stated after a while. "I can only imagine what Jax was going through."

"It's any parents' worse nightmare," Piney agreed. "I'm going to head on home, darlin'."

Lyla stood up and embraced the man, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't stay away so long after Opie returns. The kids miss you."

"I won't," he promised. "Lock up after me and sleep well."

"Be safe going home, Pops," she replied, opening the door for him. She watched him walk to the trike and mount it, then closed the door and locked it.

---

Cat waved at the pair from the kitchen doorway, watching while Alex walked them to the front door and closed it behind them. She held the two thick envelopes Alex had handed her earlier.

Alex turned off the porch light and turned to look at her. "You a'right, baby?"

"Yeah," she sighed, limping to the couch where Ming and Ebony were curled up. She sat between the two cats and stroked the sleeping Siamese.

"Then why the frown?" He sat down on the floor so he could watch her face.

She hefted the envelopes in one hand. "I'm annoyed at Stahl buttin' in. Makes me feel like all my effort was a waste of time."

"Well, wipe that frown off your face. It wasn't wasted!"

"Hmpf!"

"Honestly, baby! It's not like it was any of Stahl's business that you were out tryin' to raise all that money!"

Cat thoughtfully stroked the Siamese's beige fur. Ming raised his head and opened his sapphire eyes a bit, licked her hand, then laid his head between his paws and closed his eyes again.

Ebony didn't want to be left out, so he crawled into his person's lap and nudged her other hand with his head. "OK, big boy! Y'all get some love, too! There's plenty to go around!"

"There better be!" Alex growled warningly.

"Surely y'all aren't jealous of the kittens!"

"Sometimes, and don't call me Shirley!" He growled.

"Your turn comes later," she assured him.

"Damn right it does!" He pointed to the envelopes and added, "What do ya intend to do with that loan?"

"C'mon into the office and I'll show y'all," she replied, pushing Ebony off her lap with some effort and rising from the sofa.

"Kinda strange place to do it, but OK," he grinned.

"One track mind!" Cat grumbled, leading the way to the office. She sat down in the chair and handed him the cardboard envelope from the loan company.

"What's this?"

"Open it and see, love," she replied. She turned on the power to the computer, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he pulled out the paperwork. Once the computer powered up, she accessed her own user area and loaded the internet explorer.

"What the Hell are ya doin'?"

"Figured I'd check my email while y'all read that paperwork, love," she explained, suiting her actions to her words. She quickly deleted emails that she considered trash and sent the offers to increase the size of her plumbing and for on line courses to the spam folders. That still left a good number of emails for her to sort through.

One particular email caught her immediate attention. She opened it, literally holding her breath as she waited for it to load.

"You've got to be kiddin' me!" Alex roared, looking over the sheath of loan papers at her. "This is bullshit!"

"You must be talkin' about the percentage rate," she observed dryly.

"No shit, woman! I've seen better offers from buy here/pay here lots, and ya only have to use the fuckin' car you're buyin' for collateral! They took everything you've got!"

"Tell me about it, spud," she replied grimly, turning away from the email. "It had to be done. But look at the one concession I got from 'em!" She gingerly stood up and took the sheath of papers from him, turning them over until she came to the provision she'd fought for. "See? There's no penalty if I pay the loan off early."

"Then you're payin' the damn thing back tomorrow!" He instructed. His voice sounded like he'd just been punched in the gut with a wrecking ball.

"Maybe y'all should sit down before you fall down," she offered, leading him to the office chair. "I have got to order another chair for this room, that's all there is to it!"

Alex fell into the chair, propped his elbows on the desk and held his head in his hands. "Fuck that, woman! That can wait. What the fuck do ya mean, you're not payin' this damn thing off tomorrow?"

She lifted his hands away from his head so she could slide onto his lap. She laid a hand against his cheek and explained, "I fully intend to pay the damn thing off early, but tomorrow's too soon, love."

"Why?"

"Think about it," She insisted.

"Just tell me, baby. I'm too overwhelmed at the moment to think coherently."

Cat took pity on him and replied, "If I pay it off in a day, that's gonna raise questions we don't need. Additionally, it won't do me a damn bit of good to establish a history should the need for funds of this nature come up again."

Alex's eyes clouded over. "Do ya really think it will?"

Cat nestled her head on his shoulder. "I was a Girl Scout for one year, love. It taught me to be prepared."

He kissed her forehead and locked his arms around her. "You haven't answered my question. What are ya gonna do with all this cash?"

"You're goin' to have to let me go for a minute so I can show y'all," she replied, squirming out of his embrace in order to stand up.

"Me and my big fuckin' mouth!" He swore, reluctantly allowing her off his lap and out of his embrace. He turned the chair to follow her progress to the office closet.

Cat opened the door to reveal a small safe nestled inside. She punched in a code, opened the safe, and slipped the loan money inside. Then she closed the safe and shut the closet door. She turned around and leaned against it. "For now, it'll stay safe and sound in there. If nothin' comes up in the near future requirin' the dough, I'll return it to the loan company when the first payment is due."

"Won't ya have to pay interest?"

She shrugged. "A little. It'll be worth it because enough time will have elapsed that they won't get suspicious. And I'll have a history of early full payback with them."

"Sounds like ya thought this out pretty thoroughly," he replied approvingly.

"I've tried to, love." She replied.

"Just like ya figured out all that 'old lady' shit you were tellin' Ima about. I sure as shit never told ya any of that!"

"So all y'all were listenin' at the door!" She retorted accusingly.

"Best way to gain intel, baby!" He frowned intently and added, "Did ya happen to learn that shit from the Terre Haute club?"

"A little," she admitted. "Keep in mind that Cory never patched in. The club expected that kind of thing from my ridin' group, even though none of us were 'old ladies' or their version of Croweaters."

"None of them ever claimed ya?" He asked incredulously. 'Dumb asses!'

She shook her head. "Nope. None of us were willin' to be claimed, and we made it clear that we might share beer and rides, but our bods were off-limits! The guys respected that as long as we gave 'em respect. The rest of it just made sense when we hooked up, love." She walked past him to the hallway, forgetting all about the email she'd pulled up. "C'mon, love. The cats are asleep, and if the club's comin' home, y'all need your rest."

"What about the computer?"

"Just leave it on. I'll check it in the mornin'," she replied, heading on down the hall to the bedroom.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Wait up!" He called, launching himself out of the office chair. He flipped off the light and headed on into the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt on the run.

Cat had escaped to the bathroom by the time he got into their bedroom. He sighed in exasperation and returned to the front of the house to check the doors and windows, ensuring everything was locked up and turned off for the night. He padded back down the hall to the bedroom to find her already in bed, sitting propped against the pillows.

Alex closed the door a bit, glancing at the sleeping Misty at the foot of the bed. "She stayin'?"

"It depends on y'all," Cat remarked. "She'll take off if things get too active for her liking."

"True dat," he slipped his rings and wrist bands off, leaving them in the dish she had long ago placed on the dresser for them. His chain and pendant followed shortly after.

He quickly stirpped and climbed into bed beside her, snorting with impatience to find she was wearing a nightgown. "Dunno why ya bother with that thing! It's gonna be off ya soon enough!"

"Keeps me warm when you're not here," she grinned.

"Well, I'm here now!" He growled, grabbing the bottom of the gown and pulling it none too gently over her head. He wadded the offending garment into a ball and tossed it on top of his discarded clothes. "That's more like it!" He sighed contentedly, draping his arm around her and drawing his wife close to him.

The only light in the room was the small bedside lamp on the table on his side of the bed. "Want me to turn it off?"

"Nah. That can come later," she replied, snuggling against the warmth of his body.

"Mind if I ask ya a question, baby?"

"Ask away, love. You should know y'all don't have to ask."

"What do ya think of Ima?"

She sat up a bit to gaze intently at him. "As old lady material, or in general?"

"Both."

"Apparently y'all weren't eavesdroppin' when I told her this. Ima's OK people with me. She might be a porn star and a little free with her favors, but she's always treated me well, so I'm givin' her the same."

"What about her bein' with Kozik?" Alex pressed.

"He seems smitten with her and she seems to want to be with him. She was really receptive to what I said about bein' an 'old lady'. I guess time will tell, love." She settled back against his side. "What about you and 'Herman'? All y'all looked pretty chummy out there in the back yard! Y'all havin' a change of heart?"

"Would it be so bad if I were?" He countered quietly.

Cat carefully considered that question. Lumpy had asked her to go easy on the Tacoma outlaw, and he had seemed to change his tune from causing trouble for them.

"How do y'all feel about it?" She inquired at last.

"Dammit! That's not fair to answer my question with another question!" He protested, running his hands over her stomach and breasts.

"All's fair in love and war, husband!" She laughed.

"You are seriously gonna pay for that!"

"Yeah, I'm so - o - o scared!" The teasing light in her eyes faded. "Seriously, love. Do y'all feel like you could share the patch with him?'

Alex sighed and put the hand that had been caressing her body behind his head. "I really dunno, baby. He's been a lotta help with this Tara thing. Really stepped up to the plate. Did I tell ya that he was the one who persuaded Alvarez to go along with playin' dead for a day?"

"No. I'm a little surprised."

"So was I. He took the right approach with Alvarez, though. Played on the family thing. How it would devastate Jax if somethin' happened to the girl he loved."

"Whew!" Cat whistled. "That's pretty deep for a guy that just fell for a girl himself!"

"If he hadn't been there, Piney and I might not have lived to tell about it," Alex added solemnly.

She recognized what he was really trying to tell her, that he was feeling bad for not being the one to reach out to Alvarez like Kozik had, despite the way he felt about her. "Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve, love," she assured him. "Some people are good at doin', some more at talkin' about it. Frankly, I prefer to see a little action than a lot of words!"

Alex's eyes began to gleam with wicked delight. "I wouldn't mind a little action right now!" He pulled her close to him, fitting his body against hers. His lips cut off any protest before she could utter it.

Misty stood up and arched her back in a luxurious stretch, turning her head over her shoulder to glare disdainfully at the humans that had disturbed her sleep. She flipped her tail at them, then jumped from the bed to the chair on Alex's side of the bed. She snorted at the two humans, who were too engrossed in each other to notice her. She turned around so that her back was to them and curled up in the chair, pulling her tail over her ears and shutting her eye.

---

Salazar cruised the back alleys of Oaktown and Lodi, trying to find a car to switch for the Camaro. It seemed to him that the Fates were conspiring against him. Every time he tried to go near a promising vehicle to boost it, either a pedestrian or someone else got too close for comfort and he had to abort the mission.

Tara feared he would become more irrational with each failed attempt. She remained silent, asking nothing of him until or unless he spoke to her. When he asked her anything, answered as quickly and with as few words as possible.

'I might as well wait until tomorrow to get another vehicle; just carjack it and be done with it!' Hector decided. He'd have a better chance of taking a vehicle instead of trying to hot wire one at night.

Luisa's body was beginning to deteriorate in the heat of the car. The smell wasn't very good, either. Flies buzzed all over Luisa's body, furthering enraging Salazar. He tried running the car with the windows up, but the smell quickly overpowered him so that he abandoned that idea.

Tara's stomach lurched from the stench of decomposition. She fought against her nausea as she knew it would trip his hair trigger temper.

"We need to find someplace to hide out for the night!" Hector snarled.

Tara nodded, keeping her face turned towards the open window so she could breathe untainted air. He returned to the housing addition where his aunt's house was located. He parked the Camaro on a side street and hauled Tara along with him to check out the house.

"Caramaba! Thefuckin' policia!" He muttered, keeping an iron grip on Tara's arm.

"The police are staking out the house?" She inquired.

"Si," He pointed to a couple of unmarked Crown Vics parked on the street. "Your supervisor didn't waste any time," he added wryly.

"Did you think she wouldn't?" Tara snapped, fear and fatigue combining to loosen the leash she'd put on her own temper.

"Don't get any ideas about alerting them to our presence, either!" He snarled, holding the gun to her temple. "I can still kill you before you could call out to them!"

"So you keep reminding me!" Tara muttered.

Salazar gave her a sideways look, but didn't respond except to pull her away from the intersection and back to the car.

"We still need a place to hide overnight. Get some food and sleep." He observed.

"You need to get Luisa's body someplace where she can be cared for," Tara countered. "You're going to want to hold a service for her sometime!"

"Not while the heat is on!" Salazar swore.

"How much money do you have?"

Tara turned out her pockets. "You should know; you took my purse and wallet!"

Salazar dug into his pockets, coming up with another cash to buy some food, but little else. "Shit!"

He had no other choice. He might've had a bad out with the club, but he still had friends who owed him favors. He'd have to call them in; at least for the night. He dug out his cell phone. "Stay here. Do not try to escape," he warned Tara.

He got out of the car and stood in front of the hood where he could watch his captive. He spoke in rapid Spanish into the phone, gesturing wildly with the gun. The conversation went on for several minutes, then Salazar closed the phone and returned to the car, sliding behind the steering wheel. He had a satisfied smirk on his face. Without a word to Tara, he started the ignition and pulled sedately out of the housing addition so he wouldn't attract the attention of the police.

Cat woke up from a sound sleep to the sounds of snoring from the cats and her husband. She stretched luxuriously, noting that there was less tension in her muscles than before, despite the strenuous workout Alex had given her.

She lay in bed waiting to go back to sleep. The bedroom was quiet except for the sounds of sleep going on around her. She was wide awake, and decided against fighting the bed, which would disturb Alex.

She slipped out of his embrace, adjusted the bed covers to keep him warm, and pulled a robe around her. The cats didn't move a muscle as she slipped her eyeglasses on and moved down the hall to the office.

She shut the door behind her, though left it open a crack in case one of the felines wanted to visit her. She slid into the office chair and wiggled the mouse to activate the computer from 'sleep mode'. "Sorry, 'puter. If I can't sleep, why should y'all?" She murmured.

The computer screen gradually brightened, still set to the email she'd opened earlier.

She smiled as she read the contents. It was good news for her business, and for the club. She'd gotten approval to provide baked treats for sale at Stockton!

"I'm glad I prepared 'the kids' for this!' She thought. 'Baking day will just be a little more busy from now on!'

The email had an attachment, which was the contract between herself and the commissary. She would need to download it, print and sign it, then return it via fax or snail mail. She read through the contract, which appeared in line with the items she'd verbally agreed to.

'I'll send this to Ally so she can review it for me, then if it's a go, I'll print it later on and fax it back.'

She wrote a brief explanatory email to the lawyer, advising she'd be available by phone if Ally had any questions or concerns for her. After attaching the file, she sent the email and sat back, sighing in satisfaction.

She yawned widely and grinned ruefully. "Figures I'd get sleepy again!" She muttered.

"Then come back to bed, baby," Alex replied, leaning against the open door frame. The blueish light from the computer screen bathed his naked body.

"Missed me that quickly?" She grinned, turning to gaze at him.

"Always. Thought this was gonna wait 'til mornin'?"

She pointed at the right hand corner of the computer screen. "It is mornin, technically."

"Fuck technicalities. Get your ass back in bed!"

"Just my ass, love?"

"Ya know what I mean, woman!" He growled.

"Yes, dear," she replied meekly. The mischievous grin on her face proved the obedient demeanor was a sham. She saved the email, logged out of the internet, and powered down the computer.

"What the fuck was so important that ya couldn't wait to read it, anyway?" He inquired while leading her back to their bed.

"An email from the commissary director at Stockton. I got the concession!"

'That's definitely gonna work out in our favor!' He squeezed her hand in a congratulatory manner.

"Is that the best y'all can do?" She murmured in disappointment. "I thought y'all would be happy that some more cash is goin' to the club!"

He willed himself not to give away the club's plan to her, then turned to embrace her. "Of course I'm happy, baby. Not just because of the money for the club; it's what ya wanted for your business, isn't it?"

"Sure y'all aren't too worried about me overdoin'?"

"You have your employees to help ya, and you said you're only gonna deliver once a week, right?"

She nodded, the back of her mind already going over the details. "That's why I wanted the PT, it can haul a lot of stuff!"

Alex yawned and slid between the sheets. "Ya comin', baby?"

"That's a loaded question!" She smirked.

"Guilty!" He grinned. The sheepish grin turned to a frown when she picked up the iPhone. "Who the Hell are ya callin' at this late hour?"

"No one. Just making myself a note to alert 'the kids' about this tomorrow during the lull," she explained, tapping the keys on her iPhone.

"I knew that," he muttered.

"I know," she placed the iPhone on her bedside table and slid under the covers beside him. "Mind if I ask y'all a question, love?"

"What's that, baby?" He turned in the bed so that he was facing her while she snuggled against his chest.

"Why do y'all come lookin' for me whenever I leave you alone in bed?"

"Guess it's because I like wakin' up to ya next to me, and miss you when you're gone," he shrugged.

She smiled and nestled closer to him. "Good. I was afraid it was because y'all were worried I might hurt myself," she sighed sleepily.

'There's that, too, but damned if I'm gonna tell ya that!' He thought ruefully. "Shut up and go to sleep, woman."

She yawned widely and retorted, "I will, once somebody quits talkin'!"

"You are really gonna pay for that one, woman!" He teased, sliding his hands over her tired but willing body.

"Promises, promises!"

"A promise I intend to make good on!"

---

Unlike the trip across Ireland to Belfast, SAMCRO met no law enforcement traps on their return to Manchester. Most of the same riders from SAMBEL accompanied the California outlaws, so that the borrowed Harleys could be returned to Belfast. There were a few new faces to replace those that had been killed during the Sons' visit.

Fiona and Kerrianne were traveling in the truck with the SAMBEL riders, Abel, and Gemma. The SAMCRO matriarch had a death grip on the bassinet holding Abel. She had no intention of allowing anyone else to hold her grandson.

"Is she goin' ta huld tha' baybah all tha way ta Charmin'?" Kerrianne whispered to her mother.

"If I have to," Gemma remarked dryly. "It's kinda normal for a parent or grandparent to feel this way after their child's been taken from them for any length of time."

"Doesnae seem ta hev enny effect on Da," Kerrianne muttered.

"Yer Da ached fer ye evry minnit o' tha day, young laidy!" Fiona snapped. "And dinnae ye fergit it! Ye're a wee bit aulder than Abel, gurrl, but dinnae ye doubt yer Da's feelin's fer ye! 'E missed ya evry day!"

"Ah know, Mum. Ah 'ated Jimmy takin' us frum 'im, forcin' 'im outta SAMBEL an' away frum us," Kerrianne murmured. "'E wuld look at me when ye wasnae aroun'; ways tha' made me uncomfurable an' skaired."

"Ah know, luv. Jimmy wasnae a fadder; dere's nae doubt aboot tha'. Boot we're free o' 'im, and we'll be livin' in safety in 'Ashby Alley'."

"Only ifn' Jimmy isnae alive, Mum," Kerrianne shuddered.

"Tha Irish Kings willnae allow 'im ta return ta Belfast, luv," Fiona assured her. "'E's boined alla 'is bridges wid 'em."

Kerrianne cast a doubtful glance at her mother before turning her iPad on and losing herself in her music.

"Jimmy didn't touch her, did he?" Gemma whispered to Fiona.

"Nay. 'E wuz bidin' 'is tyme until she wuz legal," Fiona explained. "'E knew ifn 'e tryed ennythin', Ah'd kill 'im. Boot 'e lyked ta intimidate 'er."

"He certainly did a good job of it," Gemma noted dryly.

"Ah wuz 'opin' ta 'ave Fawthur Ashby talk wid 'er aboot it," Fiona replied. "Guess Ah'll 'ave ta find sumone else."

"I'm sure you'll find somebody she can trust," Gemma assured her one - time nemesis. 'Hell, Chuckie would be a better choice over Father Ashby!'

Jax rode in his usual place to Clay's left, but kept glancing back in his rear view mirror at the truck. He wanted to make sure nothing happened to Abel. He'd wanted to ride in the truck with his son, but Clay had vetoed that idea. "You're leavin' the same way ya came in - ridin'! Gem will take care of Abel."

Gemma had administered a massive shot of cortisone into Clay's hands before they headed out that night. But the long ride across the country made his hands cramp painfully from holding the throttle open. 'I really should look into gettin' a throttle lock. It's not a sign of weakness to have one; lots of club leaders have 'em for long hauls!'

Chibs also glanced back at the truck from time to time, keeping an eye on his girls. He hated to part with them, but he couldn't stay in Belfast, much as he'd thought of it. 'Dere's noot enny way ta transfer fur a couple o' years until Kerrianne's outta school. Clay wuld nevah agree ta tha'. My life is in Charmin' now. Ah dinnae feel at 'ome 'ere dis tyme. Und den ders tha' memory o' Padriac's death ta contend wid. Ah'll nevah feel tha' same aboot me 'omeland!'

He and Fiona had discussed their immediate future at some length. There was no doubt in his mind that Kerrianne would stay in Ireland. It was the only home she knew, despite any shenanigans Jimmy might have pulled.

"It wouldnae be fair ta uproot 'er," Chibs observed. "Charmin' wuld be far too diff'runt fer 'er. 'Tis best tha' two o'ye stay 'ere."

"Und dere's no way ye kin stay 'ere, is der, Filip?" Fiona stated.

"Aye. Belfast isnae me 'ome eny more. Losin' Padriach wuz tha' last straw," he sighed.

"Den we'll mayke it wurk, Filip," Fiona assured him. They planned out his visits back to Belfast every quarter. The women would travel to Charming for the Christmas holiday.

"Kerrianne doesnae 'ave paypers fer overseas travel," Fiona observed flatly. "Jimmy nevah alloud 'er ta 'ave 'em. It wuz another way 'e controlled me. Tha basturd knew Ah wouldnae try ta escape inna da states ifn me dauter wuz still in Belfast."

"Jimmy's a basturd, a'right," Chibs noted grimly. "Und one o' dese days, Ah'll mayke 'im pay fer alla tha' 'urt 'e caused us!"

The group was tired by the time they reached Manchester and the cargo plane Oswald had sent to bring SAMCRO back to California. Little was said as the travelers bags were unloaded from the truck and stored in the plane.

Clay, Gemma, and Jax, along with Happy, Opie, and Juice said quick goodbyes to their SAMBEL escorts. Clay lingered a few extra minutes to counsel the newly appointed SAMBEL president on the agreement with the Irish Kings.

"You know you can call the clubhouse any time you need to," he added. "If I'm not available, there's always gonna be someone to help ya."

The new SAMBEL president nodded solemnly. A lot had happened in the few short days the mother charter had been present. It wasn't the Redwood Originals fault that McGee and O'Neill had turned rat, but the Belfast charter was still traumatized by the loss of their leader and SAA.

Jax managed to extract Abel from his mother's iron grip. "I'm not ridin' now, Mom," he explained with a tired grin. "I really want to hold him for awhile."

Gemma reluctantly handed her grandson over to her son's care. Her arms ached to keep her grandson close. 'Abel looks so much like Thomas at times that it's scary! Maybe that's why I want to be with him so much. I still miss Thomas after all these years.'

