CP BK III Ch IX Home Isn't Always a Good Place

by wanderingchat

Cat gets her 'day away from the insanity' as SAMCRO battles crank dealers wanting to move into the Rogue River scripto scene. Gemma, upset over over committing her father to the nursing home makes a deal with the devil to come home to see him.

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, with the exception of Mr. Gerard Butler. Similarities to any real persons are pure coincidence.

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

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

Charming Pawse

Book III

Chapter IX

Home

Isn't Always a Good Place

Just as Gerry and his driver stepped into the back area of the coffeehouse, the front door entry bell tinkled, signaling the arrival of a new customer.

Cat started to follow the pair, intending to allow Miss Anna to tend to the customer. A familiar voice stopped her in mid step and brought a pained expression to her face.

"Hold it right there, Marshall! I want a word with you!" Agent Stahl shouted across the customer area.

"With her, it's never just a word!" Cat moaned