Chibs held his wife and daughter in a tight embrace. The closer the time to board the plane, the harder it was going to be let them go. 'I shouldnae 'ave let 'em coom!' He thought. 'It wouldnae be so 'ard ta lave 'em!'

"We'll call ye each un evry day, Filip," Fiona murmured reassuringly. "Und dere's email as well. It'll be almost as if we're right dere wid ye."

"It willnae be tha' sayme," Chibs observed softly. "Boot it will 'ave ta do until Ah coom back ta visit."

"It'll be better, Da," Kerrianne added. "Dere willnae be annyun keepin' us apart frum now on!"

"True dat," he grinned. He buried his face in their shoulders, shaking with emotion. They were equally as emotional, as tears spilled down both Fiona's and Kerrianne's cheeks.

"Ye'll be sayfe in 'Ashby Alley'," Chibs assured them. "Ah'll call ye tonight when we git ta Charmin'."

"Aye," Fiona sniffled. "Ye'd better ifn ye know whut's gud fer ye!"

"Dat's me gurl!" Chibs grinned weakly. He reluctantly released them, planted a kiss on his daughter's cheek, and gave Fiona a passionate goodbye kiss. He then turned and rushed into the cargo plane without looking back.

"Why didnae 'e look back at us, Mum?"

"So it wouldnae 'urt as much, luv," she replied softly. "Dis 'urts yer fawther as much as it 'urts us. 'E's already missin' us."

"Ah already miss 'im," Kerrianne sighed.

Fiona threw her arm around her daughter's shoulders and led her back to the waiting truck. There would be plenty of room for them now, with the majority of the passengers now mounted on the Harleys.

The truck pulled away from the cargo plane, following the line of Harleys from the airfield. They had a lot of ground to cover to return to Belfast. Behind them, the cargo plane's engines engaged and the giant aircraft began rolling slowly towards its' assigned runway.

As the SAMBEL vehicles turned onto the main highway, the giant aircraft engines gave a mighty roar and leaped into the inky darkness, headed towards California.

---

Margaret Murphy steered her station wagon into her driveway, turned off the engine, and remained seated in the front seat. She sighed in contentment at the sight of her house. 'I feared I'd never see it again at times!'

The front door opened and her children ran out to the car. They squealed with delight to see her get out of the car. Before she could shut the door, both children had wrapped their arms around her in a giant bear hug.

David was right on their heels, and enfolded her in his own giant hug. "I'm glad you're safe!" He cried.

Margaret assured her husband and children she was fine, just hungry and tired. "I'd really like to have a hot bath, and a good meal!" She explained.

"OK, kids! Let's get Mommy inside and get her fed!" David announced, taking Margaret's hand and leading her to the house.

"We started fixing a special meal for you the minute we found out you were coming home!" Her eldest informed her, pulling on her other hand.

"We wanted it to be special!" The youngest added.

"I'm sure it will be, because you all made it!" She assured them. Tears of gratitude swam in her eyes, making it difficult for her to see. She was happy to be home and with her family. She was happy to be safe. 'I only wish Tara were just as safe!'

She'd given a complete description of the car Salazar had driven to CPD. Agent Stahl had spoken with her briefly, much to Margaret's distaste. Stahl's questions had been brief, and focused on the location of the house. Margaret had been proud that she'd remembered to get the house number and street name before she left.

She'd given Stahl a hard look when the agent had spoken with her. Stahl was already aware that Margaret would no longer work with her to bring down Tara Knowles. Not after she'd covered for Tara when Gemma escaped.

"You do know we'll discuss that episode at a later date," Stahl whispered to Margaret after she'd given her statement to the CPD officer.

"I don't see why we should," Margaret retorted. "I told Chief Unser and your agent at the hospital what happened. It's not likely that the story is going to change because of the kidnapping!"

"I guess we'll see, won't we?" Stahl observed dryly.

"If you're trying to intimidate me, it won't work anymore, Agent Stahl," Margaret assured her.

Stahl shrugged and walked away. The loss of Margaret Murphy as a tool didn't matter to her. Tools were plentiful if one knew where to look, and Stahl always knew where to look.

Once she'd given her statement to the police officer, Margaret had been allowed to go home. Unser offered to have one of the uniformed officers drive her and another bring her car home. "Thanks, Chief Unser, but I'd rather get home on my own. The sight of a patrol car pulling up to the house might upset my family."

"I did call to let your husband know the minute SJSD called us," he assured her.

"I appreciate that, but I'd still rather go on my own," she replied.

Unser nodded his head and watched as Margaret walked regally out of the police station to her car. Once the station wagon pulled out of the parking lot, he turned to his officers and ordered them to get started on finding Salazar and Tara Knowles.

Margaret allowed her family to lead her into her house. The smell of good cooking met her nose, making her mouth water. She wasn't sure what she wanted first, to eat or to bathe.

Her husband recognized her dilemma. "It'll be awhile before dinner's ready. I'm sure you might like a bubble bath," he stated.

"That sounds good!" She smiled. "It'll help me relax."

"Do you want a glass of wine with your bath?" He asked.

"Yes, please," she called over her shoulder, heading towards the master bath and bedroom.

"Kids, come and help me!" David called from the kitchen. "Your mother's not going to be going anywhere!"

'Damn straight!' Margaret thought grimly, closing the door to the bathroom behind her. She ran hot water into the tub, along with a capful of her bubble bath. She tore the clothing from her body, leaving the outfit in a crumpled heap on the floor and stepped into the steaming, fragrant water.

She sighed again in contentment, feeling the hot water work to relax her muscles.

A tap on the door was followed by David's head sticking past the threshold. "I brought the wine."

"Come on in," she replied, accepting the glass from him. "Will you do something for me?" She added after taking a sip of the cool beverage.

"Get rid of those clothes?" He inquired dryly.

"The sooner the better. Don't bother trying to wash them. Just throw them in the trash!"

"OK," he agreed. He tossed the clothing into the trash can, then tied the plastic bag inside and hefted it in his hand. "Need anything else?"

"No. We'll talk later, I promise. The kids OK?"

"They're setting the table with the best China," he grinned.

Margaret smiled in satisfaction. "This is a night for celebrating!"

"Amen to that!" David replied. "Take your time, darling."

"I will," she assured him, lying back against the tub as he closed the door behind him.

Margaret allowed her thoughts to roam as she relaxed in the hot water. She knew that she'd be anxious and jumpy for awhile. The hospital had a good counseling service, so she'd be sure to make use of that first thing in the morning. She knew from experience that talking about the event would make it easier for her to deal with it.

As for that night, she intended to enjoy being with her family. She'd come very close to losing what was most important to her. "Thank you for letting me come home. Please bring Tara back safe!" She whispered.

---

Salazar brought the Camaro to a stop in front of an older, single story house. The outside looked like it had seen better days. There were lights on in the house, which indicated to Tara there was electricity.

A lone male figure wearing a wife beater and jeans stepped into the front yard and waved at Salazar before advancing to the car. "Hola, Hector!"

"Hola, compadre! Where can I stash the car; the cops are lookin' for it!"

"Bring it around to the back yard. It's fenced in; I'll open the gate. We can cover it with a tarp in case the policia get too nosy and peek over the fence," the figure replied.

"Si. They'd have to get a warrant to get under the tarp," Hector nodded.

"I'll meet you out back," the male replied, casting an interested gaze at Hector's companion. 'Wonder where Luisa is? I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate seeing Hector with a gringa!' He shrugged and walked around the side of the house to the back yard.

Hector put the Camaro in drive and pulled away from the house. He turned the corner and piloted it down the alley until he found the open gate his friend had mentioned. He made the turn and pulled forward until the car was between the alley and the house.

"Get out!" He barked to Tara.

'Gladly!' She scrambled out of the car, grateful to get away from the stench of Luisa's decomposing body.

Salazar's friend was busy with securing the gate. Hector pointed at the waiting blue tarp. "Help me get this over the car!" He ordered brusquely.

Tara reached down and picked up a corner of the tarp. Salazar held the opposite side of the covering. Together, they pulled it over the Camaro so that it was completely covered.

Salazar's friend approached them as they completed the work. "Who's the gringa?"

"My hostage," Salazar retorted. "So don't get any ideas!"

The male let loose with a barrage of angry Spanish. Salazar responded in kind, then brandished his gun at Tara. "Get inside the house!" He ordered her in English.

Tara cast an uncertain glance at Salazar's friend. "I'm not sure your buddy is very happy about the idea," she observed.

"Fuck that! I'm giving the orders here, and I said to get inside!" Salazar pointed the gun at Tara's head with one hand and pointed to the back door with the other. "Now, move!"

Tara backed away from the car towards the house, holding her hands at shoulder level.

"Turn around and watch where you're goin'!" Salazar yelled. "Estupido puta! I don't need you falling over your feet!"

Tara turned so that her back was to her captor and walked slowly towards the back door of the house. She opened the screen door, which screeched on its' hinges. The sight of the kitchen didn't do much to encourage her.

The garbage can was filled to overflowing and flies buzzed lazily around it. The sink was filled with dirty dishes. The house smelled rank and Tara's shoes stuck to the linoleum in the kitchen, making her stomach turn. She determined the house must be a flop house or crack house. 'I can't believe he expects us to sleep here! I'd almost rather stay in the car!'

Salazar motioned for her to continue further into the house. The front room wasn't much better than the kitchen. There was a boom box sitting on the floor, along with a dilapidated couch that had seen much better days. A sheet covered the front window. The floor was covered in a layer of dust and old newspapers.

Tara took in the front room in a matter of a few seconds, as Salazar indicated that she should continue towards the rear of the house. She closed her eyes briefly and walked down the hallway until Salazar told her to stop.

"Open the door, puta!" He barked.

Tara reached out a shaking hand to grasp the sticky doorknob. She turned it and pushed the door open. This room was a little cleaner than the kitchen and the front room, but not by much. Another dirty sheet covered the window. A mattress lay on the floor, covered by a dirty sheet.

"Go inside. That's where you're stayin' for the night!" Salazar grinned evilly.

"Are you planning on tying me up again?" She inquired grimly.

"Nah. No need. Mi amigos and I will be right in the front room. If you try to get past us, it won't be very nice for you!" Salazar laughed.

"I know," she sighed wearily. "You'll kill me if I try to escape."

"True. But I'll let mi amigos have their way with you before I do," he grinned.

Tara shrugged and walked into the room. Salazar closed the door, then she heard what sounded like the click of a lock making contact. She tried the doorknob, which turned, but the door didn't budge.

"Si, puta! I locked you in! That's for your own safety, in case my friends get a little rowdy!" Salazar called through the door. He laughed and spoke some words to his friend in Spanish. Whatever he said made the other man laugh. Tara listened to their voices move down the hall to the front room again.

She sighed and wrapped her arms around her chest. There was no way she would lie down on that bed. 'Lord only knows what kind of bugs are in that mattress!' she observed. She tried the light switch, relieved to find that the overhead light worked. The bare bulb cast a harsh illumination on the small room but didn't improve the ambiance. Other than the questionable mattress, there was a straight-backed chair in the room. 'It's not much, but it beats the floor!' Tara mused dryly. She moved the chair to the wall, so she could lean against it and sat down.

Out in the living room, Salazar and his friend spoke in Spanish to each other. The conversation was pitted with harsh laughter from the men and the occasional sound of a fist hitting the wall.

Each time Tara heard that noise, it jerked her out of a light sleep and made her heart race. She never knew when or if Salazar's friend might overpower her captor and try to get to her.

'It's gonna be a long night!'

---

Tyler finished her report and sent it to Stahl via email as an attached document file. She kept the content of her email professional and brief. After sending the email, she gathered her belongings and walked out of the ATF building.

She drove aimlessly around town, not really seeing anything and reacting instinctively to changes in the traffic around her. Her mind reeled from the cruel reality that her relationship with Stahl had soured. The signs had been there ever since the night Jax Teller had shown up at their door. The very next day, Gemma's testimony had implicated her for the death of Cameron Hayes in Galt.

'The official duty roster should've shown that I was no where near the shooting, but someone altered it!' Tyler reminded herself grimly. The only person with that kind of clearance is June. No one else on the team would've set me up for a bad shoot!' She had a copy of the original roster she was sent in her personal email. She had serious doubts that it would prove her innocence. Not when Stahl was holding all the aces.

Tyler snorted in derision as she glanced at herself in the rear view mirror. "No one else on the team will dare defy Stahl and testify that I wasn't at the Hayes' house that day!"

Stahl's secretiveness in taking late night phone calls from Teller, and her refusal to report that she knew SAMCRO had gone to Belfast were proof positive to Tyler that Stahl was working clandestinely with the club. "All the cloak and dagger behavior Stahl had been exhibiting wouldn't be necessary if the deal was on the up and up!"

She wasn't up to going home and spending a long evening pretending that nothing was wrong. She was quite uncomfortable being around June to the point that she felt physically sick in her lover's presence.

Tyler noticed she was nearing a national chain coffee shop. She decided to take a rest break and get some food. She placed her order, then found a secluded corner where she could sit and think undisturbed.

She took a sip of the strong coffee and drew out her pocket notebook. She kept it handy for situations where she might have to write down facts and descriptions from witness interviews. Now, she would be using it for an entirely different reason.

She put pen to paper and began writing all the facts and instances she could recall leading up to the failed drop that day. 'I don't know what I'll do with this, or who I'll trust with it, but just writing all this out is making me feel better!'

---

Kozik and Ima lay nestled in each other arms, drifting in that area between wakefulness and sleep after making love.

"I hope ya intend to take Cat up on her offer, baby," Kozik murmured huskily. "I can't think of a better person to have in your corner, and you're gonna need that as my old lady."

"You expect Tara and Gemma to put up obstacles," she observed.

"I know they will, baby. That's just how they are. From what I've heard, Gem's only just lately boarded the 'pro - Tara' train. She was actually more in favor of Wendy and Jax gettin' back together."

"She's still in rehab, isn't she?"

"Far as I know," Kozik shrugged. "It's inpatient, and they don't allow much contact with the outside world."

"So Wendy has no idea that Abel was kidnapped," Ima mused aloud.

"And it needs to stay that way, baby," Kozik replied. "Learnin' about that kind of news could send her on a downward spiral."

"I have no intention of using that kind of information against Tara or Gemma," Ima huffed. "Frankly, I intend to stay away from the clubhouse as much as possible."

Kozik rose up on one arm to gaze down at her. "Are ya sure ya wanna do that, baby?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," she explained. "The last thing you men need is to worry about catfights amongst the women. Tara is never going to accept me, no matter how cordial I try to be."

"How do ya know?"

She sighed and told him about the morning Tara had caught her with Jax in the apartment. "I said a congenial 'good morning' to her, and she walked out without a word!"

"Well, she probably wasn't in the best of moods at the time," Kozik replied.

"I realize that, and getting bitch slapped by Lyla didn't help any. The only good thing about that morning was hitching up with you!"

Kozik rewarded her with a gentle kiss for that statement. "The morning turned out pretty good for me, too!" He grinned.

"I could try to fight for my rights as your old lady, but from what Cat shared with me, that would just foster more discontent. I don't have to be at the clubhouse to be your old lady, do I?"

"No, I don't recall anything in the by - laws that says ya have to be there."

"Then it's settled. I can be just as supportive to you here as there. Even more so. I won't cause any friction for you with the rest of the club."

"I don't like it!" Kozik growled. "If Tara and the rest of the old ladies are allowed there, you should be, too!"

Ima smiled gently. "I appreciate the support, lover. Maybe once Tara realizes I'm no longer competition for her, she'll accept me." She wrinkled her nose and added to herself, 'But I wouldn't hold my breath!"

---

Oswald's cargo plane had to make a fuel stop between Manchester and Stockton. Abel had handled the trip with few complaints, sleeping through the journey. Most of the club napped during the trip. Jax was the only one having difficulty sleeping. His mind reeled from the news that Tara was carrying his child, and the ramifications of the 'dick move' he'd pulled before leaving for Belfast.

'She must have known about it while we at Grandpa's! Why didn't she say anything?'

Granted, they hadn't had a lot of time to talk that day. He, Clay, and Tig had taken off to rescue club members in trouble in Rogue River. By the time the club returned to Klamath Falls, Gemma had taken Tara's car back to Charming. She had been upset over putting her father in a nursing home and gone back to see her grandson.

'Up until that night, Mom had no idea Abel was missing. She collapsed when Maureen Ashby told her Abel was in Belfast. We were so busy trying to get money for this trip, there really wasn't any opportunity for her to tell me,' he admitted to himself.

Part of that fund raising effort had included selling the Aids drugs the club had obtained from Piney's friend Honey. The drugs had been part of a windfall that had come the club's way when they rescued Honey and three of the club members from hilljacks trying to muscle in on Honey's pharmaceutical venture. Tara had assisted him with selling those AIDS drugs to a local clinic. That sale had been followed by a raid on the compound by the SANWA sheriff and he'd broken up with Tara.

'By the time I pulled the 'dick move', she had no reason to want to tell me about bein' pregnant! I wanted to put distance between the club and Tara to protect her. Maybe that was what she came to tell me that morning, only to find me with Ima!' He scrubbed his face with both hands. He'd really fucked things up that day. His intention was to allow Tara a life away from the craziness of the club, so that she didn't have to compromise her career. 'If I'd known about the baby, I'd never had spent the night with Ima!'

He'd never stopped loving Tara. He loved her enough to set her free. Now that he knew she carried his child, he wanted to be a part of her life more than ever. 'But will she take me back?' He wondered.

Her words to him so many weeks ago taunted him. Cheating would be the breaker for her, and that was what he'd done with Ima. He'd stormed into the clubhouse, taken her from Kozik, and used her in the worse way possible. The minute Tara had seen them together, he'd sent Ima away like a twenty-dollar whore.

He regretted that now, only because of all the hurt it caused Tara. Ima didn't matter to him. She never had. He'd only played up to her to keep LuAnn happy. 'LuAnn's gone, and Caracara might be gone if Dondo doesn't take it over. There's no need for me to play up to her anymore. They say 'dick moves' can be undone, but I'm not sure Tara will forgive me.'

Jax wrestled with his doubts and fears during the remainder of the trip. By the time they were in California air space, he'd made up his mind to win Tara back, no matter what it took. She was his past and his future.

---

Alex woke and turned his head to Cat's side of the bed, expecting to find it empty as usual. To his surprise, his wife was still asleep. He lay in the bed, listening to her regular breathing, then realized that the cats weren't on the bed with them. He glanced at the alarm clock across the room to find that it was past time for them to be in their room at the coffeehouse.

'Maybe one of her employees opened up the cat door from the garage; they've done that before,' he mused, enjoying a long, bone cracking stretch.

He felt better than he had since the night of the wreck. His wife's health was improving, Abel had been found, and the club was on the way back home from Belfast. 'I'll be glad to turn the leadership back over to Clay where it belongs! He's a lot better at this shit than I am!'

Thinking of the club's imminent return reminded him that he didn't have much time before Jax's plan entered its' final phase. He needed to make some calls from the privacy of home while Cat was still asleep. He slid quietly out of bed, careful not to disturb her and slipped into his jeans. He padded barefoot into the kitchen where the Brewmaster had cycled fresh brewed whiskey blend. He poured a cup full, grabbed a Snicker Bar Muffin, and took them both out to the front porch where he could smoke and make his calls.

He settled on his favorite perch, a railing on the right side of the front door, lit up, and dug his burner out of his pocket. The first call he made was to Unser at CPD.

"No sign of Tara or Salazar, Tig," the chief reported. "You know I'd have called you first thing."

"What the fuck are ya sayin'? They just disappeared?"

"Seems that way. SANWA, Lodi, and Oaktown have searched the entire area. So have my unis. No sign of the Camaro. ATF was staking out the house Salazar held the women in, but other than finding a large puddle of blood in the bathtub, they came up with nothing."

"Blood in the bathtub? Whose?" Tig nearly bit the filter off his cigarette.

"Not Tara's. My guess is it was Salazar's girlfriend; the one Margaret said Tara slashed."

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that," Tig replied.

"Any news on Abel?" Unser inquired.

Tig's hand caressed the bridge of his nose. Unser was still dead to the club as far as Clay was concerned, though he had been of some help in the Prez' absence. The fact that the club was en route to Charming was something Unser didn't need to know yet. "Nah. Guess they're still chasin' down leads," he lied smoothly.

"Damn! I sympathize with Jax," Unser sighed. "I'll let you know the minute I find out anything about Tara."

Tig snapped the burner closed and drank a swig of coffee. It was unsettling that Tara was still missing and Salazar still at large. 'Least she didn't turn up dead!' He sighed, inhaling deeply on the cigarette.

He opened the burner again and called the body shop that had taken the Challenger in. He wanted to be sure the car would be ready when Jax's plan came to its' conclusion.

"It's looking good, Tig," the owner of the shop assured him. "We had to mix the plum crazy ourselves; Mopar doesn't make the original shade anymore, and you were very specific that it had to as authentic as possible."

"Damn straight!" He growled. "Did that stereo system come in? She likes her tunes when she's on long trips."

"Yeah, we're havin' to modify the dash a bit so it'll fit. Dodge didn't have cassette and CD players back then, just the AM radios."

"As long as it doesn't look like ya cut it all to Hell, that's fine," he replied.

"Still want it delivered to the house?"

"Plan on it unless I tell ya otherwise the day of delivery," he stated.

"Yes, sir."

Tig lit another cigarette and dialed the pre set number for Kozik's burner. It rang several times, then the Tacoma rider's sleep filled voice grated, "Yeah?"

"Get your lazy ass up, brother!" Tig grinned.

"Give me one good reason to!" Kozik growled sleepily.

"The club's comin' back today."

"Shit!" Kozik coughed and sounded a little more wide awake. "Guess that's good enough reason. You'll be out at the compound later?"

"Count on it."

"Any word on Tara?"

"None. It's like the asshat has gone invisible overnight!" Tig complained.

"At least we can take comfort in the fact that she's still alive," Kozik replied.

"Damn small comfort, if ya ask me!"

"I know. Catch ya later, bro," Kozik snapped his cell closed and tossed it on the bedside table next to him. Lyla snuggled closer to him, and he draped his arm around her.

"No sign of Tara?" She murmured.

"Nah. That's both good news and bad."

"So I gathered," she sighed. "Salazar can't hide forever."

"He's doin' a damn good job of it!" Kozik muttered.

"You said the police have an APB out on the car," Ima observed.

"Yeah, but cars can be ditched, baby. If he got rid of the Camaro, that'll make him harder to find," Kozik explained. "It'd be nice if we could report that she's safe and sound when the club gets back."

"There's still time, she might still turn up safe."

"I hope you're right, baby."

Alex and Cat held a similar conversation when he found her in the television room. She woke up shortly after he left the bedroom. She slipped into her robe and limped to the kitchen for some coffee. She smiled indulgently when she saw Alex sitting on the front porch through the front window and waved at him as she continued on to the kitchen. She poured herself some coffee with creamer and settled down in the television room to read the paper, which she'd left earlier when she fed the cats.

"Won't be nothin' about Tara in there," Alex announced from the doorway.

"Not namin' her, but there is a write-up about law enforcement searchin' for Salazar," she replied.

"What?" Alex sprang to her side to read the article she pointed to. The headline read, 'Manhunt for Kidnapper Continues; One Victim Released Unharmed.' He scrubbed his face with his hand and moaned, "Shit!"

"The story doesn't name Tara, but does relate that Margaret was the person released. The reporter states neither law enforcement nor St. Thomas returned their calls." Cat added.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It's journalism speak for 'I waited until the last-minute to get quotes and nobody accepted my call'." She snorted.

"I don't like it!"

"Nothin' y'all can do about it now, love. It was gonna make the news once Margaret returned," Cat shrugged. "The fact that Tara's name isn't mentioned gives her a modicum of safety."

Alex sank onto the arm of her chair and draped his arm around her shoulder. "I hope you're right, baby. You've got more knowledge of how the media works than I do."

"Salazar had to know the word would get out once he released Margaret. That would give him more reason to ditch the car Margaret described to the cops."

"And it's mentioned in the story, isn't it?" Alex moaned again.

"Yeah, but that's a good thing. There's more eyeballs watchin' for the car. If he's either ditched it, or still in it, some 'Good Samaritan' is bound to see it and report it to the cops."

"Won't do a damn bit of good if it's abandoned!" Alex growled.

Cat shrugged. "That's true. By the way, y'all could've saved yourself some time and bother callin' Unser for an update."

"Why's that?"

"If anything had happened - good or bad - he'd have been over to tell us about it," she explained.

"Maybe they just haven't found her body," Alex noted dryly.

"Well, that's possible, but it's also kind of a defeatist way of lookin' at it. We need all the positive vibes we can get at the moment," Cat sighed.

"Yeah, but sometimes it helps to have affirmation."

"Never hurts to make sure," she observed, taking a sip of coffee and leaning her head against his chest.

"Not to change the subject, but how ya feelin', baby?"

"A little sleepy, but otherwise not bad," she assured him. "I think that long sleep yesterday did a lot of good."

"You should do more of that today," he replied. "Do ya have to go over to the coffeehouse to tell 'em about the added business?"

"I owe 'the kids' that much. Besides, the lull is always the best time for that kind of thing. There won't be a lot of demands on me from the customers."

"I suppose you're right. When did ya let the cats out?"

"A little earlier this mornin'. They demanded to be fed, and y'all were sound asleep. I got up long enough to feed 'em and open the cat door." She admitted.

"Why didn't ya wake me to do that?" He grumbled.

"I tried. You mumbled somethin' about tryin' to sleep and turned over on your stomach."

"Shoulda tried harder, woman!" He growled, nuzzling her neck so that his facial hair tickled her.

"Beast!" She shrieked, edging as far away from his face as the chair allowed.

He pulled her back to his side and placed his chin on top of her head. His hands slipped inside the robe to fondle her breasts. "So when do ya plan on startin' the Stockton venture?"

"The sooner the better. I've agreed with Stockton to make the confections available on Mondays. That means I'll have to make the delivery on Sunday."

"Sunday? That's the only day your joint's closed! That's usually 'our' day!" Alex protested. He felt a twinge of guilt for making the protest, but forced himself to ignore it. He couldn't tell her what Jax had planned. No matter how much he hated keeping her in the dark.

Unaware of his internal battle with his conscience, Cat rubbed her cheek against his side. "It still can be our day, love. We can always make the Stockton run in the PT, then go runnin' around after," she assured him. "If it'll make y'all feel better, I can make the delivery run on Saturday, that would leave Sunday to us."

Alex grinned self-consciously at her. "You aren't gonna rub my nose in the fact that I missed a few of 'our' Sundays lately?"

"Nah," Cat shrugged. "Y'all just did it for me, love."

"You are so gonna pay for that, woman!" He growled.

"You, my love, are insatiable!" She laughed good naturedly.

"Can ya think of a better way to spend the time until ya meet with the staff?"

"If y'all give me a couple of seconds, I'm sure somethin' could come to mind!"

Alex didn't give her the time to consider any alternatives.

---

Salazar eyes moved from the two side view mirrors to the rear view and back again as he piloted the Camaro through the back streets and alleys. He was watching for patrol cars and a likely booster vehicle. The longer he stayed in the Camaro, the more conspicuous he felt, which made him more temperamental.

The stench coming from the back seat didn't help matters. Though he didn't show it, Luisa's body decomposing behind him bothered him a lot. 'This isn't what I intended for you, Chula! We should've been on our way to the shores of Mexico by now! Dammit!'

In the passenger seat beside him, Tara leaned as far out the window as she could for fresh air. Her stomach churned from the stench, and her eyes were heavy from a lack of sleep.

They'd been forced out of the crack house the minute the sun was up. Salazar's friend had only agreed to give them shelter for the night. That agreement ended with the sunrise. The tarp over the car had been a mistake, as they both found out when Salazar pulled it away from the car. A large cloud of gaseous odor rose out of the open windows. Flies buzzed around Luisa's body, shrouding it in a moving cloud of black. They had to stand away from the car until the noxious fumes dissipated enough that they could get in the car without throwing up.

"You've got to do something for her!" Tara exclaimed as they waited in the bright sunlight. "She's just going to continue to deteriorate!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Salazar snarled. "I should've never agreed to let your boss go! I have to get another car, then I can get Luisa someplace where she can be cared for!"

"Why don't we take her someplace before you trade cars?" Tara suggested.

"You'd like that, wouldn't ya, puta?" Salazar waved the gun in front of her face. "The cops are lookin' for this car! I can't take the chance of gettin' stopped while lookin' for a funeral parlor!" He paced back and forth in the yard, then halted in front of Tara and stated "No, we replace the car, then we find a place for Luisa!"

"Fine!" Tara replied. It wasn't really fine with her. The idea of riding around with a dead, decomposing body in the back seat was more horrifying to her than anything else she could think of. She considered making an attempt at an escape, but discarded the idea. She was too weak from lack of sleep and hunger to make an effective escape. There was also Salazar's increasing volatility.

'Best to continue to go along with him, until I have a better opportunity. Maybe a more populated area will work. This isn't the time or place to make such a move,' she told herself.

She'd climbed into the car when Salazar ordered her to do so, keeping as close to the door and the open window as possible.

Now he was trolling the area, looking for a vehicle to boost.

Finally, he spotted a single car parked idling in an alley near a hideout he kept close the 18 highway, close to the dumping ground. There was a lone woman in it, talking animatedly on her cell phone. She had the windows rolled down, so that Salazar and Tara could hear everything the woman was saying.

"I don't care what your excuse is!" The woman cried. "You're the one that wanted this meeting; I'm taking time away from my family to talk to you! I'm here and waiting, so get your ass down here right now!"

Tara wanted to cry out a warning to the woman, but Salazar brandished the gun at her before she could draw a breath. He parked the Camaro behind the house near the dump site, then crept up to the driver's door just as she finished her call.

"Get out of the car, puta!" He growled, holding the gun to the side of her head through the open window.

"What the Hell?" The woman cried, looking from Salazar to the gun and back to Salazar.

"I said, get the fuck outta the car! Now!" He yelled, removing the safety to let her know he wasn't kidding.

The woman slowly opened the door and stood up, holding her hands up in the traditional gesture of surrender. "You don't want to do this," she quietly advised.

"Oh, yes I do!" He replied, brandishing the gun to force her to move away from the car.

"No, you don't," she insisted, reaching slowly to her purse. "I'm not going for a weapon, but I do need to show you why this isn't a good idea."

Tara had gotten out of the Camaro, swallowing great gulps of fresh air and watching the drama unfold. 'It doesn't look like he's having much success,' she noted to herself.

The woman reached into her purse to withdraw a slim wallet.

"Oh, I plan to take your money, puta!" Hector laughed nastily.

"This might make you change your mind!" The woman exclaimed, opening the wallet to show her badge. "Officer Laurie Allen, Oaktown PD. If you back off now, I'm willing to overlook this."

Salazar looked at the badge, then at the woman, his face red with surprise and hate. He glanced back at the Camaro and Tara, then shoved the gun in front of the plain clothed officer's face.

Laurie glanced behind her, instantly recognizing the car from the ABP that had been passed out during roll call that morning. She also recognized Tara from the description of the kidnapping victim.

"I know who you are!" The officer stated, lowering her hands as she spoke.

Salazar's finger tightened on the trigger, but instead of shooting the officer, he pistol - whipped her with all his might. Tara screamed as the officer stared blankly at Salazar. Then the officers eyes rolled up in their sockets and she sank to the ground.

Tara ran forward to try to help the mortally wounded officer. Salazar turned the gun and her. "Don't move!" He screamed.

Tara stopped in mid stride, putting her hands up in a gesture of surrender. She gazed from Salazar to the fallen officer, whose body jerked spasmodically on the ground. Salazar struck her head several more times until blood pooled under her head, confirming to Tara that the wound was a bad one.

Salazar still held the gun in front of him, looking from the police officer to Tara and back again. He reached into the driver's side of the car to release the trunk latch.

The trunk slowly opened. "Come here!" He snarled to Tara.

"Wh - what?"

"The trunk! Get in! Now!" He waved the gun at her, pointing to the open trunk.

"You want me to get in there?" She squeaked.

"Now!" Salazar cried.

Tara slowly advanced to the back of the car. Everything inside her screamed at her to help the fallen officer. She felt as powerless as she had when Half - Sack had been killed. She slowly advanced towards Salazar, making sure not to make any surprise moves.

Salazar glanced into the front seat where the woman's purse lay. Sunlight illuminated the metallic handcuffs stuck in the top of the purse. Salazar grabbed them with one hand, keeping the gun trained on Tara with the other.

"What are you going to do with those?" Tara squeaked.

"What do you think I'm goin' to do with 'em, puta?" He snarled, indicating she should hold her arms out in front of her.

Tara's eyes grew wide as Salazar snapped the cuffs closed around her wrists. He tied a handkerchief he found in the car around her mouth as a gag, then pushed her into the trunk.

Salazar slammed the trunk lid closed, glanced at the dying body of the cop, then rushed to the Camaro. He intended to transfer Luisa's body to the new car and take her somewhere.

He gagged as he crept into the back of the Camaro. Luisa's body was bloated and pale, and gave off a noxious stink. He lifted her body into his arms and carried her from the car, only to drop her body a few feet from the replacement car. Luisa's body fell face down with a squishy sound. Fluids seeped into the ground under her.

Salazar cried out in anguish, beating his hands futilely against the trunk of the car. He couldn't believe what had happened. 'There's no way I can carry her anywhere now! I have to leave her behind!'

The officer's body gave one last spasm and stilled. A last breath escaped her lips. Salazar didn't even pay attention. He raced to the Camaro and removed a blanket from the trunk, which he brought back to the replacement car.

He grabbed the officer's body by the arms and pulled her to the side of the road next to Luisa's body. Then he covered both with the blanket. The tops of their heads and Luisa's outstretched arms remained exposed. There was nothing else he could do. He knew the officer's co - workers would come looking for her when she didn't check in. He had to leave.

He beat on the trunk again to release his pent-up frustrations. 'This wasn't supposed to happen! She was supposed to turn over her car and purse, and we'd be gone! No, I had to pick a fuckin' cop! Shit!"

Inside the dark trunk, Tara could hear her captor's muted tirade. The only saving grace was that she wasn't on the receiving end of his ire. 'Forgive me,' she cried silently to the fallen policewoman. She felt and heard the car start and pull smoothly away from the scene.

Behind the departing vehicle, two bodies lay under a tarp. Flies buzzed around the badly decomposing body. The other body wouldn't begin to decompose for awhile. Both bore silent testament to the volatility of the situation Tara was in.

---

Alex leaned against the door frame separating the customer lounge from the back of the coffeehouse. He was keeping an eye on the two regular readers while Cat met with her employees.

She'd called Miss Anna and Adrian and asked them to come in early for a quick meeting. Both had agreed, so the four employees were in the break room with her. Alex had agreed to call out to them if the readers required a refill or any new customers came in.

"So there all y'all have it," Cat concluded her explanation of the new commission. "We are now going to furnish baked goods to Stockton Penitentiary effect next week. Does anyone have any problem with our doing the additional baking on our usual baking day?"

The group looked around at each other, then turned their attention back to their employer. They'd already discussed how the packaging would work, so there were no surprises to them about that aspect of the work. Her staff assured her that adding more items to the baking wasn't going to be a problem.

"I took the liberty of drawing up labels for the baked goods going to Stockton, Miss Cat," Adrian piped up. "I thought that the inmates should know where these treats come from!" He passed his sketchbook to her, already opened to the label he'd created.

He'd incorporated the 'Charming Pawse' logo and lettering for the various baked items onto a small label. The label background was white with the familiar black lettering. "I spoke with the print shop at school, they can print 'em with an adhesive backing for us. Once the template is made, they can reprint as many as we need and we only have to pay for material."

"These are excellent, and a lot better than I could try to do on the computer!" Cat exclaimed. "How much lead time do they need?"

Adrian squirmed uncomfortably. "I - uh - I took the liberty of placing the order, Miss Cat. If you didn't like 'em, I'd have just been out of pocket."

"Like Hell!" Cat exclaimed. "All y'all should know better than that by now!" She glared around the break room at her crew and added, "But I don't want any of you goin' out on a limb like that without consultin' me first. You got dat?"

"Yes ma'am!" The quartet chorused.

Alex stifled a grin at her 'Victor Newman' growl. 'Sounds like somebody stepped on her tail,' he observed. He eavesdropped unashamedly, as the break room door was wide open and their voices carried to his position.

"I'm goin' to work up a spreadsheet for trackin' the inventory we have at Stockton and what we're replacin' each week," Cat continued in a gentler tone of voice. "We can't expect Stockton to track that for us."

"How are we going to know what needs restocking and how much of which items sold each week?" CJ inquired.

'That's a good question, baby,' Alex thought. He couldn't wait to hear how she planned to address that issue.

"We're goin' to be pretty busy on bakin' day, as I want to deliver 100 pieces of each item to Stockton by next Monday," she announced.

"Wow!" Pete whistled. "That's a lot of inventory!"

"I thought all y'all weren't bothered by the workload," Cat replied dryly.

"We're not, Miss Cat, but why are you wanting so much to start with?" Pete explained.

"I don't expect a lot of sales of our product during the first couple of weeks. That way, we won't have to keep workin' up Stockton inventory every week. By the time the word gets out about our product, I expect that it'll move pretty quick," she replied.

By having a well stocked inventory already on hand, Cat reasoned the commissary would have more than enough product to meet the anticipated increased demand. As orders for their product grew, the coffeehouse would routinely add to the inventory on hand at the prison during each baking day.

"The plan is to never have an inmate get an unfilled order due to the commissary havin' to wait for an item. A vendor is only as good as their reputation. If we develop a rep for always havin' items in stock, we'll make better profit," she added.

"So we start with 100 each of all our confection inventory and each week just replace however much of each item has been sold?" Miss Anna observed.

"That's the idea. It's the best I can come up with, but if any of y'all have a better idea, I'm open to suggestions."

"Then we'd better start the baking before we open on Saturday," Pete observed. "It'll make the day a little hectic, but it's nothing we can't handle."

"I suggest that ya wrap this up and get your ass back to the house," Alex growled from the doorway. "You can always work on the spreadsheet there."

"I thought y'all were keepin' an eye on the front area!" Cat snorted.

"I am, just came in to add my two cents' worth!" He grinned.

Cat rolled her eyes. "I won't say it!"

"Good. I'd hate to make ya pay for it in front of your employees!"

"You can always email us the spreadsheet and we can look it over," Pete offered.

"Whose side are you on, youngster?" Cat howled.

"We men always stick together against the women!" Alex reported, winking at the three male employees. "That means you're outvoted four to two."

"Don't recall this bein' a democracy!" Cat sputtered, though her eyes behind the tinted insert were twinkling with amusement.

"Honestly, Miss Cat, we can handle things for you here, and another day of rest isn't going to kill you," Miss Anna stated.

"Et tu, Brutus?" Cat moaned. "Fine! I know when I'm not wanted!"

"About damn time, woman!" Alex grunted. "C'mon! Let's get you home."

"I am perfectly capable of gettin' home under my own steam, love," she retorted.

"I know. I'm just gonna make sure ya get there!"

"All right! All right!" She grinned, rising from her chair. "All y'all know how to reach me if you need me."

---

Miles and Phil rubbed their gritty, sleep deprived eyes. The sun was rising as they finished cleaning up the new play area. Not only was there a fenced safety area for toddlers, there was a jungle gym/swing set for older children to enjoy while they waited with their parents for repairs to be completed.

They'd hammered, sawed, sanded and painted all night to build the area and the fencing. All the sharp wooden corners were sanded smooth and rubber covers were placed on exposed nuts so no one would be injured.

The last thing the prospects had to do was to lay the new grass for the play area. They were hot and sweaty from their night's exertions, but were pleased with the work they'd done.

"Jax will be surprised to see this, even though it might be awhile before Abel's going to be able to use it!" Miles observed.

"I just don't get all the sudden urgency to get this thing done tonight," Phil yawned.

"Piney explained it to me while you were drivin' Miss Cat," Miles grinned. "There's always been a plan to have a kid's play area. It became more obvious that one was needed durin' the recent lock down. He decided it'd be a nice thing to do as a 'welcome home' for the club."

Phil remembered just how whiny and bored some of the children became during the lock down. They were cooped up inside the clubhouse much of the time, and got bored from watching all the kid friendly videos. Even the ones with their own laptops got bored!

"Yeah, I can see where havin' a safe place to play would've come in handy," he affirmed tiredly. "I dunno about you, but I'm about to fall asleep standin' up!"

"Ditto," Miles yawned.

The pair trudged to the dorm area and successfully found unclaimed beds to crash in. They were asleep the minute their heads hit the pillows.

---

Alex lit a cigarette the minute he and Cat stepped out the back door of the coffeehouse. He drew a long draught of smoke into his lungs as she unlocked the gate to their back yard.

"Hey! Would y'all like to do some 'push hands' with me?" Cat asked excitedly. "It's been awhile since we've done any 'tai chi'!"

"I know it's not high impact exercise, baby, but it's just too fuckin' soon for ya to do that kind of shit!" Alex protested.

"But it would help me be more flexible!"

"Ain't nothin' wrong with your flexibility!" He leered good naturedly.

"Naturally you'd think so!" She huffed. "But I still have a problem with bein' stiff and sore in places."

"Well, I'd rather ya waited another day or two. This is the first time I've seen ya with some color on ya that wasn't black and blue!"

Cat sighed in resignation. "All right, then. I'll just go inside and start workin' on the spreadsheet."

"Damn, woman! I'm not runnin' off to the clubhouse and you wanna work on some fuckin' spreadsheet? What's wrong with ya?"

"What's wrong with y'all?" She countered. "Honestly, love, y'all are bein' downright clingy lately! That's not like you!"

Alex settled into 'his' lawn chair and reached out to force her to sit on his lap. He took a deep inhale of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke above her head before replying. "This married shit is still kinda new to me, baby. It wasn't so long ago that ya were injured and could've died on me! So pardon the fuck outta me for bein' a little concerned about ya!"

Cat winced at the hurt tone in his voice. She placed her hands on either side of his face and leaned forward so that her forehead touched his. "It's nice that y'all are concerned, love. But you're treatin' me like some kind of fragile china doll one minute, and then actin' like a wild animal in bed the next! It's confusin' me!"

"I'm just tryin' to take care of ya, woman!" He sighed.

"I know y'all are, love, and sometimes I don't make it very easy for you. I'm just not very good at puttin' up with hoverin' husbands. It's not like I'm gonna break!"

He lifted his eyebrows and glanced accusingly at the cast on her arm. "Yeah, right," he growled.

"Love, if Bill were here, he'd tell y'all I was just as ornery with him when I was hurt or sick."

"Well, I'm just as glad he's not here to tell me that, though it helps to know it," Alex replied grimly. "Just humor me awhile, OK?"

She rested her head against his shoulder and nuzzled his neck. "I'll try, love."

"I just don't want ya to be in such a fuckin' hurry to get back to business as usual," he added. "This is one of the few times I don't have to run off. Is it so much to ask to have a little private time with ya?"

She smiled and replied, "When y'all put it in such a lovin' manner, how can a girl say 'no'?"

"Ya can't, so don't even try!" He retorted. He wrapped his arms around her so she couldn't escape him. From the way she relaxed against him, Alex had a feeling that escape was the furthest thing from her mind.

---

Marcus Alvarez was in a foul mood. He didn't like being away overnight from his wife and child, and avoided it if he could help it. As much of a stone cold, bad ass club leader that he appeared to be, he was also a family man. If playing dead for a day hadn't been so important, he'd never had agreed to it.

There's been no difficulty staging the 'accident' that would claim his life. Alvarez, along with his VP, had taken off for what was widely spread as a joyride in the mountains. The Mayans' SAA had followed them at a discreet distance in his pick up truck. The truck was his personal vehicle, and he was in civilian garb.

In a part of the road that was filled with blind, hairpin curves, Alvarez pulled off the best bit of stunt riding he'd performed in a long time. He pulled ahead of the VP at top speed, then applied the brakes in order to leave a long skid mark on the pavement. He steered the bike directly for the other side of the road. There was no guardrail to protect drivers from the sheer drop a few feet from the pavement.

Just before his motorcycle plunged over the side, Alvarez leaped from the bike, rolling over several times until the centrifugal force controlling him was expelled. His helmet and thick riding leathers prevented him from getting a severe road rash. The helmet was badly scratched and the heavy jacket severely scraped.

The riderless bike plunged over the incline. It turned end over end as bits of metal flew away from the impact with the ground. The motor eventually died, but the fuel line was cut, sending gasoline shooting from the engine. The smell of gas permeated the air, followed by the crash of metal hitting a large stone. Sparks from the metal ignited the spewing gasoline and the ruined bike burst into flames.

The VP had stopped his bike and ran back to assist Alvarez. The Mayans Prez managed to stand up on his own and was in the process of removing his gloves when the VP ran up to him. Alvarez was shaking and gratefully accepted his VP's assistance in removing the jacket and his gloves. Alvarez managed to unstrap his helmet and handed it to the VP, who tossed the gear down the ravine to the burning hulk.

Under Alvarez approving eye, the VP allowed one of the gloves to fall halfway between the road and the point of impact, as if it had fallen off Alvarez' hand during the wreck. The helmet landed right inside the fire, along with the jacket.

The Mayans SAA had stopped his pick up and joined the pair, watching silently as the fire consumed the motorcycle and gear. He had a can of gasoline handy, in case the fire needed refueling. The severed fuel line was doing the job for him, making the gasoline unnecessary.

"You know what to do," Alvarez stated to his VP.

"Si. When I get cell service, I call the policia, then meet them back here to help with the search," the VP nodded. "We won't find your body, but the burned clothing and bike should be enough to make them rule the accident a fatality when your body goes un found."

"You have the new burner number?" Alvarez inquired.

"Si."

Alvarez nodded and tossed his current pre paid cell into the fire. He had deliberately scuffed and battered the burner against the ground before the ride. The melted cell phone would lend further proof to the possibility that he'd burned to death.

When Alvarez had shared the plan with his club, his SAA had wanted to obtain a body similar in height and weight to Alvarez'. "It'll make your death that much more realistic to the policia!"

"It's a good idea, amigo, but it won't work in the long run."

"Que?"

Alvarez smiled grimly. "My body will certainly not be charred when I return from the dead!"

"Shit!" The SAA moaned. "I didn't think of that!"

"We can sell the potential fatality with the burned riding gear and phone. I'll burn myself to make the cover story more believable," Alvarez assured his club.

"What we should do is track down that puta rouge, Salazar, and silence him for good!" The Mayans' secretary snarled. "He's more of a liability and a danger to us!"

"Si!" Another patched member snarled. "If SAMCRO doesn't come through with the money, what's to stop Salazar from ratting us out to the Federales?"

Murmurs of agreement echoed through the patched members in the church. Alvarez shared their opinion, but he was bound and determined to keep his word. "I agree that Salazar is a problem. We cannot do anything to him until the SAMCRO VP's old lady is safe," he asserted. "Once she is out of harm's way, we will deal with him!"

His club continued to grumble. They didn't agree that he should 'play dead' for a day. Despite the very tenuous agreement between the Mayans and SAMCRO, memories were hard to erase and some ill will for the Charming crew ran deep with some of the Mayans. As far as they were concerned, Salazar was already dead to them. He'd been given a bad out and was on their radar.

"Silencio!" Alvarez roared. "I gave my word to help secure the safe return of Jax Teller's woman. We can not endanger the woman Salazar kidnapped for the next 24 hours!"

He glared at each member of his club, silently commanding their compliance. One by one, his brothers nodded silent - if not somewhat reluctant - agreement to his statement.

Alvarez nodded then grinned ferally. "Once the 24 hours is up, Salazar will be fair game, comprende?"

"Si!" The club chorused in one mighty roar.

The VP, SAA, and Alvarez stood at the top of the steep incline, silently watching the fire consume the motorcycle for a few more minutes. Then Alvarez turned and walked to the pick up truck, climbing into the passenger seat. The SAA slid behind the steering wheel, started the truck, and pulled away, followed by the VP.

Once the vehicles reached the town limits, the VP pulled off the road to make his call. The pick up carrying Alvarez and his SAA continued traveling another half hour until they found a small roadside motel. Alvarez booked a room under one of his aliases. He paid cash for the room, requesting one as far from the road as possible.

"I'm a light sleeper; the traffic keeps me awake," Alvarez explained to the bored manager.

"Whatever," the manager shrugged, passing a key on a plastic keyring to him.

The SAA purchased food and drink for Alvarez, delivered it, then left. He would take a circuitous route back to Oaktown, so that he wouldn't pass the scene of Alvarez' 'accident'.

Marcus had his duffel bag with him. He'd packed some medical supplies, and set about creating the burns to his face and hands that would support his cover story. He grit his teeth as he held the lighter to his forehead and cheeks, then used his knife to create scrapes to what would've been his exposed flesh.

He cleaned the wounds, dressed them, and changed clothes, then channel surfed for the few cable channels the motel boasted. There was nothing of interest, so he pulled out a book and spent a few hours indulging his reading passion, stopping only to eat and check the local late night news. There was a brief story about the wreck that supposedly claimed his life.

"My VP should get an award for that performance!" Alvarez laughed grimly. "I can only hope my Chula is holding up well."

He contemplated calling her, but waited until the morning. She would be mentally and emotionally exhausted from dealing with the condolences of friends and family. He decided to wait until morning to call her.

He slept poorly that night, tossing and turning in the bed. He missed his wife's presence. There was nothing but the cool night air to console him. He imagined his wife and child missing him and his heart ached for them.

He had a headache when he woke up, and his self-inflicted injuries aggravated him. None of that did much for his temper, but he called his wife anyway to wish her a good morning. Hearing her voice did a lot to raise his spirits, until she shared distressing news with him.

"The other woman Salazar kidnapped turned up alone but unharmed last night," she reported. "She said the doctor had agreed to stay with him if Salazar let her friend go."

"Did she say why Teller's old lady did such a foolish thing?" Alvarez groaned.

"Si, Chula. Teller's old lady caught Luisa off guard and slashed her throat while Salazar was at the drop. Apparently she is a doctor and offered to help save Luisa's life as she was cut in the artery."

"So now the policia are looking for him," Alvarez observed dryly.

"Si," she replied. 'I have a feeling this conversation is going to come to an abrupt end.'

"I've got to go, Chula," Alvarez stated reluctantly. "Kiss the baby for me, and I'll see you soon."

"I know you do," she replied, not bothering to hide her obvious disappointment. "I understand. I love you."

"Love you too," he ended the call then dialed his VP's number.

"You heard?" The VP inquired the minute he answered the phone.

"Si. Teller's old lady is still a captive," Alvarez affirmed.

"That's not all. The Federales staked out the drop and fucked up the whole thing. Salazar got away without the money."

"Shit! If the Federales catch him, he'll squeal like the pig he is!"

"Si. The members wanted to go after him. I reminded them of their agreement to wait for you to come back. It wasn't easy, amigo."

"Gracias," Alvarez replied. "Did anyone reach out to the Calavarez?"

"Si," the VP confirmed. "They claim Salazar hasn't contacted them. After what happened at the rally, I doubt the club will help him if he does!"

"If they know what's good for them, they'll call us the minute he does reach out," Alvarez growled. "The Calvarez won't deal with him because they fear what we'll do to them. If he has the doctor and Luisa with him, he probably has her car."

"The policia put out an APB on the car."

Alvarez rubbed his nose with his free hand. "Remind the members again not to move against Salazar until my return. If they see him, do not acknowledge him. Follow at a distance but do not engage!"

Alvarez ended the call with his VP and paced the room a few times. The 24 hours wasn't yet up, but circumstances had changed significantly. He would need to reach out to SAMCRO about the situation before he 'resurrected.'

---

Margaret lay in the bed she shared with David, listening to the sounds of her home in the morning. The children were getting ready for school and David for work. 'I should get up and start getting ready, too. It just feels good to luxuriate for a moment!'

David had tried the night before to talk her into calling off work, but he'd not met with much success. That conversation had come long after she'd returned home and relaxed in a hot bubble bath. The wine David had brought to her had helped soothe her frazzled nerves, as had the welcome and love from her family. It hadn't done much to ease her worry about Tara and what the doctor was going through at Salazar's hands.

'I can't worry about that right now,' she told herself. 'If I think about it, it'll just drive me nuts. My family needs me to focus on them. Hell, I need to focus on them awhile!'

She stayed in the tub until the water grew cool, then she dried off and dressed in a gown and fluffy robe. She exited the master suite to find the dining room table set with their finest china and dinner ready and waiting for her.

"It looks like a celebration!" She exclaimed.

"It is, Mommy!" The youngest child replied. "We're celebrating your safe return!"

"Yes, I guess we are," Margaret smiled, turning her gaze on her oldest child and her husband. The sight caused her eyes to blur with tears of gratitude that she'd survived to see them all again.

The usual family chatter about school and extra curricular activities were the only topics discussed at the table. 'I suppose David told the kids not to bug me about the kidnapping during dinner. They're bound to have questions; I just hope I can answer them without giving the children nightmares!'

After dinner ended, the family gathered in the television room, but for once, the unit remained off. Instead, Margaret's children begged her to tell them what had happened to her.

"Another car tapped my back bumper at an intersection. When I got out to check the car for damage, the driver and her passenger pulled out guns and took me and my friend away," she answered calmly.

"Were you scared, Mommy?" The youngest asked.

"Yes, I was often scared of my captors. They were very mean. But most of the time my worse fear was that I might not be able to come home to you at all."

"Where did they take you?" The oldest child inquired.

"A house in a subdivision. The house was nearly empty, but they kept my friend and I in the attic. It was dimly lit, and very stuffy. They fed us sparingly, so dinner tonight was very welcome!"

"How did you get away?" The oldest persisted.

"The lady who was kidnapped with me was very brave. She managed to hurt one of the captors, the female one. We were making our escape when the man returned. She talked him into letting me go and he did," Margaret explained, glossing over some of the more horrendous points.

The children's questions quickly tired her. David could tell she was growing fatigued and intervened by telling the kids it was time to get ready for bed.

"Aw, Daddy! Mommy's home! We still have so much catching up to do!" They protested.

"We'll have plenty of time to catch up tomorrow. Which is also a school day," she replied.

"Do we have to go to school? Can't we stay home with you?"

"Your mother will need some quiet so she can rest," David replied hurriedly. "The best way she can do that is if you get plenty of sleep tonight and go to school tomorrow."

"You two go ahead, and I'll be in to tuck you in shortly," Margaret added.

The children reluctantly headed off to prepare for bed. David and Margaret cleaned up the kitchen and prepared lunches for the next day in a companionable silence.

Once the children had completed their baths, the couple listened to their prayers and tucked the children into their beds. They gave each child a hug and kiss goodnight, with Margaret promising she would be there in the morning for breakfast just like before.

Once they reached their bedroom, David sat down on the bed beside his wife to talk about her ordeal. Before they spoke a single word, he held her in a tight embrace.

"I've been wanting to do that since you got home!" He sighed. "I was afraid I'd never do that again!"

"The feeling is mutual, but I'm home and safe," she replied.

"Who was the guy and girl that took you?"

"His name is Hector Salazar. He was once leader of a motorcycle club in Lodi. Dr. Tara Knowles was his intended victim; I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time," Margaret explained.

"What did she do to warrant this guy to come after her?"

"It's complicated," she replied evasively.

"Explain it to me anyway. I'm a pretty smart guy!" He retorted.

"Yes, you are. That's one of your many good qualities," she smiled.

David gazed intently at her. He appreciated the compliment, but he wasn't satisfied with her evasions.

"Tara has been dating the Vice President of the Sons of Anarchy," Margaret explained after a long pause. "Mr. Salazar had a difference of opinion with the Sons and somehow lost his own club affiliation. He held The Sons Vice President responsible for that and decided to take it out on Tara."

"That's who you were taking for that procedure!" He exclaimed.

"Which we obviously never got to," Margaret observed wryly.

David stood up and began pacing the bedroom. "I don't understand it! You've heard all the stories about people being rear ended in a robbery attempt! All those reports end with suggestions to go to a well lighted place to exchange info! Why did you get out of the car and let them take you!"

Margaret glared at him in momentarily shock and anger. "Are you saying this was my fault? I didn't wave a sign around inviting them to take us at gunpoint!"

"Then you shouldn't have gotten out of the car! My God, Margaret, you could've been killed! What were you thinking?" David ranted.

Margaret realized that he had worried about her for two straight days and was letting off steam, but it still hurt. Tears welled in her eyes at the unprovoked attack. "I was thinking that you'd be upset if the car was damaged!" She cried. "So I got out of the car to check it. The driver was Salazar's girlfriend. She seemed all apologetic, and then when Tara got out of the car, she and Salazar pulled guns on us!"

David stopped pacing at the hurt in her voice. His anger wilted in the face of her tears. He rushed back to her and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry, darling!" He exclaimed. "I don't know what made me say that!"

Margaret laid her head on his shoulder. "You're upset. It's a normal reaction to stress," she sobbed. "You're not saying anything I didn't ask myself!"

David ran his hands along her back in a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry, Margaret. You must've gone through Hell. The last thing you need is for me to act like a spoiled brat!"

Margaret smiled ruefully. "True, but you wouldn't be you if you didn't huff and puff a little bit."

"Did he hurt you?"

"Not physically. He scared me a lot. Tara was the one who got the brunt of their physical abuse. That might be why she slashed the girlfriend's throat. That's why Tara stayed behind. She offered to help save the girlfriend's life in exchange for my freedom."

"Maybe you should take tomorrow off, rest up and all," David suggested. "I'm sure the hospital won't mind."

Margaret considered the possibility, then shook her head. "I've already lost two days, and really can't afford to take a day off. The work can really pile up in a situation like this. If I stay home, I'll just bounce off the walls. I can take some time at the hospital to talk to the Chief Psychologist about what happened. That would be more difficult to arrange from here."

"I suppose you're right," David replied. "I suppose I should go back to work tomorrow. There'll be a pile of backed up stuff waiting for me!"

"It's the best thing for both of us, darling," Margaret assured him through a yawn. She stood up and pulled the covers down on the bed, then removed her robe and tossed it on the chair.

"Are you coming to bed?" She asked sleepily as she slid under the covers.

"In a little bit," he assured her. He drew the covers over her and tucked her in. "Sleep well, Margaret," he whispered. He gave her a good night kiss, then held her close to him. "I'm sorry for going off on you."

"It's all right. I'm sorry to have caused you so much worry," she replied.

"Get some rest." He replied before rising and turning off her bedside lamp.

"Good night."

David had gone into the bathroom and shut the door. He turned on the exhaust fan and stripped out of his clothes. He stood in the shower and sobbed tears of hurt and pain over what he'd said to his wife. He felt helpless and frustrated that she'd endured such an event. He knew that Margaret was very strong-willed, but even a rock can wear after being repeatedly struck by water! He feared she would eventually show some strain from her ordeal.

'Maybe she's right about going back to work tomorrow. It's normal routine for us, and the sooner we return to normal, the better things will be for us and the kids,' he assured himself. 'I just feel so helpless that I couldn't protect her from this!"

Despite her fatigue and the masking sounds of the fan and running water, Margaret could hear David crying. She knew he felt that he'd let her down by his reaction, and that he felt like a failure as a husband for not protecting her.

She willed herself to remain awake until he finally got out of the bathroom. Once he was in bed beside her, she turned so that she could snuggle in his arms. "None of this was your fault," she whispered to him reassuringly. "There was nothing you could have done to prevent it from happening, and you reacted the way you did to relieve all the built up pressure."

"That doesn't excuse what I said to you!" He protested.

"You had to keep things on an even keel here. You had to tell the children and keep them from being scared. That was a pretty tough job, and you did it wonderfully!" She replied. "I love you more for that. Not many men could've done that."

David eventually relaxed and accepted her words of love and forgiveness. They fell asleep in each others' arms. The next morning, he was up ahead of her to get the children ready for school. He'd shut off the alarm so she could get some extra sleep.

She decided to get up and face the day. She dressed for work and walked into the kitchen to say good morning to her family.

---

Cat rested against Alex's chest. Her head lay on his shoulder so he could smoke. She enjoyed feeling safe and secure in his embrace, and even enjoyed feeling the hardness of his erection against her bottom. "Y'all really should put a leash on that beast of yours, love," she teased.

"Just think of it as a sign of my affection for ya, baby!" He leered in reply, exhaling the last of the smoke from his cigarette.

"Doesn't it get painful to be in arousal so often?" She innocently inquired.

"How can a woman get to be your age and still not know about this kind of shit?" He laughed.

She stiffened in his embrace and raised her head so she could glare at him from the corner of her eye. "Not every man in my life has been a sex fiend!" She growled. "Excuse the Hell out of me for carin' about your well bein'!"

Alex's arms tightened around her. He refused to allow her to walk off in a huff no matter how much she struggled to get loose. "C'mon, baby! Don't be so fuckin' sensitive! I was just teasin' ya!"

She sniffed in disdain, pretending to be miffed, but he nuzzled the back and side of her neck until she gave in and relaxed against him again. "It's an honest question, for cryin' out loud," she pouted.

"Didn't ya talk to Bill or your other lovers around sex?" He asked incredulously.

"'Brownie' always made fun of me for my ignorance, and after Bill laughed at me for askin' what possible sexual connotation there was to 'beans and sausage', I gave up askin' dumb questions," she explained. "I couldn't help comparin' to havin' a constant hard - on to how uncomfortable I get when my nipples get hard from bein' cold!"

Alex chuckled again and laid his chin on top of her head. He felt that warmth surge through him whenever she expressed concern for him like she was doing. It was still a wonder to him that a woman could put concern for his well-being ahead of their own. "Sometimes it can be a bit painful, baby," he acknowledged. "Most of the time it's just there and you know it's there and ya deal with it. Course, a hard on doesn't always mean you're lookin' to get off."

"But it usually leads to that," she noted dryly.

"Well, sure. It's more fun to have a willin' pussy than engagin' in self-service!"

Cat snorted again, but this time to disguise a chuckle of her own. "Y'all have a point, there, love!"

"So do you, baby! Two of 'em, right here!" He grinned, moving both hands up to grope her breasts over her shirt.

Their by - play was interrupted by the pre pay going off in his pocket. Cat squirmed out of his embrace in order to stand up.

"What the Hell are ya doin'?" He complained.

"Gettin' up so y'all can answer the phone," she replied. She knew the call was related to club business, so she started towards the back door.

Alex sighed and dug the burner out of his pocket, using his free hand to snare her good hand in his and pulling her back beside him. "Stay put, baby. Whatever it is, I'm not done with ya yet."

Cat settled back on his lap as he flipped open the burner and growled, "Trager."

"Alvarez," the Mayan Prez's voice rumbled in his ear. His voice carried over to Cat's ears. "I heard the Federales fucked up the money drop and Salazar still has Teller's old lady."

Tig's voice was full of sarcasm as he winced and replied, "Good news travels fast."

"Si, compadre. Wanted to warn you that I'm getting ready to come back from the dead a little early."

"Been expectin' it," Tig sighed.

"My club is concerned that Salazar will rat us out about the 'H' traffic now that the policia are looking for him."

"No surprise there," Tig acknowledged. "Are they lookin' for him?"

"Not yet, my crew has orders not to engage him if they see him while your VP's old lady remains his hostage, but if the policia get him first, I'll have to use one of my inside contacts to silence him."

"I understand. Any chance he's reached out to the Calavarez?" Tig inquired.

"Nada. They wouldn't dare help him. They do not wish to face the ire of my club."

"A'right. How long until you're back in the area?"

"A few hours," Alvarez replied.

"Club's returnin' later. Clay might want a meet."

"A'right. You know how to reach me," Alvarez clicked off the call, leaving Tig to close the burner and rub the bridge of his nose with his hand.

"That didn't sound good, love," Cat observed quietly.

"Alvarez is comin' back from the dead a little earlier than planned. If Salazar gets wind of it, things could turn rocky for Tara."

"Oye vay!" She winced.

"You said it, baby." Alex replied.

"Then y'all need to find Salazar before the cops or the Mayans. The Mayans might consider the loss of one civilian collateral damage in comparison to the greater good."

"That's my thinkin', baby," Alex observed, pleased with his woman's ability to see straight to the point.

"Then y'all have your work cut out for ya, and that means you're gonna have to get goin'," she added, scrambling up from his lap.

"This wasn't how I planned to spend the 'down time' before the club got back, baby," he explained gruffly.

"I know, but in your business, there's never really such a thing as 'down time'," she sighed.

Alex stood up and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close to him. Cat put her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest for a moment. "I'll make it up to ya, baby," he swore.

"All I ask is that y'all come home in one piece!"

He put his hand under her chin, forcing her to lift her head to meet his intense, smouldering gaze. "When I get home, I'm expectin' to get a piece!" He growled before kissing her soundly.

---

Darkness surrounded Tara. There was no light in the trunk, except the occasional red flare when the brake lights were applied.

She could hear Salazar mutter to himself from the car's interior, sometimes in English, most of the time in Spanish. He grew increasingly irate with each passing minute. She expected him to fire the gun at any time.

'I thought he'd calm down once he was in a different car!' She thought wryly. 'He's worse than ever!'

She'd been afraid for her life when Salazar killed the plain clothed policewoman, convinced that he'd crossed the line into insanity. 'Maybe it's wrong to feel this way, but I'm really grateful he dropped Luisa's body! I was afraid I'd have to share the trunk with her!'

She knew Salazar was upset from the way he sped from the scene of his latest crime. She lay as still as she could in the trunk, though she couldn't keep from being tossed about by the centrifugal force of the car's turns and sudden stops.

Tara did make one escape attempt during one stop where she didn't hear Salazar muttering to himself and the car was stationary. She squirmed around so that her feet were against the seat back and her shoulders against the back of the trunk. Despite pushing with all her strength, the seat didn't budge.

Then she tried to work the tail lights loose in hopes of being able to call out to any pedestrians or even get a police officer's attention. 'They're always stopping someone to give a warning for a tail light being out!' This time it was her lack of tools that prevented her escape. She didn't have anything to use to pry the tail lights out, and they wouldn't 'pop' out when she pushed against them with her hands.

Frustrated, she lay panting and sweating in the trunk, cursing herself and her situation. 'Margaret was right! I shouldn't have offered to try to save that woman's life!' She heard noise from the side of the car, then smelled gasoline. She realized then they were stopped at a gas station and that Salazar was adding fuel to the gas tank. Then she felt the car move as Salazar climbed behind the steering wheel and she heard the car door slam. She heard him mutter to himself in Spanish, and then heard the sound of a police radio.

'Sounds like he found the police woman's carry radio,' she observed grimly. 'Now he's going to know what they're doing when they're doing it, and that's not good!'

She heard the car engine start, then felt the car begin to move. So far, there had only been the broadcasts about Luisa's Camaro along with descriptions of her and Salazar, nothing about the cop he'd killed or the car he'd taken.

'I wonder where he intends to go?' Tara wondered.

The first thing Salazar noticed as he pulled away from the two bodies on the ground was that the gas gauge of the Lexus was below quarter full. He'd been wondering how a cop could afford a luxury car until he started rummaging in the cop's purse and found her wallet.

"Muy bueno!" He cried ecstatically. He held the wallet in one hand and thumbed through it with the other, using his arm to steer the car. "Mucho dinero! Gracias, Dios!" He grinned at the discovery of several hundred-dollar bills in the wallet.

'A dirty cop! My luck is getting better!' He laughed. 'There's only one criminal hombre in this area able to pay this kind of dinero!' He shrugged the thought aside as if it were a bothersome fly at a picnic. 'It doesn't matter if she was one of Pope's dirty cops! I'll be beyond his reach by nightfall!'

There was more than enough cash for a full tank of gas and some food and drink for himself. 'Of course I could steal gas, but that would tip off the policia too soon,' he thought. 'Best to play it cool and pay for it this time! Soon I'll have plenty of money!'

He pulled into a gas station and stopped at a pump. He went inside to prepay for his gas and to make his purchases. While inside the gas station, he made a couple of calls from the payphone before returning to the car to fuel up.

When the fuel pump shut off, he replaced the gas cap, returned to the car's interior, and turned on the police radio. Then he started the car and pulled away from the gas station.

He listened intently to the broadcasts, then settled back against the seat, grinning with his success. So far, no one had checked in on the police officer, so the locals were still looking for Luisa's car.

'The policia will have to look real close to make me out from any other conductor de vehiculo!' He assured himself. He piloted the car on out-of-town towards Charming.

---

"You were out late last night," Stahl observed quietly from the kitchen table as Tyler entered and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah," she acknowledged, leaning against the counter to watch Stahl over her coffee cup.

"You didn't sleep in our bed, either," June persisted.

"I slept in the spare room," Tyler admitted. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"Are you acting like this because of the dressing down I gave you yesterday?"

Tyler shook her head. "No. I just wasn't feeling good and didn't want you to get sick," she stated flatly.

"I'll bring you up to speed on the Tara Knowles situation," Stahl offered brightly. She was behaving like a puppy eager to please in an attempt to get back into her lover's good graces. "It turns out that Tara secured Margaret Murphy's release yesterday."

"Really?" Tyler pretended to be interested. She was actually closely monitoring Stahl's mannerisms and speech for any sign of deviousness.

Stahl nodded. "She got the drop on Salazar's girlfriend, cut her up pretty bad. The girlfriend had remained with the captives while Salazar was at the drop."

"So how did Tara get Ms. Murphy released?"

"She agreed to stay with Salazar to save the girlfriend's life, but he had to release Margaret. Her car was stopped a few blocks from the house she'd been held in by SJSD."

"I take it the house was searched?"

Stahl nodded. "No clues. It's owned by a family member. We can't find her, and can't find Salazar."

"I suppose Margaret gave a much more detailed description of his vehicle!" Tyler snarled sarcastically.

Stahl winced. "Guess I deserved that. She had a plate number. The car is registered to Salazar's girlfriend. None of the agencies on the case, including our department, has located the car yet," she added softly.

"I appreciate knowing that the women weren't killed from the failed drop," Tyler stated coldly. "I'd better get going."

"Want me to ride along?"

Tyler glanced over her shoulder at Stahl. "No. You need to take your own car. I might not come home tonight, June. I think we need some time apart." She grabbed her purse and keys and headed for the door without giving her lover a goodby kiss.

Stahl stared in disbelief at her lover's back. 'I knew you'd be upset over the debriefing, but you're really over reacting, dear!' She smiled nastily as the screen door slammed behind Tyler. "You're right about one thing," Stahl murmured into her coffee. "You won't be coming home tonight - or any other night!"

---

Jacob Hale was too busy to worry about Hector Salazar or Charming PD. Despite his victory in destroying CPD, he was still licking his wounds from losing Lumpy Feldstein's property. 'If I didn't need Zobelle's financial backing, I'd have told him to go to Hell over letting that gym go, much less paying for the exterior renovations!'

But he did need Zobelle's money, so he had no choice but to swallow his pride and make the offer to Cat Marshall. He shook his head, still unable to grasp the reality his adversary being the wife of the Sons' Sergeant at Arms. 'Opposites might attract, but I can't think of two more polar opposites!'

He hated being put into the position of improving Tig Trager's financial status. And that would happen because Trager co - owned the gym. The planned business improvements to Liberty Street would mean more business going to the gym. 'His wife is a smart business woman. Once she sees what I have planned for that area, she'll talk that dumb ass biker into adding exercise equipment to the joint! He'll pocket the money I was supposed to make!'

There was nothing he could do to change the status quo. The only thing that gave him any pleasure that he'd never paid Hector Salazar the remainder of the money he owed the outlaw. Salazar hadn't come back to collect, and Jacob was certainly not going to go looking for him to make good on the debt.

'Guess he doesn't need the money, since he's never come back for it. Frankly, I don't think he deserves it! I never said one word about killing Lumpy or hurting him in any way! Dumb fuck was just supposed to scare the old man! Lose a few thousand here, save a few grand there. Works for me either way!'

He knew deep down inside that he'd eventually have to pay the piper. Salazar and his girlfriend had that recording of him admitting to hiring the outlaw in the first place. 'If that ever gets out, my political aspirations are dead!'

He considered several options to get the recording back, before it eventually dawned on him that the easiest way to make sure he got rid of the recording was to play Salazar's game. 'I'll tell him he doesn't get the rest of the payment unless I get the girl's phone. That way I can get rid of the recording for good!'

He sighed and returned to work reviewing the contracts for the Liberty Street project. That was another saving grace to the entire Feldstein fiasco. Now that the remaining property was settled, he could go about the business of improving the district. 'I just need to make sure SAMCRO doesn't dip their fingers into any more of this particular pie!' He picked up his own pre paid cell and began making a series of calls to start the Liberty Street project in motion.

---

Piney examined the new play area with a practiced eye. Everything looked secure and safe for the youngsters. "The grand kids will get a kick outta this next time they're here!" He observed in satisfaction. "Prospects did a good job! Not that I'd say that to their faces!"

He lumbered into the office to go over the day's business with Chuckie. Despite the absence of the club, the garage mechanics - along with Tig, Kozik, and himself - had managed to keep up with the work load. All the jobs were being completed on schedule.

"Clay might grumble a bit about the overtime Dog and a couple of the other guys accumulated," Chuckie maintained.

"Clay will just have to get over it," Piney growled. "He can't make off with three-quarters of the work force and expect the rest of us to pick up the slack without a little overtime!"

"I accept that!" Chuckie grinned. "Not sure if Clay will."

"I'll handle Clay."

"I accept that, too!"

Piney went on into the garage to do some work of his own. He'd have to leave later to pick up the club at the Stockton cargo air field, but he could get a good amount of work done before that time.

He found Dog and the other civilian employees hard at work along with Kozik.

He motioned Kozik over to talk for a bit away from the other employees.

"You hear from Tig this mornin'?"

"Yeah. He'll be in a little later. Said he wanted to spend a little time with his wife."

"I accept that," Piney replied. "Any word on Tara?"

Kozik shook his head. "Tig checked with Unser, nothin' new overnight."

"Guess that's some good news. If she was hurt or dead, he'd tell us right away."

"True dat."

"I just hope Salazar doesn't get wind that Alvarez's death was a fake while he has Tara," Piney added.

"Let's keep our fingers crossed," Kozik replied fervently.

The garage was busy when Tig's Dyna roared into the compound. Piney and Kozik walked out of the garage, wiping their hands on towels as Tig parked his bike. His determined expression warned them he wasn't bearing good news.

Kozik grabbed his cut and slid his arms into it as he and Piney strode across the compound to the clubhouse. Chuckie scurried after them to serve a round of drinks.

Tig was already sitting at the bar waiting when his brothers joined him. Chuckie scrambled behind the bar to pull out beers and tequila.

"Where are the prospects?" Tig inquired.

"Sleeping. They didn't finish the play area until dawn," Kozik replied.

"Get them up in a couple more hours. Need them working in the garage when you leave to get the club," he informed Chuckie before taking a pull from his beer.

"What's goin' on, Tigger?" Piney asked after downing his first of many shots of tequila.

"Heard from Alvarez. He's coming back from the dead early," Tig announced. He explained the details of the Mayans' Prez phone call, adding, "The Mayans are antsy that if Salazar is caught by the cops, he'll rat out the 'H' trade."

Kozik whistled soundlessly.

"Yeah. Alvarez assured me the Mayans won't engage Salazar if Tara's still with him -"

"That doesn't mean shit!" Piney interjected. "You know it, and I know it!"

"Unfortunately, old man, you're right. If it comes down to protectin' all and givin' up one, it doesn't look good for Tara," Tig replied glumly.

"And that could put the truce with the Mayans, us, and the GB in jep!" Kozik exclaimed.

"No shit, Sherlock!" Piney growled.

"Fightin' with each other isn't gonna change anything!" Tig stated roughly. "All we can do is wait for word from either Alvarez or Unser!"

"You already make Alvarez aware that Clay will want a meet the minute they're back?"

Tig gave Piney the hairy eyeball before barking, "Absolutely. Alvarez hid out a few hours away, said it would take him awhile to get back to Oaktown."

"The club will be back by then," Kozik noted. "Maybe we'll have good news for 'em."

Tig took another pull from his beer. He hoped that Kozik was right, but he had a feeling that the chances of that happening were like a snowball's chance of staying solid in Hell.

---

Cat remained in the back yard where Alex had left her. she listened to the sound of his Dyna roar down the street towards the clubhouse. She sighed in resignation, then squared her shoulders and turned towards the back entrance to the coffeehouse.

She'd intended to work on the spreadsheet in her home office, but realized that all the information on the baked goods she sold was on her office computer. She didn't trust herself to be able to work from memory and didn't want to bother her staff with emailing the file to her. 'Why bother them when I'm perfectly able to get the work done there?' She reasoned, slipping into her office and powering up the computer.

She opened the spreadsheet program and selected 'New'. The first matter was to size the various columns, or cells, that would be used for the inventory list for the Stockton Commissary. She labeled each column, tweaking the size of each column and then printing a test sheet. She wasn't happy with the first draft, but had difficulty getting it to size correctly to the printer. After several attempts, she finally decided it would just be easier to make two regular size sheets as opposed to trying to format it to a single legal sized sheet.

'It's gonna mean having to do a lot of fill in work via pen and paper, and transferrin' the intel to the 'puter upon our return from Stockton each week!' She determined resignedly. 'I don't see any other way to make this work. At least the spreadsheet will fit on a clipboard!'

Reading from left to right, there were columns for each baked item, followed by date delivered, total number delivered, total number sold, price per item, and total number of items restocked. The columns listing each baked good and the price per item were already pre filled for the six months of the contract. The only other cell that was pre filled was the total number delivered.

The other columns wouldn't be filled in until after the first delivery, and continue with each succeeding delivery. She saved the spreadsheet, then sent a copy to her home email, along with copies to Pete and Miss Anna.

'I doubt they'll ever have a reason to make the Stockton delivery, but I'd rather be prepared for that now than scramble for it later.' She observed.

She glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. She'd worked several hours on the spreadsheet, right through lunch. 'At least Alex hasn't been back to check on me; I'd have heard about it by now!' Nor had he called as the two - way had remained silent.

'That doesn't mean anything,' she reassured herself. 'He'll find out what I've been up to anyway. Always does. I just hope no news on Tara is good news.'

Pete had checked in on her when he heard the printer go off, 'tsk - tsking' over her return. A fierce glare from his employer had prevented him from issuing any comments about her presence in the office, but his expression had indicated his distress at her presence.

She slipped out of the coffeehouse before he could return to check on her progress and found herself drawn to the garage. She missed her bike. 'I haven't seen 'Blackie 2' since the day of the Peace Rally. What's it gonna hurt to visit him?'

She opened the garage door to reveal her lonely motorcycle. A single wire with twin leads ran from a power supply plugged into a wall outlet. The twin leads were attached to the battery. "Hi, baby," she crooned to the silent bike. 'Y'all miss me?' She was happy to see the battery was still connected to the bike, and that the spark plugs weren't missing. 'Not that I wouldn't put it past Alex to have removed 'em so I couldn't ride until he thinks I'm well enough!' The ignition key was already inserted, so she straddled the bike and turned the ignition to 'start'. Then she pressed the electric starter.

The bike immediately turned over with a defiant roar. Cat smiled as she imagined the bike was saying "It's about damn time!" to her. She opened the throttle a little, allowing the engine to roar a little louder.

White clouds of smoke puffed from the exhaust, but that didn't worry her. She knew it was caused by the enforced inactivity the bike had endured. She decided to let the engine run for awhile until the white smoke was eliminated. 'Besides, I rather enjoy the feel of that engine between my legs!' She enthused. 'It's damn near better than sex!'

A guilty smile crossed her face over the idea. "It's a good thing Alex wasn't around to hear that," she murmured to the bike. "He'd really be miffed!"

Sitting on the bike while it idled was a mistake. Cat badly desired to take the battery off the charger and go for a ride, whether Alex approved or not. The motivating factor that enabled her to fight temptation was the idea that Alex might've noted the mileage. "I wouldn't put it past him!" She grumbled. "Hell, I'm surprised he left the spark plugs alone!"

The bike purred in agreement. She sighed in frustration and resigned herself to just enjoying the stationary experience. The minute the white smoke stopped billowing from the exhaust, she reluctantly shut down the engine. She inhaled the aroma of gasoline and hot metal as she climbed off the bike and patted its' gas tank appreciatively.

"We'll be on the road before too much longer, Blackie II," she crooned to the bike.

She closed the garage door and stepped into the house, intent on keeping her word and getting some rest.

---

"This is Tyler. I need some personal time," she announced when she supervisor answered the phone.

"We really need you to help with the Knowles disappearance," the supervisor replied.

"You know I wouldn't ask for the time if it wasn't necessary," she insisted. "Do I have to go through my union steward?"

"No," the supervisor replied reluctantly. "Go ahead and take what you need, but if you can report in before 1PM, it'd be helpful."

"I'll see what I can do," Tyler replied noncommittally. She tossed her cell phone onto the vacant passenger seat and stared out the windshield at the sea.

Gulls flew overhead, occasionally swooping down to the water line to pluck a fish from the water. Then the large bird would fly away with a screech of triumph to consume its' prey.

'That's what I feel like, prey. And Stahl's the predator coming after me!' Tyler observed. She looked down at the two envelopes sitting in her lap. One was addressed to her parents, the other addressed to the only newscaster she believed could be trusted with her suspicions, James Windover.

Tyler had gone to the library the night before to research the local news outlets on-line. Stahl rarely entered the library, preferring to use her laptop for her research. Tyler found the library a soothing, comforting place. She loved the smell of the books on the shelves and the quiet atmosphere.

Her research had proven to her that the Channel 2 reporter, now station assignment editor, was the best choice with her letter. His coverage of all the events that had occurred in Charming area when SAMCRO faced off with Ethan Zobelle had been fair and accurate. 'Even if it never goes any further than his eyes, I can rest assured that my suspicions won't die with me,' Tyler decided.

It wasn't hard for her to guess that Stahl was planning to kill her. The knowledge had hit with the force of a lightning bolt, and almost as quick. Stahl had set her up for the bad shoot in Galt through Gemma's statement. Stahl was the type who didn't like to leave loose ends. Tyler was definitely a loose end, especially if she continued to maintain her innocence. A squeaky wheel eventually got tended to in one way or another.

Tyler still had her own copy of the duty roster, which showed she had never been near the Hayes house when the shooting occurred. Subsequent copies of the duty roster indicated otherwise, as did all the reports from the team that day.

Tyler knew in her heart that Stahl had managed to edit the reports. 'That's why she had them all go to her first, instead of straight to the supervisor as usual. Just like she wrote up that false statement Gemma Morrow gave the US Attorney! She never cared about me, she was just using me as a means to an end!' That realization didn't hurt the way she'd expected. She felt a cold lump of lead settle in the pit of her stomach when she accepted that fact. It had numbed her to the core and was the reason she'd written the letters.

'I don't know why I haven't mailed them yet. Maybe to delay the inevitable.' She returned her attention to the seascape ahead of her and sighed deeply before starting the car and heading towards CPD.

On her way past the post office, she pulled into the lot and stopped before a mail box, sliding the two envelopes inside.

---

After Kozik left in the van to pick up Gemma and the returning club members, Tig sequestered himself in the clubhouse chapel to think about what lay ahead in the next few hours. Piney had gone on to the cabin to get it ready for Gemma.

'The minute the Feds find out the club's back, Stahl'll be sniffin' around lookin' for Gem. Sendin' her to the cabin will give her a little more time for Jax to get things squared away for her.'

Tig realized that events were going to be quickly heading towards the end of Jax's plan. That lay more heavily on his heart and mind than Tara's continued absence. He wasn't looking forward to that. It meant an enforced, long - term separation from his wife. Unlike his arrest at the Morado Christian Center, there would be no possibility of getting released on bond. Not until every minute of the Federal sentence was served.

"I don't mind doin' the time. Done it before. It's the timin' that sucks! My life is much better these days and I hate leavin' Cat alone during some pretty important events!' He snorted with dry laughter to think of how much he had looked forward to those events. "Hell, I was really lookin' forward to family holidays and our first anniversary!" He fumed. "Cat'll be cool about it. She always is. I'm the one who doesn't like it!' He sighed as he lit a cigarette and laid his head over the back of his chair. 'If I'd known all this shit was gonna come down on us, maybe I wouldn't have gotten married!'

He shook his head in denial at the idea. There was no way he would change things, even if he could go back and make those changes. 'The best decision I ever made was askin' her to share my life.' He drew a deep draft of smoke into his lungs, then let it out through his nostrils, watching the smoke swirl in random patterns over his head. He knew in his heart that he'd made the right decision back then. 'Cat's been like a rock for me. I can't remember what my life was like without her in it. I sure as Hell wouldn't have been satisfied just to have her as an 'old lady'!' He mused.

He dug a small tape recorder out of his inner cut pocket and sat forward in his chair to examine it. It was his wife's recorder, but she didn't use it much now that she had her iPhone with the voice memo app. 'That's part of the reason I 'borrowed' it,' he observed wryly. 'She'll never miss the fucker!'

He'd taken the recorder out of the desk drawer Cat stored it in earlier in the day. He'd been waiting for her to finish dressing to go meet with the coffeehouse staff about the Stockton concession.

He continued staring at the small device. He had purchased a micro cassette for it on the way to the clubhouse. He had an idea of what he wanted and needed to record on the machine, it was just a matter of organizing his thoughts. He felt it was going to be one of the most important recordings he'd ever make, and he didn't want to fuck it up. That's why he was taking the time to make it. He had a feeling he wouldn't have time or enough privacy to make it later.

He sighed again, stubbed out the cigarette, and pushed the record button on the machine. He took a deep breath and began speaking.

---

The cargo plane made its' final descent to the Stockton air field, and taxied smoothly to the hangar where Kozik waited with the van. Inside the plane's cargo hold, the exhausted occupants unbuckled their belts and began to gather their things together.

They were tired and jet lagged from the long trans - Atlantic trip. All of them showed the strain from the hours long forced enclosure in the plane. Only Abel seemed unaffected. He lay sound asleep in his carrier, cradled in Gemma's arms.

'I wonder how all this will affect him later, or if he'll even remember it,' Jax observed, smiling indulgently at his son. 'Maybe we'll be lucky and he'll have no memory of it.'

The jet stopped and the cargo door lowered to reveal blue sky and sunshine. They all blinked owlishly in the sudden light, digging for their sunglasses as they stumbled out of the plane.

"Welcome back!" Kozik grinned. He was standing next to the van with his arms crossed. All the doors to the van were open in waiting for the bedraggled group.

Juice waved a half cheerful greeting at the founding member, while the others shuffled towards the van. Opie knelt down on the pavement and kissed it before getting up to follow the others to the van.

"What was that all about?" Jax inquired dryly.

"Just happy to be back home and away from that moss-covered shit hole at last," Opie rumbled.

Jax smiled and shook his head before climbing into the back of the van. His mother would ride shotgun with Abel in his carrier. The rest of the club climbed wearily into the van, placing their duffel bags behind the front seats.

"Everybody settled?" Kozik inquired.

"Let's get the Hell outta here!" Clay growled.

---

"Do you really think this Stockton concession is going to work, Pete?" CJ asked as he carried dishes from the lunch rush towards the kitchen.

"Miss Cat seems to think so," Pete shrugged. "You should realize by now that she doesn't do anything without giving it serious consideration first."

CJ placed the plastic pan full of dishware on the counter and leaned one hip against it. "I do realize that, dude. It's just that I can't help wondering if she's not going out on a limb with it."

Pete shook his head. He was cleaning the counter area, sweeping up spilled coffee grounds and other debris. "No, she's not. It's going to be a good revenue source for us, and will generate more interest in the business."

"More than the webpage and other social media?" CJ scoffed.

"Think about it, man!" Pete exclaimed. "The inmates have family. They talk about the baked goods to their family, the family checks us out, maybe place orders. More business is bound to come out way as a result!"

"You don't think something worse will result?"

"So that's what botherin' you!" Pete sighed. He pointed at the front window, where a small Reaper decal had been attached in a bottom corner. "See that?"

"So?"

Pete stared at his co - worker in disbelief.

"Oh. I forgot." CJ's face reddened with embarrassment.

"Easy to do when they're not around," Pete admitted. "I harbored the same thoughts myself, until I remembered the club will be back. SAMCRO means something around here. We'll be safe."

CJ picked up the plastic pan and continued on into the kitchen. 'I hope you're right, bro!'

"That's the only reason I agreed to this venture," Pete mused to himself. "If we didn't have the club's protection, that Stockton concession probably wouldn't have happened." He grinned and snorted at himself. "What am I saying? Miss Cat never backs down from a challenge! She'd go ahead with the concession and worry about the sharks in the water later!"

He was still grinning as he finished cleaning the coffee prep area, thinking of the indomitable spirit of his employer. The newest addition to their business meant baking day would be a little busier, and that meant he would need to check inventory for shopping day.

---

Unser and Clay sat behind the closed doors to Unser's office. Clay and Jax had ridden out to CPD after the club had met in church. Tig and Kozik had updated the others on the situation with Tara and Salazar, then scattered to carry out the various errands Clay had given them.

Unser was surprised when he saw Clay and Jax walk into CPD Headquarters. Stahl hadn't reported in for the day, so he hustled Clay into his office to talk. Jax remained outside to watch for Stahl.

"I take it that your return means you found Abel," Unser announced dryly as he settled wearily into his chair.

Clay nodded. He felt as weary as Unser looked. He acknowledged that he knew about CPD's demise from Tig, along with Lumpy Feldstein's murder. "He was a good man and a good friend. Sorry we missed the service."

Unser squirmed under Clay's gaze. He wondered if Tig had mentioned his own contribution to Lumpy's death. 'If he did, Clay's playing his cards close to his chest and not offering intel. That hurts, but I guess it's what I can expect for making a poor choice!'

Clay mentioned that Gemma's bond hearing was in two days, but that they were keeping her return under wraps. "She refused to go to the cabin, and if Stahl gets wind that she's back, she'll have my girl in chains before either of us can blink!"

Unser assured Clay CPD wouldn't go after Gemma, much less inform Stahl of her presence. Meanwhile, he needed Salazar alive to pin Lumpy's death on Jacob Hale. "The minute he's captured, he'll rat out Hale, and that might enable me to buy some more time for CPD!"

Clay agreed that having SANWA take over Charming's law enforcement was not a good thing for all involved. He pledged the club's help in that matter. 'That may be hard to make happen, but we'll give it our best shot.'

As Clay exited Unser's office, Stahl walked down the hall. She'd just come in from the parking lot and was a little perturbed that she didn't see Tyler's vehicle there. 'She should've been here by now!' Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the two SAMCRO officers. A grim smile crossed her face as she passed them and made a wry observation about their recent travels before continuing on to her office.

Jax rolled his eyes over Stahl's comment. Before Clay could react, Jax suggested the Prez return to the clubhouse. He waited until Clay left the building to venture to Stahl's office.

The minute the door closed behind Jax, Stahl demanded to know where Jimmy O'Phelan could be found. 'You could at least pretend to be concerned about Tara!' he observed inwardly. He managed to control his anger to growl that Jimmy was as MIA as Tara.

Before Stahl could launch into her ancient diatribe about how much they both had to lose, the SAMCRO VP admitted that Jimmy O was safe and sound with the Russian gun runner, Putlova, in Northern California. "It was part of his safe passage out of Ireland," Jax added. He didn't mention that the Irish Kings had appointed SAMCRO with the task of eliminating Jimmy O. 'No need to rock the boat!'

Instead, Jax instructed Stahl to set up a meet in Stockton between Big Otto and Lenny the Pimp. Stahl was aware of Lenny's dossier; he had connections with the Russians the club could use to retrieve Jimmy O. Though Stahl felt there was little chance of getting the meet set up with Otto in solitary, Jax surprised her with his own knowledge of the prison's inner workings.

"Otto will be released tomorrow. That's the best time to arrange the meet. Without that meeting and Lenny's contacts, there's no Jimmy O."

Stahl narrowed her eyes. 'Just who's running this show?' She stood up to retrieve a brown folder that she passed on to Jax before resuming her seat. 'Nothing comes free, fella! If I've got to give up something, you have to give something back!' She asked if any of the Irish Kings in the folder looked familiar to him.

Jax was deliberately vague. In reality, he'd just talked to those men a few hours ago, before Abel was returned to him. He didn't see reason to tell Stahl that. Not after the way she'd treated his family. He tossed the folder onto her desk as he stood up. Before he opened the door, he dangled a tempting morsel in front of Stahl's nose that his memory might clear up once Tara was safe.

'So that's the way it's going to be!' Stahl mused after Jax departed her office. 'I've waited this long for Jimmy O. Another day won't matter. I just have to concentrate on finding his girlfriend while eliminating the only person who can destroy everything I've built in the agency!' She snorted contemptuously at the idea, then she checked her voice mail and frowned in consternation at the news that her partner had taken personal time.

'I've got a bad feeling about this!'

---

Victor Putlova, the kingpin of the Northern California region for the Russian Mob, looked out over the lush forestation that surrounded his palatial home. The good life he led showed in his furnishings, his home, his clothing, and his body. Gone was the sinewy grace of youth, replaced by the flesh of good eating and fine wines. Only his eyes and his brain betrayed the ruthless cunning that had brought him to that moment in time and his place in the underworld hierarchy and that kept him there.

He glanced at the nervous Irishman sitting across from him. Jimmy O'Phelan had shown up at his doorstep a day earlier with his lieutenant in tow, demanding safe passage to South America in exchange for setting Putlova up as a major arms dealer in the Norcal area. It was well-known in the underworld community that Jimmy O'Phelan was a wanted man, deep in trouble with the Irish Mob.

His ties with the Irish weren't deep enough to make Putlova interested in turning Jimmy O'Phelan in to his hunters. Money was the only thing that spoke to Putlova, and Jimmy O'Phelan was talking big money. The Irish Mafia hadn't spoken of a single red cent in exchange for Jimmy, so Putlova was willing to listen to what the hunted man had to say.

Jimmy wasn't the only one talking, much to Putlova's distaste. Jimmy's lieutenant did as much talking as the Irish criminal himself. 'This one needs to learn there is a time to be heard, and a time to be silent!' Putlova thought to himself, carefully keeping his features from showing his inner disgust.

His own lieutenant was standing off to one side instead of sitting at the table with his employer. He knew his job - to protect Putlova's back at all times - and he did it well. The other thing Putlova's lieutenant didn't do was to lend a voice in negotiations of any kind, including monentary ones.

'It's no wonder the Irish have no love for Jimmy O'Phelan! They can't trust him any further than they can throw him, and neither can I!' His eyes narrowed slightly as he uttered a slight change in the agreement Jimmy had initially offered before appearing on Putlova's doorstep. He knew neither Jimmy nor his lieutenant were in a position to protest much.

Jimmy offered a slight protest to the change of plans, but his lieutenant surprised Putlova by calming his employer and assuring the Russian the two Irishmen could raise the necessary funds.

"No, you will go alone," Putlova decreed, eyeballing Jimmy's lieutenant. "Jimmy will remain here."

Jimmy and his lieutenant exchanged nervous glances. They weren't used to being separated and neither liked the idea. 'It's nae tha' my mon cannae raise tha' muny wi'oot me,' Jimmy observed to himself. 'I just hae a bad feelin' aboot this!'

He realized from Putlova's unforgiving gaze that he had no choice in the matter. He nodded a dismissal to his lieutenant, trying not to look as nervous as he felt.

Following the Irishman's departure, Putlova suggested he and Jimmy go inside. The late afternoon bugs were becoming pests, nipping and stinging Putlova's tender flesh. As much as he enjoyed the outdoors, the interior of his opulent home was even more comfortable, and free of pests. At least of the winged variety.

Putlova and his lieutenant settled down to a game of backgammon. Jimmy couldn't stay seated for any length of time. He paced the entire house time and again while Putlova watched him out of the corner of his eye. The more agitated Jimmy became, the more content Putlova grew.

Jimmy tried to raise his lieutenant several times during the next few hours in hope of getting an update on his progress. The phone constantly went to voice mail. 'This isnae gud!' Jimmy thought. 'Tha mon always answers!'

He dared to interrupt the game to beg Putlova to let him go after his lieutenant. He was desperate to get out from under Putlova's watchful eye, but he was also worried that his lieutenant was having difficulty raising the required funds from their contacts. "Ifn Ah'm present, tha' muny will be tha' much quicker gettin' to ye!" Jimmy pointed out.

Putlova sighed and gathered his patience about him. Jimmy was as persistent as the bugs outside, and just as annoying. He carefully explained to Jimmy how important it was for the Irishman to stay where he was. "You're just not in a position to be roaming around on your own," the Russian mobster pointed out. "It's best that you remain where you are. Unless you think your man might take the money and leave you holding the proverbial bag!"

"Ah trust 'im like me bruther!" Jimmy hissed. "Ah jist thot ye wanted tha muny as soon as possible!"

"I do, Jimmy. But the anticipation is almost as enjoyable as the obtaining. Sit down. Relax. Have a drink."

Though Putlova waved his hand in an expansive, almost carefree invitation, it felt more like an order to Jimmy. He reluctantly did as he was told, scrubbing his face with his hands and ignoring the Russian lieutenant's sterile glare.

'Ye best 'urry yerself, lad!' Jimmy thought anxiously. ''Tis bad enuf tha' this basturd 'as taken a larger part o' tha new operation than 'e shuld! At least call me wi' an update!'

---

Lyla willingly gave Gemma a ride back to her house in the Prius, while Miles and Opie followed in the van with the bags and Gemma's cockatoo.

The bird had been silent and moped the entire time it had been in Miles' care. He'd feared that the bird would keel over on its' perch before Gemma returned. No matter how hard he tried to draw bird out, the feathered fiend refused to acknowledge his efforts with a single peep. It refused to eat and barely moved about the travel cage.

The minute the bird heard his mistress' voice, his crest rose and he nuzzled the bars of the cage, trying to get her attention. He didn't find his voice until he sensed he was in his home. Then he chirped happily and made the jump from the travel cage to his larger home accomodations with little fuss.

He sat on his perch, preening his feathers as Gemma watched. Miles was more than happy to see the last of the bird. 'I hope I don't have to bird sit again for a long time!'

Opie carried Gemma's and Clay's duffel bags into the bedroom while Lyla sat in the dining room holding Abel and Miles waited outside. He set the bags on the floor and watched Gemma interact with her bird. He was troubled, despite being happy to be reunited with Lyla. Gemma sensed his need to talk and turned her attention to him.

"I knew something was worrying you the entire time we were in Belfast," Gemma acknowledged once Opie shared his concern with her. "Men like you don't like to share pussy, or any other part of your woman."

"So what do I do?"

Gemma smiled grimly. There was only one way Opie could gain control over Lyla. She would be a welcome addition to the club wives. A docile, gentle presence unlike the independent, feisty Cat Marshall and her own protege, Tara.

Jax breathed a sigh of relief when he lifted the tarp to find two strange women lying dead under it. One had obviously been dead for some time. 'Must be Salazar's old lady,' he observed to himself. The other woman, though dark-haired like Tara, was a stranger to him. He felt bad for the woman's family, but was happy that Tara wasn't the victim of Salazar's rage.

Alvarez and his crew had found the bodies lying along the alley near Highway 18. Both the Mayans and SAMCRO had rushed to the old dumping site after Ramona, the owner of the house Salazar had used, gave the site as a location where he might be hiding.

The Mayans had just arrived for to meet with the Sons about Salazar when Bobby and Kozik returned with Ramona. The woman was scared and talking rapidly in Spanish. Alvarez had put his gun to the frightened woman's head and demanded the intel on Salazar.

Alvarez had sent the Charming club to check out the house near the dump site, while he and his officers scanned the dirt road for possible clues. Seconds later, Alvarez called to Jax that they'd found something. He'd pushed through the crowd of men to find the tarp covered bodies, his heart freezing at the sight of a familiar dark head peeking out from the tarp.

"Tig, call Unser. This is in his jurisdiction. He'll know who else to call," Clay murmured.

"Copy that," Tig was already digging out his burner to make the call.

Clay stepped forward to comfort his step - son, but Jax was already moving away from the scene. He felt as helpless as he had when Abel was abducted. He was tired - physically and emotionally.

All kinds of questions raced through his mind. He knew that Tara was physically fine, at least up until she and Margaret parted company. 'He knows she's pregnant, could his hate extend to my unborn child? What kind of man could kill a pregnant woman for spite? Tig's not even that warped!'

It didn't matter to him that Clay had dictated that Salazar had to be taken alive. His mind was already made up. 'I'm going to do what we should've done at the rally! Fuck pinning a conspiracy to commit murder rap on Hale! Let him have the mayor's seat! I want Salazar to die for what he's done!'

All he had to do was think about the innocent woman lying on the ground behind him, and his resolve solidified. 'This isn't over yet, Salazar! Show yourself if you have the guts!'

---

Wayne Unser sighed as he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. 'Can't a guy enjoy just a few minutes' peace?' He dug it out and glanced at the caller ID. All it told him was the caller was a 'CA call'. 'Must be Tig,' he mused, opening the old style flip phone and putting it to his ear. "Unser."

"Tig. You know the old dump site near 18?"

"I'm familiar with it."

"Better get the coroner and anyone else that has to investigate a murder," Tig announced coldly.

Unser felt icy fear drive away the mellow feeling he'd gotten from the joint he'd just shared with Gemma. "Tara?"

"No. Two women. Might be Salazar's work. One of the bodies is pretty ripe. The other is a fresh kill."

Unser was about to tell the SAMCRO SAA he was on his way, but Tig had already shut off his phone. "Nice talkin' to ya," he grumbled. He radioed dispatch to request the coroner and Lodi CSI to meet him at the dump site.

He was surprised to find Marcus Alvarez and two of his officers loitering at the scene with the full SAMCRO contingent. 'I'm not sure if I'm happy with them joining forces on this.' He shrugged the thought aside as he climbed out of the car and approached Clay. "What have we got?"

"Salazar's latest victim. The ripe one must be the one Tara took out. She's been dead awhile," Clay rumbled.

"You workin' with the Mayans to find Salazar?"

"Why, Wayne! We were just out enjoyin' a friendly ride and stumbled on this!" Clay grinned.

"That's your story and you're stickin' to it," Unser grumbled. He took in a deep breath, held it, and squatted down to examine the two bodies. He didn't remain there long, just long enough to see if there was any ID on either of the women.

He quickly stood up and moved away from the bodies. Flies buzzed all around the one, and the stench of decomposition had made his stomach queasier than the cancer meds had ever made him feel. It took several deep breaths of clean air to subdue the urge to vomit, which he didn't want to do in front of the outlaws.

"Guess it's kinda hard on a cancer patient," Jax murmured sympathetically. "I doubt anyone would think less of ya if you spewed chunks."

"Takes too much out of me," Unser muttered. "Otherwise I would."

The wail of distant sirens alerted the group to the approach of the crime scene techs. The coroner's van was already coming to a stop near the bodies.

"You guys need to hang around awhile. Give your statements to the CSIs," Unser instructed. "I'm sure you've had plenty of time to co-ordinate your stories."

Clay merely grinned while the CSI team pulled to a stop behind the coroner's vehicle. They stood aside as the cops taped off the scene and began photographing and looking for evidence.

Jax watched silently while Unser talked with the CSIs and the coroner. He heard Unser explain to Clay that the ripe corpse had bled out, confirming that it was Luisa, Salazar's girlfriend.

The other victim was eventually ID'd as Laurie Allen, an undercover cop for the Oaktown PD. A call to that cop shop indicated they had no idea why she'd been out of the jurisdiction. The Oaktown chief of police was having her cell phone record pulled to try to determine why she was on that deserted road.

"There's an APB out on the car she was driving. A Lexus," Unser reported.

"Pretty pricey car for a cop," Clay observed dryly.

"No surprise you'd think that," Unser retorted. "Not that it's any of your business; her husband is a corporate type with money comin' out the asshole. Car was a birthday present to the wife."

Clay winced painfully. He could only imagine how the husband was going to feel when he learned his wife's fate. "I'm sorry," he murmured sincerely.

"Yeah. So am I."

---

Tyler walked into CPD headquarters through the back entrance. She'd spotted Stahl's government issued vehicle and had parked as far from it as she could get. She shook her head at the childish notion, but she couldn't help feeling more comfortable at keeping physical distance from her former lover. 'Huh. That's the first time I've thought of Stahl that way. It's not as painful as I thought it'd be,' she observed to herself.

"What was so important that you had to take time off?" Stahl called from her borrowed office as Tyler passed the open door.

"Personal business," Tyler replied quietly without stopping.

"Come in here!" Stahl called out.

Tyler considered ignoring the summons and continuing on to the break room. 'She's still the superior officer on site, I can't jeopardize what's left of my career by being insubordinate!' She returned to stand just at the threshold.

"Come in and shut the door, I want to talk to you," Stahl ordered matter of factly.

"I can hear you perfectly well from here," Tyler retorted.

"So can everyone else in the building. There are some things they're not meant to hear," Stahl insisted, pointing to the chair on the other side of the desk.

Tyler shrugged and stepped into the small office, closing the door softly behind her. She settled into the chair and waited expectantly.

"Are you all right?" Stahl asked worriedly.

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought that might've been why you took personal time this morning. You didn't mention it when you left the house." Stahl replied.

'It's a little too late for you to show any concern,' Tyler thought, keeping her facial expression carefully neutral. She remained calm and composed under Stahl's intense stare. "I said it was personal, that means it was my own private affair," she replied coolly.

"Look, if you're still upset about yesterday -"

"If that's the reason you called me in here, then this conversation is over," Tyler stated flatly, rising from the chair.

"No, it's not. I just thought -"

"Well, you thought wrong," Tyler replied quietly. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes," Stahl's voice became businesslike as she leaned back in her chair, still gazing intently at her lover. "SAMCRO's back from Belfast. That means Gemma is probably somewhere. We're going out to find her and bring her in."

"The entire team?"

Stahl shook her head. "I think the two of us can handle her. You ready to go?"

"Just give me a couple of minutes," Tyler replied. She needed an excuse to delay walking out the door with Stahl. Anything to put off being alone with the woman she no longer trusted. She settled on the oldest excuse in the book. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Stahl rolled her eyes and waved at the door. "Be quick about it. I'll wait for you in the car."

---

Chuckie signed off on the delivery slip and handed the driver a wadded up dollar bill. "Gee, thanks!" The teen sniped. "This will go straight to my college fund!"

"I accept that!" Chuckie grinned, ignoring the obvious sarcasm in the teen's voice. 'It's all I have on me, you jerk!' He gazed gleefully at the pile of boxes in front of him. It was the answer to all of SAMCRO's future money problems, if only he could get someone to listen to him.

Gemma walked in just as he was ready to open the top most box. He offered to display the contents, but she brushed him off as she opened a drawer of her desk.

'Why can't I get anyone to listen to me?' He wailed inwardly. 'I don't accept all these brush offs!' He saw Gemma tuck a gun into her purse out of the corner of his eye, then take a set of keys from the board near the doorway.

He looked incredulously at her when she instructed him to open the back gate. Though Gemma claimed she was taking the recently repaired BMW for a test drive, he knew Dog had already tested the vehicle before turning in the job as complete.

Gemma merely glared at him when he challenged her on the matter. Her glare indicated he shouldn't test her patience, so he scampered away to open the gate.

Gemma slipped behind the wheel of the BMW and started the ignition. Her talk with Unser had been beneficial, as had his offer to intervene on Jax's behalf with Stahl. She'd refused his offer, only because he had little leverage to use against the agent.

'I've got the means and the power to fight her on this, and I'm going to use it!' Gemma thought determinedly. She'd heard Unser's patrol vehicle speed off from her house with sirens blaring, so she knew he'd be gone from CPD for awhile.

She parked the BMW across the street from the CPD parking lot. She had a clear view of the back entrance and Stahl's government vehicle. Clay had told her during their journey to Belfast that Stahl had managed to get back in good graces with her superiors and wasn't using her own car.

After a brief wait, Gemma was rewarded with the sight of Stahl striding out of CPD. 'What do you know, someone's on my side! The bitch is alone for once!' Gemma put the car in drive and pulled into the parking lot, coming to a stop next to Stahl's vehicle.

The agent had just placed her hand on the door when the BMV pulled up beside her. She glanced at it in curiosity, then froze to see the muzzle of a gun pointed at her. Gemma's face stared stonily at her behind the weapon.

Stahl glanced back at the entrance to CPD, hoping that Tyler or one of the unis would come walking out. 'What a time for Tyler to have to take a shit!' Stahl sighed inwardly. She couldn't help thinking 'Where's a cop when you need one?' before she opened the passenger door of the BMW and settled in the passenger seat.

Before putting the car in reverse, Gemma demanded Stahl's gun, which she put in the side of the door where the agent couldn't get to it. She kept her own gun in her left hand and backed out of the parking space just as Tyler walked out the CPD entrance.

Tyler took one look at Stahl in the passenger seat of the BMW and gazed intently at the driver. Concern for her partner's welfare overruled Tyler's personal feelings as she rushed to the government issued Crown Vic to give chase. 'As much as I don't want to be with Stahl, I wouldn't wish Gemma's wrath on my worse enemy, and that includes Stahl!'

---

The stolen Lexus Salazar drove moved slowly down Liberty Street, stopping momentarily in front of Lumpy's Gym. The front windows were still covered. A sign on the door indicated the gym was still closed. "No doubt it's closed for good!" He laughed nastily as he pulled away. He piloted the Lexus around the corner and into the parking lot behind the building. He chose a parking spot far from the building and well out of sight of the street. 'Not that there's anyone who will see, but I can't take any chances yet!'

He stopped the car and shut off the engine, popping the trunk open. He got out of the car, holding a plastic bag in one hand. He set the bag on the ground, looked around to be sure no one was watching, and lifted the trunk lid. Tara lay inside, sweating and blinking in the sudden light.

Salazar pulled out his gun and waved it threateningly at Tara. "You know I'll use this if you give me the slightest reason, bitch! Sit up!"

Tara struggled to do so. Her muscles were cramped and having her hands cuffed in front of her was no help. Salazar slipped the gun into the waistband at the back of his pants and grabbed her arms, pulling her into a sitting position.

Tara whined with pain from his rough handling. Her eyes wide with fear. She continued to blink furiously as her eyes grew used to the light.

"Quit whining, bitch, or I'll give you something to whine about!" Salazar snarled.

Tara glared at him but remained silent. Her mouth felt dry.

Salazar held up the plastic bag in a taunting manner. "I have food and drink for you, but you get to have it in the trunk," he laughed, removing the gag none too gently from her mouth. Some strands of her hair had gotten into the knot, so that he uncaringly pulled some of her hair out by the root.

Tara winced, but remained silent, not giving in to the pain. She worked her jaw to ease the stiffness and watched him with wary eyes.

Salazar placed the bag in the trunk and stepped back. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"It's going to be hard to manage with these cuffs on," she croaked.

"Tough shit! Deal with it, bitch!" Salazar laughed. He pulled the gun out from the back of his pants and pointed it at her. "Start eating! I can't have you getting faint from hunger later!"

"What do you plan to do?" Tara croaked, reaching into the bag and withdrawing the bottle of lukewarm water. She twisted the cap off and managed to use both hands to bring the bottle to her mouth. 'Just take sips. You'll make yourself sick if you drink too much too soon.'

Salazar smiled grimly, standing with his feet askew and his arms crossed over his chest. The gun peeked out from the crook of one arm, pointed away from Tara for once. "I don't mind telling you, puta. You'll need to know your part to play, anyway."

---

A few minutes after she entered the house from the garage, the house phone demanded Cat's attention. A check of the caller ID showed it was Lumpy's property insurance carrier. She picked up the cordless handset and turned it on. "This is Cat."

"I'm looking for Alexander Trager, ma'am." The curt, businesslike voice on the other end of the line announced.

"I'm afraid he's away at the moment. I'm his wife, and handling the claim for the gym," she replied coolly. "If you have something to report, you need to deal with me."

The insurance adjuster recognized the no - nonsense and businesslike demeanor in Cat's voice. He could tell she would not be a push over. "I wanted Mr. Trager to know that I completed my inspection and am ready to offer a settlement."

"That's nice. As I told you, my husband is away on business. I have his authority to handle this matter, just as I had Mr. Feldstein's. That should be noted on the claim."

The adjuster cleared his throat. "It is, but with the death of Mr. Feldstein, I believed that situation might have changed."

"Then you believed wrong," Cat retorted.

"Is he able to be called to verify that he and or a Mr. Herman Kozik authorize you to handle the claim for them?"

Cat rubbed her forehead with her hand. She really hated dealing with bureaucratic types, and the adjustor was getting on her last nerve. "Apparently, y'all don't listen very well. Thought listenin' skills were kinda important in your line of work. I already told y'all that my husband isn't able to be reached. However, if you need authorization, let me give y'all my lawyer's telephone number. She'll be happy to fax y'all a copy of the authorization paperwork both men signed last night."

"I think that would be best, Mrs. Trager." The adjuster replied.

Cat gave him the information and added, "I'll be expectin' an apology in a few minutes!" She turned off the handset before the adjuster could reply, then turned it back on and dialed Ally's cell phone.

"Ally Lowen."

"Hey, darlin'. Cat here. Your office is gonna get a call from a highly officious insurance adjuster for Lumpy's carrier."

Ally felt a smile cross her face at the frustration evident in Cat's tone of voice. "Want me to knock some wind out of that stuffed shirt?"

"Of course! Figure y'all need a little somethin' to brighten your day!" Cat replied.

"Consider it done." Ally's intercom buzzed for her attention. "Ms. Lowen, call from an insurance adjuster about Mr. Feldstein's claim on line one," the receptionist announced.

"I'll leave y'all to it," Cat snickered.

"Be waiting for a call back in two shakes, kitten," Ally assured her, reaching for her office phone receiver with her other hand.

Cat had enough time to pour a fresh cup of coffee and settle in her favorite recliner with a notepad and pen before the adjustor called back.

"I trust you have sufficient information for us to continue?" She asked the adjuster. She couldn't keep a note of satisfaction out of her voice.

"Yes, ma'am. I apologize for the inconvenience earlier. I misunderstood."

"Like Hell, but let's get on it with it." She took thorough notes on the insurance company's settlement offer. She knew the most expensive damage was to the glassware, and there was no replacement value for Lumpy's Olympic medal. The settlement offer would cover the glass shelving and doors for the display cases, with some left over for paint and other materials.

'Thank God we can put the prospects to work on this!' Cat observed to herself. "That sounds workable. How long before you can release the check?"

"I can have it in the mail today," the adjuster replied.

"Not good enough."

"Would you prefer to come to the office to pick it up?"

"Apparently y'all don't pay attention to the news," she growled. "I was in a pretty nasty wreck a few days ago, and not allowed to drive yet. Why don't y'all bring it out to my home? I'll be here all day."

"Um, that's -"

"Do I need to call Ms. Lowen?" Cat interjected coldly.

"No ma'am!" The adjuster replied quickly. "I'll be over in an hour."

"Be sure to bring a copy of the renewed policy. The only changes I expect to see on it are the names of the customers. Tell the underwritin' department not to even think of tryin' any shenanigans with the rate! The name of the business is the same, only the management has changed, so the policy should remain the same. Unless y'all can afford to lose the business." She didn't wait for a response, but turned off the phone with a wide grin of satisfaction.

---

Tyler crouched as far as possible from Stahl in the Crown Vic's cabin. She'd managed to catch up to the BMW Gemma Teller Morrow has used to abduct her partner. She'd turned a corner to find Stahl standing in the street, picking up her gun while the BMW sped away.

Tyler had wanted to go after Gemma, or at least report the vehicle. Stahl had snarled at her to shut up and stormed off to the driver's side of the vehicle. Tyler had stared after her in shock and surprise, then reluctantly opened the passenger door and sat down.

Stahl didn't say a word during the short trip back to CPD. She seemed to have something on her mind. Though the silence made her nervous, Tyler was just as happy not to engage in conversation with her former lover.

'The sooner I put in for a partner change, the better!' It was the first time Tyler entertained the idea of changing partners. It made a lot of sense to her after the way Stahl had just turned on her, as well as the inquisition she'd endured from Stahl for taking personal time. 'There's just no way to continue to be working partners when our relationship is in shreds like this.'

Stahl pulled the Crown Vic to a stop in the CPD parking lot and shut off the engine. Before Tyler could open the passenger door, Stahl inquired, "Why did you come after me?"

Tyler gazed intently at Stahl, surprised that she would ask such a question. "You were being abducted at gunpoint and you're my co - worker. Naturally I'd follow to make sure you were OK!"

"Did you radio in the car's plate?" Stahl asked, a note of urgency tinging her voice.

Tyler shook her head. "There wasn't time. The car was out of sight before I could get to the car. I barely caught sight of the plate before Gemma pulled away."

Stahl closed her eyes and the tension in her body relaxed for a moment. "Good!" She snapped, opening the driver's door.

"Why didn't you want to chase after Gemma?" Tyler pressed. "Does it have to do with your deal with Jax Teller?"

Stahl swiftly turned back to face Tyler. "What do you know about that?" She hissed.

"Enough to know that you're treading on very thin ice," Tyler retorted. She opened the car door and got out of the vehicle, slamming it closed behind her. She hurriedly walked into the building.

Stahl stared after her partner, her eyes lit with a maniacal gleam. If she'd held any doubts about taking Tyler out, they were eliminated with her partner's own admission. It was obvious now that it needed to be done, and she couldn't wait for the US Attorney to make a ruling on Gemma Morrow's statement.

---

The stolen Lexus was parked on the street across from Hale Properties. Salazar had checked on the back parking lot, which was vacant. His sources had revealed that Jacob Hale had taken to parking in front of the building instead of the private lot. 'Probably afraid someone will pay an unexpected visit!'

Salazar used the time while he was waiting for Hale to appear to wrap up some personal loose ends. He'd called a couple of friends and some family, to tell them goodbye. After today, he would never see San Joaquin county again. He didn't say so, but he intended to live out his days in Mexico.

He had tried to reach his mother, but there had been no answer at her home. He then tried Ramona, his mother's sister-in-law. The minute Ramona recognized his voice, she warned him that Alvarez was looking for him.

"He put a gun to my head, demanded to know where you might be hiding, mijo!" She screamed in Spanish. "He was as cold as ice about it. I - I had to say something!"

"Ramona, it's OK," he assured her. "Listen to me a moment." He continued crooning reassuringly to her in Spanish, but the woman was consumed with fear for him and herself.

He saw Hale's Mercedes pull up in front of the building across from him, and Hale step out of the car. He gathered some items from the back seat, then strode into the building.

Salazar had no more time to talk to his family or anyone else. The time had come to put his plan into action. He ended the call with Ramona by asking her to give his mother his love and turned off the phone as Ramona was still speaking. He tossed the phone onto the vacant passenger seat and got out of the Lexus, removing a bag from the back seat.

He walked to the trunk and lifted the lid, not caring whether any passers by noticed Tara and called the police or not. 'I hope they do. The sooner the policia are here, the better!' He buttoned his shirt over the blood stained wife beater and stuck the gun in the waistband of his pants.

He roughly pulled Tara out of the trunk. "Don't forget what I told you!" He growled, tossing a jacket the car's owner had left in the back seat over Tara's cuffed hands. He grasped her by the elbow and led her across the street. They walked into the office as if they were clients, surprising the receptionist by Tara's appearance. Before the receptionist could pick up the phone to call CPD, Hale stepped out of his private office to request a file.

Salazar erupted into action, withdrawing his gun and advancing on Hale, pushing Tara ahead of him. "Get inside!" He yelled at Hale, pointing the gun directly in his face.

Hale backed into his office, followed by Tara and Salazar. The outlaw yelled an order over his shoulder for the receptionist to call CPD, then slammed the door shut.

Hector continued pointing the gun at Hale. "Get over against that wall!" He growled, indicating a solid wall well away from the large windows behind Hale's desk. There were no chairs and no telephone near that wall, just a pipe that ran from floor to ceiling.

Hale continued backing away from Salazar. He thought of trying to negotiate a deal with the outlaw, but one look at the set expression on Tara's face kept him from speaking out.

"Sit down, asshole!" Salazar snarled.

Hale hastily complied, sliding against the wall until his butt made contact with the floor. He kept his hands held out above his shoulders.

Salazar stepped behind Tara long enough to free one of her wrists. "Put the coat on," he snarled, while holding the open cuff in his hand. He only relinquished his hold long enough to allow Tara to slip her cuffed arm into the jacket.

The second Tara's hand peeked through the bottom of the sleeve, Salazar grabbed the opened cuff and used it to pull her to the wall next to Hale. Only the pole separated them. He slid the open cuff and chain under the pole and shackled Hale's wrist inside it. He gleefully closed the iron circle as tight as he could around Hale's wrist.

Hale winced and whined from the pressure of the iron on his wrist. "That hurts!" He cried.

"Ask me if I care!" Salazar spat, pointing the gun at Tara. "Filthy coward! This puta has more balls than you!"

Tara stifled a wry grin. Except for having to admit she was pregnant, she'd barely uttered any protests to her captor. Hale hadn't even been in Salazar's clutches for a minute and he was already complaining!

The receptionist lost no time in calling CPD to report that Hale had been taken hostage at gunpoint. "Dr. Knowles came in with the gunman!" She added shakily.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" The dispatcher inquired.

"I'm fine. The gunman took Dr. Knowles into Mr. Hale's office. They're all in there right now!"

"Get out of there now!" The dispatcher instructed before broadcasting the event over the CPD radio frequency.

---

Unser heard the announcement over his car radio while he and the club were still at the dump site where the bodies had been found. Both bodies had been taken away by the coroner. Only the yellow police tape, the tarp, and a pool of congealed blood bore testament that anything had happened there.

The Lodi team had interviewed each individual Son and the Mayans. The lead detective felt all the bikers knew more about the situation than they were telling. "That claim that they were 'just out for a friendly ride' holds as much water as a leaky sieve!" He griped to Unser.

"You can't be seriously considering any of them as suspects!" Unser retorted. "It's obvious the one body bled out a long time ago, and Alvarez gave you an ID on her. It's obvious Hector Salazar carjacked the Officer Allen and killed her in the process!"

"I still think they're hiding something!" The lead detective growled.

The radio blared the hostage situation at Jacob Hale's office, which was heard by the members of both clubs as well as the cops. "Sounds like things are heating up again in your little neck of the woods!" The lead detective quipped.

"Yeah. Seems that way," Unser observed dryly. "Listen, can you keep the Mayans here for a few more minutes? I know SAMCRO is going to be following me, but it'll help if we don't have two clubs on the scene."

"Sure! Why not!" The lead detective replied sarcastically. "It's not like I have anything better to do!"

"Thanks," Unser turned and strode over to Clay. The SAMCRO Prez was very worried over the broadcast. "You heard."

"We all did," he included the Mayans with a nod of his head in their direction.

"Lead detectives got a few more questions for the Mayans, but you're free to go. I assume you're coming."

"Try to keep us away!" Clay replied.

"I won't. Just stay out of the professional's way, will ya?" Unser pleaded as he headed for his car.

"You heard the man," Clay informed his crew. "Let's go!"

---

Cat sighed in satisfaction as she watched the stuff shirted insurance adjuster back hastily from her driveway. She snorted a laugh at the speed the adjustor used to get away from her house. 'He's lucky the cops aren't around to ticket him! Had to be tryin' to break the 0 to 60 record!'

She limped back to the kitchen table where the check and the new insurance policy for the gym lay. Both had met her stringent approval. The policy premium had not changed, which had been her biggest fear. She'd worked for an insurance carrier as a claim intake rep for several years in Indiana, and knew that rates were as variable as the weather there.

'The last thing this new business venture for Alex and 'Herman' needed was a major insurance rate increase!' She had a week to get the policy signed by her husband and Kozik and get it returned to the carrier. The next premium wasn't due for another month.

'It's been awhile since Alex has had a decent home cooked meal,' she thought, checking inside the refrigerator. There were minimal leftovers from the shiva - not enough for a meal for two - so she defrosted a roast in the microwave, then put it and some frozen vegetables, along with water and seasonings in the crock pot. 'Now whenever he gets home tonight, he'll have a decent meal waiting!'

Her iPhone's ring tone of Gerard Butler began playing at that moment. She knew it wouldn't be Alex, as he always used the two - way to call her. The caller ID indicated the call was from Ally.

"Are y'all callin' to see how it went with the adjustor?"

"No. Have you been watching the news?"

Cat wrinkled her nose. "Have you been inhalin' around the club, darlin'? It's not news time yet!"

"Funny woman!" Ally snorted. "Special coverage, Hector Salazar's taken Tara and Jacob Hale hostage in Hale's office."

Cat limped to the television and turned it on to Channel 2, her preferred outlet. The drama began unfolding on screen the minute the power came on. "I'm on it. Thanks for the heads up."

"Anytime."

Cat ended the call and settled in front of the television, her eyes glued to the screen. The reporter wasn't James, but she hadn't expected him to be there. Not after being promoted to the assignment desk.

". . .San Joaquin Sheriff's department has taken over from Charming Police, as the Sheriff's department has the necessary tactical team to handle cases like this and a hostage negotiator has made contact with the instigator, Hector Salazar. Agents from the ATF are also on the scene as backup. No shots have been fired. . ."

Cat slumped against the chair back in relief. No shots meant no injuries and was good news. Her heart raced when she caught a glimpse of her husband's face in the background, along with the rest of the club.

"I'm not surprised they're present. Salazar must have Tara with him!" She studied the tense postures of the club members that had been in Belfast. She could tell they were stressed and tired. "Good Lord, please let this end peacefully!"

---

Tyler was nervous that she and Stahl were the only ATF agents on the scene of the hostage situation at Hale's office. She'd waited during the short trip from CPD to the scene of the incident to see if Stahl would radio for the rest of their team to back them up, but she never did. Nor did she take time to do so after they arrived.

'Granted, things have been pretty chaotic, and the SWAT team from Sanwa is here, but I just have a bad feeling about this!'

Tyler, along with Stahl and Unser, had put on Kevlar vests at the urging of the SJSD Swat commander. They were gathered around the back of Unser's patrol car, pouring over blueprints of the building that Hale's receptionist had brought with her when she fled the office.

"That was good thinking on your part," Tyler assured the frightened office worker. "Most people would've hightailed it out of there and called from a place of safety, much less think about getting the blueprints of the building for us!"

"I did it to save my job," the office worker confided. "Not for Hale, the prick!"

"Your secret is safe with me!" Tyler grinned conspiratorially.

Now she was looking over the blueprints as the tactical commander pointed out the exits Salazar might use to escape. Just a few moments earlier, Unser and Stahl had conferred with Jax and Clay about Tara's safety before returning to the conference.

Tyler felt a twinge of sympathy for the blond biker. 'It's obvious he cares a great deal for the doctor. Wish I knew what that felt like.'

It looked to her like the entire membership of SAMCRO was present. She looked up at the sound of approaching motorcycles to see Marcus Alvarez and some of his Mayans pull up to the scene.

'This is getting dangerous!' She observed worriedly. 'Mayans and SAMCRO together in one place must mean they're all looking for Salazar for some reason!'

She mentioned the Mayans' arrival to the tactical commander. He glared at her and replied, "Not our problem. We've got enough to do with this situation!"

Stahl glared across at her and shook her head. Tyler shrugged it off and replied, "Just thought you should know the situation."

"I'll deal with the clubs, Agent Tyler," Unser assured her.

'That's not much help!' She thought to herself.

The negotiator waved for the commander's attention. He'd made contact with the hostages. He clasped his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, "Hostages OK. Hale's speaking, has a list of demands from the kidnapper."

---

"What in tarnation is Jax doin'?" Cat hollered at the television screen. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, but there was Jax walking into the office building.

As if answering her question, the Channel 2 reporter announced, "It appears that one of the demands of the kidnapper is to meet with one of the members of Charming's local motorcycle club. As you can see, the club member is walking into the office building. He is not wearing a bullet proof vest, though it appeared earlier the police wanted him to wear one and he refused."

"I've got a bad feelin' about this!" Cat moaned. She resisted the urge to call her husband. The last thing he needed to deal with was her bothering him on the two - way. 'Alex can't change anything, anyway. I just hope Jax doesn't wind up gettin' killed. Not after everything he's gone through to get his son back!'

"It's unusual for police to allow a civilian to meet with a kidnapper," the Channel 2 reporter continued.

"Duh!" Cat snarled, sliding to the edge of the recliner.

"However, it is reported that the kidnapper is a former leader of the Calavarez motorcycle club out of Lodi," the reporter went on. "Apparently there is some kind of bad feeling between the Charming club and Mr. Salazar, as the other hostage has been identified as Dr. Tara Knowles, the girlfriend of the blonde biker that just entered the building."

The reporter touched a hand to the earpiece in her ear, then nodded and added, "That biker has been identified as Jax Teller, the 'Vice President' of the Sons of Anarchy club."

---

Alvarez climbed off his bike and indicated to his officers to remain behind as he strode across the street towards Clay.

"You didn't wait for us," Alvarez stated.

"We were released," Clay shrugged. "No reason for us to hang around."

Alvarez smiled grimly and withdrew a cigar from the inner pocket of his cut. It was one of the higher quality ones he'd obtained from Zobelle in exchange for assisting the LOAN kingpin with getting out of Charming unscathed. He bit off the end and lit it, inhaling in satisfaction.

Clay eyed the cigar with interest, slightly disappointed that Alvarez didn't offer him one. He withdrew one of his own, cut off the end with his knife, then lit up and inhaled the fragrant smoke. "So what did the Lodi guys want?"

"Just tried to shake our story," Alvarez assured him. "They also mentioned Salazar had taken your nemesis hostage. Any word on your VP's girl?"

"She's inside. She's whole," Clay replied.

"That's good. What do you intend to do about our mutual problem?"

Clay gestured with his head at the bevy of uniformed and plain clothes officers. "It's a little complicated."

"Things will get more complicated if he talks to the police."

Clay's eyes narrowed angrily behind his sunglasses. "Got any suggestions, esse?"

"Not at the moment," Alvarez admitted.

Unser and Stahl walked up to the group. "The negotiator made contact, Hale gave Salazar's demands," Unser announced. "He wants to talk to Jax face to face and he'll release Tara."

"We don't recommend it," Stahl added.

"Tough. If that's what it takes to free Tara, I'm doing it!" Jax snarled, striding towards the building entrance.

"Wait a minute, son!" Unser cried, placing a hand on Jax's shoulder and shaking his head at Stahl. Stahl raised her hands in response and backed away a couple of steps.

Jax shrugged off Unser's restraining hand. "I'm going in!" He cried.

"OK. I understand. But you should put on some Kevlar. You saw what he did to Officer Allen," Unser replied.

"Beating people up is Salazar's thing. Kevlar won't do me a bit of good," Jax replied.

"Try to get him to surrender," Unser reminded him. "I need him to rat Hale out for Lumpy's death."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jax strode towards the front entrance as his step - father, his brothers, and the civilians looked on. 'I can't let Salazar live through this. There's too much at stake,' Jax thought as he opened the door and stepped inside. The frosted glass door to Hale's business loomed ahead of him. "Forgive me, Lumpy."

---

Salazar agitatedly paced the office, preparing for Jax Teller's arrival. Hale and Tara watched him warily. Hale's eyes were round with fear. Tara seemed resigned. She'd heard Salazar's threats to kill her so often that she felt immune to them. That didn't mean she didn't think he wouldn't do it, she just didn't care anymore.

Hale had tried to talk with Salazar as they waited for the police negotiator to call. Though he'd scoffed at the idea while Tara was writing down his demands, he offered to give Salazar a large amount of money to let him go. "All I want from you besides my freedom is that recording," Hale added.

Salazar snapped his fingers as if he'd just recalled something important. "Sorry, don't have it anymore. Left it with Luisa."

"Where is she? We could call her," Hale persisted.

Tara winced in anticipation of Salazar's angry reaction. He surprised her by remaining stoic over the mention of his dead girlfriend.

"She's not going to answer," Salazar retorted through gritted teeth.

"Why not?"

"Let it go, Jacob," Tara whispered. "Just let it go."

Hale gazed from Salazar's stoney features to Tara's white face and shrugged. If Salazar wasn't willing to co-operate, he could always locate the woman later and make an arrangement with her. In Hale's experience, almost everyone had a price. Some prices were just higher than others.

Salazar stalked to a bag he'd dropped on the table in Hale's office, withdrawing his knife. He gripped it in his hand so hard the knuckles turned white. He gleefully informed Tara he was going to kill her and make Jax watch, then he'd kill Jax. He slammed the knife into a thick book of print outs lying on a shelf.

Jax's form appeared in the frosted glass door. He knocked on it. Salazar pulled his gun out from the waistband of his pants and strode cockily to the door, run raised and ready. He opened the door to admit his adversary.

---

Stahl latched onto the hostage situation like a drowning man to a life-preserver. She saw it as a good opportunity to take care of her problem with Gemma Morrow's demand. She felt no qualms about killing Tyler, as far as Stahl was concerned, Tyler was of no more use to her. 'It's survival of the strongest in this business,' Stahl reminded herself. 'Tyler will just continue to drag me down. With her out of the picture, Gemma's threat to recant becomes nil.'

The problem now was getting Tyler alone away from witnesses to do the deed. So far, every time she'd tried to get them away from the assembled task force, something had come up to prevent it. First had come the arrival of the Sanwa SWAT team, then SAMCRO. Just as Stahl was about to suggest that she and Tyler take up watch on the back of the building, the demand for Salazar to meet with Jax had been issued.

Now she was leading two CPD unis and Tyler around to the back of the building. Stahl gripped her hand-held radio in an iron grip, as if she could choke the device to death. 'How can I get rid of these jokers?' She asked herself.

The broadcast from the Sanwa tactical commander gave her the answer she was seeking. She turned to the two CPD cops and directed them to join the cops at the front moving to secure Hale and the doctor while she and Tyler kept watch in the back.

The area they were standing in was perfect for Stahl's needs. There were no curious civilians or press around. With the departure of the CPD cops, it would just be her and Tyler alone at last.

Tyler glanced in consternation at her partner. 'What are you thinking?' She wondered to herself. This was certainly not the best time to send the CPD cops away, not if there was a possibility that an armed and irrational Salazar might erupt from the exit at any minute. She turned her back on Stahl and headed towards the door, taking up a defensive position to one side of it.

Stahl remained well away from the doorway, her mind working furiously. She knew there were Mayans out front with SAMCRO. 'No one but the Sons know how many Mayans are actually with Alvarez. I can say that three Hispanics shot at us, hit Tyler. I can pin it on the Mayans and get away clean! All I need is for Salazar to bust through that door to make it happen!'

---

Sanwa SWAT officers rushed into Hale's office, guns at the ready in case Jacob's call telling them Salazar had left with Jax hot on his heels had been a ruse. They found Hale and Tara handcuffed together, both looking like they'd gone through the wringer. Hale played as if he was about to faint as one of the cops unlocked the cuffs.

A team of paramedics pushed a stretcher into the office. They ignored Hale to come to Tara's aid. "Are you all right, Dr. Knowles?" One of the paramedics asked.

"I'm fine. Just tired," Tara assured him.

"Where'd they go, Dr. Knowles?" The SWAT officer who'd freed her from the handcuffs inquired.

"Down the hall. Jax took off after him," she replied as the paramedics helped her onto the stretcher.

"Hey! What about me?" Hale piped up indignantly, noticing that only one stretcher had been brought in.

The SWAT officers stared at him in surprise and disgust. "Dr. Knowles needs immediate medical attention," the unit leader retorted. "She was held captive much longer than you!" He snarled.

"But that bastard pistol whipped me!" Hale whined, pointing to his face.

One of the paramedics stayed behind to tend to Hale while the other escorted Tara out of the building. Hale's only apparent injuries was a bruise on his cheek. His heart beat was accelerated, so the paramedic decided to take him to the hospital to be checked out. "Can you walk?"

Hale attempted to stand, only to fall back onto the chair Jax had just vacated. "I - I can't! My legs are too shaky!"

"Probably shock," the paramedic observed. He keyed the microphone on his radio and announced, "I'll need another stretcher."

---

Unser overheard the tactical commander report that Salazar was dead, killed by Jax after attacking the SAMCRO VP with an axe. Clay turned his sunglass covered gaze on Unser, who sighed and radio to his uniformed officers to stand down.

Stahl had the portable radio up against her ear and winced when she heard Unser's report. Salazar getting killed inside the building didn't fit into her plans. She cursed softly, then withdrew an unregistered gun from the back of her waistband and aimed in proper police fashion with one hand holding the other steady. She fired one shot at her former lover, hitting her right in the throat in the carotid artery.

Tyler's eyes bulged in shock as she fell to the ground. She'd never considered that Stahl would attack during an event like this! She realized too late that the hostage situation was the perfect cover for a murder. She was lying on hard concrete, with no way to write any message to name Stahl as her killer.

Stahl put the radio up to her mouth and announced that three Hispanics, possibly belonging to the Mayan MC had just shot at them, pinning them down. Stahl turned the gun to one side, fired three more shots, and screamed the dreaded words "Agent down" into the radio. She scooped up the four shell casings, placing them in her pocket to dispose of later. She didn't realize that one slipped through her fingers to fall to the ground where she'd fired the shot. She ran up to Tyler's prone form, kneeling on the ground beside her. She wiped the gun clean with a handkerchief and tossed it as far as she could. Tears fell from her eyes as she brushed Tyler's hair away from her face, murmuring words of comfort but doing nothing to staunch the flow of blood.

Tyler looked up at her former lover. She was unable to speak, but her eyes reflected her feelings of anger and betrayal.

Stahl smiled grimly at the expression of hate in her former lover's eyes. She whispered for Tyler to die quickly and was rewarded by her partner's body going limp and quiet. Stahl placed her fingers just above the bullet wound. Tyler's pulse was very slow, almost non-existent.

Shouts alerted Stahl to the approach of her fellow officers. She scrunched up her face in a mask of shock and horror and screamed for help.

As Tyler's life's blood poured out of the wound, she could still hear and see what was happening around her. She couldn't help admiring Stahl's performance. The woman was good at playing a role, she'd certainly played her like a grand piano!

Tyler felt cold all over. Her vision grew foggy and dim. She sensed the arrival of her fellow officers, followed shortly by the paramedics.

"Agent Stahl! Did you see where they went?"

"Th - they ran off down the alley!" Stahl cried.

"Are you sure they were Mayans?" One of the CPD officers asked. "There were only four out front, and they've not moved."

"I said they might've been Mayans!" She hollered. "They weren't wearing cuts! Why are you standing around asking me questions? They're getting away!"

Two of the CPD officers took off down the alley. Another team of paramedics rushed up to being tending to Tyler. Stahl allowed one of the SJSD deputies to assist her to her feet and walk a few feet away from her fallen partner.

"I found a gun!" Another Sanwa deputy called out, pointing at the ground a few feet from the area where Tyler had fallen. "I don't see any shell casings, though!"

"Keep looking!" The one assisting Stahl commanded. He turned back to the agent and added, "Can you give me any more information on the shooters?"

Stahl shook her head. "It - it happened so fast. We were waiting at that door in case Salazar came through. That's when I saw the three Hispanics running up to us. Before I could warn Tyler, one fired a shot and hit Tyler. I returned fire, but they got away."

The SJSD deputy who'd found the gun cried out, "I found a shell casing! But it's over here!" He was standing in the same spot where Stahl had stood when she fired.

'Shit! If I say I fired, they'll know something isn't right when they do the ballistics!' She wondered whether to admit to firing from there or coming up with a better story. "That's where one of the snipers was standing, the one that shot Tyler. I was standing behind her. She saved my life!" Stahl babbled.

Tyler felt the press of a wad of fabric to her neck, much too late now to do any good. Her biggest regret was that she wasn't able to tell anyone what had really transpired. Stahl was getting away with murder again. 'If there's a Hell, I hope you burn there soon!' Tyler thought contemptuously.

Stahl leaned against the building, watching as the paramedics worked to try to save Tyler. She felt certain that they had arrived too late to do any good. She'd seen enough gunshot wounds in her career to know a fatal one when she fired it. She felt no remorse for what she'd done. The tears sliding down her cheeks were for show.

'It was necessary, baby. You just wouldn't keep your nose out of my business. I couldn't take the chance that you'd rat me out, and Gemma was going to recant anyway. Now she can't. I don't expect you to understand or forgive me.'

Tyler's eyes stared vacantly into space. As her heartbeat slowed, she surprised Stahl by curling all but the middle finger of one hand into a fist, offering a final gesture of defiance at her partner.

---

"We have a report that an officer has been gunned down behind the office building where Charming businessman Jacob Hale and Dr. Tara Knowles were being held hostage," the Channel 2 reporter announced. "Shots were fired just a few moments ago. We're trying to obtain more information on this latest development. Meanwhile, we have learned that both Mr. Hale and Dr. Knowles have been safely recovered, while Jax Teller has gone after their captor."

The camera operator had his lens focused on the front door, where the SWAT team had entered moments earlier. Cat was still sitting on the edge of her recliner. She knew Alex and the others were OK, they hadn't moved from their position far out of camera range. She was concerned for Tara, as the woman had been through quite an ordeal.

She relaxed when the paramedics brought Tara out on a stretcher. The doctor looked tired and pale, but otherwise fine. Cat was a bit concerned by the dried blood visible on Tara's skin. She watched as the doctor was loaded into one of the waiting ambulances, which pulled away with lights and siren blaring.

A second stretcher was taken into the building as the reporter continued her narrative. A few moments later, that same stretcher exited the building, bearing a dazed looking Jacob Hale.

"And the award for best ham in a drama goes to Hale!" Cat snorted. "What a pussy! He wasn't held hostage long enough to need medical care!" She was sure the Sons would have a big laugh at Hale's expense later, once they knew that Jax was safe.

"We've just got a report that the combined law enforcement officers are searching for three Hispanics that ambushed ATF Agents Stahl and Tyler. The assailants might be members of the Mayans motorcycle club out of Oaktown. Paramedics are working to save Agent Tyler. It's reported that Agent Stahl is unhurt."

"Bullshit! There weren't any other Mayans around!" Cat hissed. "Stahl's coverin' somethin'! I just know it!"

"We also have confirmed that the kidnapper, Hector Salazar, is dead. He attacked Jax Teller, used a knife in self defense to kill the kidnapper after Salazar attacked Teller with an axe. Teller received a minor injury and is being taken to the hospital for treatment," the Channel 2 reporter announced.

The camera zoomed in on a quartet of SWAT officers escorting Jax from the building. He was holding one arm away from him, his hoodie was now wrapped around his forearm. He climbed into a waiting ambulance.

"For those of you just joining us -"

Cat turned off the television and relaxed against the chair back. Her head hurt and she felt as if she'd just run a marathon. She was too tired to get up out of the recliner, so she stretched out in it and closed her eyes.

'Alex won't be back for awhile. He'll probably hang around the hospital until they know for sure that Tara and Jax are OK. Then Clay will probably want to hold a meetin' to discuss what happened. I'll be surprised if he gets in before midnight.'

Alvarez wasn't pleased to be questioned about Agent Tyler's shooting. He and his four companions were questioned by SJSD for some time. The deputies insisted that Agent Stahl had identified three Mayans as the shooters.

"I've told you already, none of my club shot at the agents! I only brought these three with me!" Alvarez insisted. He glared angrily at Stahl, who stood slightly away from the group. She stared back at him unflinchingly.

"Pardon me," Unser spoke up at last. "I distinctly heard the radio call Stahl made. She reported the shooters might've been Mayans."

Stahl flashed a warning glare at Unser. He merely smiled and shrugged her warning off. 'There's nothing you can do to me anymore, sweetheart. My career's already in the shitter. This is one time you're not going to use the clubs as your whipping boys!'

Clay also spoke up in the Mayans defense. "Alvarez has been with us most of the day; I can attest that he only had those three riders with him."

"But he pulled up several minutes after you got here!" Stahl insisted. "Plenty of time to call a few of his 'brothers' to come out here!"

"No, they were being questioned by Lodi CSI on another matter," Unser stated. "I was there before getting called away to this." He held up his hand to halt Stahl's protest. "I don't doubt you saw Hispanics flee the scene, Agent Stahl. I just doubt that they were Mayans."

"Yeah," Tig added gruffly. "Who's to say they weren't Calavarez doing a favor for Salazar? Though it's hard to believe possible, he could've had a few friends left in that club."

"How about it, Agent Stahl?" Lieutenant Roosevelt inquired. "Could they have been Calavarez?" He had to consider the possibility, even though it a little too polished to him. There were many things about Agent Tyler's murder that seemed a little 'off' to him.

"I don't know!" Stahl yelled angrily. "They weren't wearing cuts!"

"And to you gringas, we Hispanics all look alike!" Alvarez growled.

The Mayans and the Sons enjoyed a good laugh at that remark at Stahl's expense. Stahl glared angrily at them, but knew she couldn't continue to insist on pinning blame on the Mayans. There was too much evidence to the contrary.

"I suppose it's possible that the Calavarez were involved," Stahl reluctantly agreed. "I admit that I was more concerned about my partner at the time."

Roosevelt turned his back on Stahl. "You're all free to go, then. I might have questions for you later, so don't leave the county."

Alvarez huffed and turned away from Roosevelt, muttering something uncomplimentary in his native Spanish. The Mayans and the Sons walked to their bikes while Roosevelt led a reluctant Stahl away.

"There's nothing more we're going to get out of them," Roosevelt explained.

"Letting them go will just give them time to coordinate their statements!" Stahl protested.

"Everything they've said checked out. The body of Salazar's girlfriend, the one Dr. Knowles attacked, was found near the dump site beside Highway 18. So was the body of Officer Laurie Allen. Salazar killed her and took her car. The Sons and the Mayans reported the find," Roosevelt explained.

"I heard about that," Stahl admitted.

"Not a good day for cops," Roosevelt growled.

"I supposed not," Stahl sighed.

"Look, you've had a nasty shock. Go debrief with your superiors. We'll be here awhile. I don't see a need for you to stay."

Stahl nodded and walked slowly away from Roosevelt. She was anxious to get the debriefing behind her and have a stiff drink or two. She couldn't get the sight of Tyler flipped the bird at her out of her mind. It had been totally unlike her.

'Gemma won't dare recant now,' she assured herself.

---

Kozik leaned against the side of the picnic table, gazing across the compound at Tig. The SAMCRO SAA was sitting on one of the brand new swings in the play area, gazing down at something he held in his hand. He had just removed it from his wallet, which swung from its' chain attached to his jeans.

Despite the distance separating them, Kozik knew what Tig held in his hands. It was a picture of Missy that he'd carried around for years. It was the same picture that Tig had proudly shown Kozik the other night at the Trager's house.

"Cat ran this through her scanner, put it in a frame, and added it to her pet memorial wall," Tig had explained with pride, showing off the memorial wall to his friend.

Missy's picture was set in a simple silver and glass frame, and occupied a central space amongst the felines and the one lone collie/spaniel mix displayed in their computer room.

"She doesn't mind ya mopin' about the girl on a daily basis?" Kozik inquired.

Tig scowled at his one - time nemesis, then slapped him on the back. "Nah. She's cool about that shit. She found me mournin' Missy in the back yard just after we hooked up. She didn't poke fun at me, or tell me it was time to get over it, just made this addition to her memorial wall." Tig waved at the framed pictures surrounding Missy and added, "She says she thinks and misses every one of 'em every day herself."

That told Kozik a lot more about the depth of Cat's commitment to Tig. 'Not a lot of people would be that understandin'. Not about somethin' goin' on this long!' Kozik lit a cigarette and drew deeply on it. 'I loved her a lot, but after eight years, a guy goes on!'

"Sorry about the vote, Koz," Clay rumbled. He'd exited the clubhouse, intent on getting home to Gemma when he spied the Tacoma SAA leaning against the picnic table. "After the way you two were actin' earlier today, I thought ya'd buried the hatchet for good!"

"We did," Kozik replied. "There's just some things Tig can't let go of. I can understand that."

Clay gazed intently at Kozik. "Are ya tellin' me he's still carryin' on about that damn dog? That's why he voted against the patch?" He slammed his hand on the picnic table in frustration. "That is such bullshit! We don't have a fourth man on account of a dog! I'll set him straight!"

Kozik placed his hand on Clay's shoulder, halting the SAMCRO Prez before he could take a step in Tig's direction. "Don't, Clay."

"Give me one good reason why not!"

"Missy was the only creature on the planet that ever gave Tig unconditional love - at least until he hooked up with Cat. Before her, he had no one. Then he found Missy and she gave him the love he craved."

"Yeah, I was there, remember?" Clay growled.

"A man like Tig doesn't give up on that kind of loyalty on a dime. He's carried this torch for eight years; he feels like patchin' me in would be disloyal to Missy's memory."

"Are you nuts?" Clay grumbled. "That is complete and total bullshit! The club's best interests shouldn't be derailed by a dumb dog!"

Kozik's eyes narrowed in anger. "Missy wasn't dumb, Clay! I loved her, too, remember!"

"Yeah, but ya aren't jeopardizin' us by carryin' on like a loon over her!" Clay insisted.

"I seem to remember ya warnin' Miles to be careful with Gem's bird," Kozik replied, desperate to get Clay to see things from Tig's point of view.

"Yeah? So what?"

"Well, Gem takes on about that bird like Tig has over Missy."

"It's not the same thing!"

"It is exactly the same thing. Some people don't think of their pets as mere animals. They think of 'em as a member of the family. To Tig, Missy was his 'girl'."

Clay rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me that sick fuck did the dog!"

Kozik nearly choked on his cigarette. "Fuck, no! It wasn't like that! Tig's sexually warped, but he's not that bad!"

"So you're sayin' he's goin' on about the dog as if she were his child?" Clay asked.

"Kinda like that." Kozik dropped the cigarette on the concrete and ground it out under his boot. "Lemme ask ya somethin', would ya be annoyed like this if Tig had voted against me because he still mourned one of the twins I'd accidentally killed?"

Clay thought that over for a moment, stroking his chin with one hand. "I guess not."

"Look, I'll hang around to help out with the plan," Kozik assured him.

"What about after?"

Kozik shrugged. "I dunno. Tig suggested I patch in with the transfers. That feels like a bitch move to me."

"No, it makes sense. By that time, you'll only have Chibs, Piney, and Ope. The Prospects are nowhere near ready to be patched. There's a part of the charter that covers shit like this. If they transfer ya in under the hardship clause - and by then the club's definitely gonna be in a hardship - three yay votes will get ya in."

Kozik shook his head. "I dunno, Clay. It still feels like a pussy move."

Clay clapped the Tacoma SAA on the back. "It's not. It's perfectly legit. Ope will be actin' Prez. Chibs his VP/Secretary. Piney's too old to be of any use as SAA. You're experienced. Ope will need that while we're in Stockton."

"A'right, I'll think it over." Kozik replied.

"You do that. I'm goin' home. Won't have much more time with Gem and wanna make the most of it. See ya at the breakfast."

"G'nite, Clay." Kozik watched Clay stride across the parking lot to his bike. He didn't relax until Clay started his Harley and rode out of the compound. He sighed and turned his gaze back to Tig. He had relit the joint; the thin smoke was curling out from his mouth towards the ground. Tig was slumped over with his elbows on his knees. Kozik could tell by the way the SAA's body was shaking that he had worked himself up.

Kozik dug out his cellphone and pressed one of the contacts, holding the burner to his ear. "C'mon, kitten! Answer the phone!"

"Hullo?" Cat's sleep thick voice announced on the last ring before the call would've forwarded to voice mail.

"Sorry to wake ya, kitten. It's Koz."

"Hey! I had to wake up to answer the phone anyway," she assured him. Her voice was a little less thick from sleep. "Everyone OK?"

"Piney's still at the cabin; Jax and Tara prolly still at the hospital. Tig needs ya, darlin'."

Those words chased the sleep out of Cat's system. She was instantly alert, her heart racing with dread. "What happened?"

"We had another vote. He couldn't get past Missy."

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry, Koz!" Cat replied sincerely. "It really seemed like all y'all were bondin'."

Kozik shrugged. "We have, but it's gonna take time for him, darlin'. He's worked up and fucked up."

"'Shrooms?"

"Nah. Pot."

Cat sighed with relief. "Pot induced depression I can handle. Those trippin' 'shrooms are a nightmare! Do y'all mind stayin' around until I get there?"

"You're comin' out on your own?" Kozik asked sharply.

"How else am I goin' to get there? Fly?" Cat retorted.

"I figured ya'd wait for Ima to come get ya! I was gonna call her."

"By the time y'all do that and she gets here, I can get there and retrieve my man," Cat explained.

"Shit! I hate it when you're right!" Kozik sighed. "A'right. Do ya know how to get to the back gate?"

"Tig gave me a key some time ago, just in case," she assured him. "I'm on the way."

---

Tara had been checked out in the ER, due to the amount of dried blood on her. A nurse helped her clean the blood from her arms and neck, then supplied her with a clean top.

Jax listened intently from the next stretcher as she described how she'd been treated by Salazar and Luisa during her captivity. A doctor had stitched the self - inflicted axe wound on his arm. A nurse had prepared a tetanus shot, as it'd been a long time since he'd last had one. 'I feel like killin' that rat bastard all over again!' He was so angry for his woman that he barely felt the sting of the needle.

"I'm going to refer you for an immediate sonograms, Dr. Knowles, just as precaution," the doctor treating Tara explained.

"Can I go with her?" Jax inquired.

"You're the father?" The doctor parried.

"Of course!" He replied proudly.

The doctor cast an inquiring gaze at Tara. She nodded assent. It was obvious to her that Gemma had spilled the beans, but she wasn't upset about it. Jax had come to her rescue again. Whatever it was that had driven him to try to drive her away had been removed by his ordeal in rescuing Abel and nearly losing her.

Jacob Hale had already been treated for his minor injury, but he continued to act weak and shaken from his ordeal. He wanted to be admitted for observation, but the doctor treating him saw no reason for it. "Your vital signs are normal, the skull X - rays show no damage. I've already signed your release papers."

An orderly brought a wheel chair to Hale's ER cubicle at his own request. "I'm much too upset and shaken to walk, much less stand outside to wait for a cab!" He had a reason for wanting the wheelchair. He'd texted the news agencies while en route to the hospital, offering to give them an eyewitness account of the drama in his office from the hospital. He knew the reporters wouldn't be able to resist the story, and he wanted to give them a spectacular show.

'It would've been better coming from a hospital bed, but a wheelchair will work just as well!'

The orderly rolled him into the main entrance, where a reporter from Channel 10, a radio reporter, and the newspaper reporter were waiting. Hale was inwardly disappointed by the low turnout, but he forced himself to hide his disappointment as he spoke with the reporters.

Jax and Tara were all smiles after the sonograms. The baby was in fine shape, and they now had a picture of the small form. They walked down the hall towards the main entrance. The sonograms tech had returned Tara's purse to her, compliments of Margaret Murphy.

"How is she?" Tara asked.

"She's fine. She came back to work this morning," the tech assured her.

Margaret was standing next to Chief Unser, witnessing Hale's impromptu press conference. Her face lit up when she spotted Tara in the hall. She'd called her husband the minute she'd heard the news about the hostage situation, explaining she was staying at the hospital until Tara was brought in - one way or the other.

The two women embraced each other like old friends. Jax walked away to give them some privacy, marveling how much things had changed between the two women. 'They were bitter enemies just a few days ago!'

He stopped beside Unser, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the situation he'd left the police chief in. "I'm sorry about having to kill Salazar," he stated simply.

"You had no choice," Unser acknowledged. "There's no way Oswald is going to be able to beat Hale now."

Jax nodded agreement. After tomorrow, he wouldn't be around for the first few months of Hale's assured Mayoral turn. "What will you do?"

"Retire, I guess," Unser replied. "Not much call for an ex police chief around here."

Jax winced sympathetically.

"Don't worry about it, kid. I'm lucky to still be around as it is. I've had a good run," Unser assured the outlaw.

Jax steered the conversation to a safer topic by mentioning the breakfast Gemma was hosting at the clubhouse. "You should come," he added.

Unser's face lit up with joy. "I'll be there!"

---

Cat fed the cats, then used their attention on their meal to slip out the door to the PT. She raced to the Teller - Morrow lot, using the remote Alex had given her to gain access through the back gate. She turned out the lights as she piloted the Cruiser towards the clubhouse, parking next to the row of bikes, directly in front of Alex's Dyna.

"Thanks for waitin', Koz," she murmured as the Tacoma outlaw opened her car door and assisted her out of it.

"No worries, darlin'. He's still pretty fucked up. I know how ya feel about buzzed ridin'."

"Go on home to your lady, Koz. I've got this."

"You sure?"

Cat nodded. "Go on. I'll see ya at the breakfast in the mornin'."

"I'm lookin' forward to tryin' one of those Snicker Bar Muffins Tig raves about!"

"Providin' y'all can get one past my boy!" She laughed.

"I can handle that," Kozik grinned wickedly. He strode to his Harley and mounted it. Before he put on his helmet he called softly, "Hey, Cat!"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for not callin' me by my first name."

Cat grinned back at him. "You're welcome, bucko. Ride safe."

She waited until Kozik started his bike and pulled away from the railing to approach Alex. He didn't look up at the sound of the Harley roaring away. He was still slumped over his knees. She could see that his face red from his emotions.

She walked quietly into the play area, not wanting to startle Alex and cause him embarrassment. She gingerly eased herself into the swing next to him and waited without moving the swing.

"Hey," he sighed, glancing out the side of his eye at her. "What the fuck are ya doin' here?"

Instead of getting insulted at his greeting, she replied softly, "Hey back, love. Just had a feelin' that y'all might need a friend."

"Bullshit!" He growled menacingly. "Who called ya?"

"Can't keep anything from y'all, can I?" She retorted.

"Nope, and ya really oughta quit tryin'," he informed her.

"Not gonna happen, love." She grinned. "You're missin' her."

"Yeah. And I feel like a shit for lettin' my friend down," he admitted.

"He understands, love," she assured him. "Why do y'all think he called to tell me you were in a bad place?"

"Koz did that?"

"Well, I didn't read your mind, love!"

Alex glared at her, waiting for her to drop a sarcastic snark at his expense. He relaxed when it didn't come.

"Somebody once told me there's a time and a place for everything. Now is not the time for bein' a snark," she stated.

"Thanks, baby." He turned away to look down at the ground beneath him.

Cat rose from the swing and walked around behind him, slipping her arms through his to link her hands over his chest. She leaned against his back as she nuzzled the back of his neck. "Wanna tell me about it?"

Alex's hands went up to cover hers. "Yeah, but not here."

She tightened her embrace and whispered, "Wanna go home? I'm sure that doobie y'all inhaled is gonna give you a case of the hungries in a few. There's crock pot roast ready and waitin'."

"Sounds good. How'd ya get here?"

"I drove," she replied.

Instead of getting upset as she expected, he sighed in resignation. "Guess that's better than ridin' your bike. Don't suppose you're gonna let me follow ya home?"

"Hell, no!" She exclaimed, standing up and slapping him playfully on the back. "Y'all know how I feel about operatin' motor vehicles while buzzed!"

Alex stood up and turned around to face her. He gave her his most menacing look. "What the fuck do ya think I did before ya came along, woman?"

"Took stupid chances by ridin' while buzzed," she retorted quickly. She grinned at his scowling countenance. "No need for that now that y'all have me!"

"Lucky me," Alex grinned, flinging an arm around her shoulder and adjusting his stride to her limp. They walked arm in arm to the Black Beauty. He opened the driver's door for her and watched until she reluctantly secured the seat belt before he got into the passenger seat beside her.

"Take me home, baby," he sighed contentedly.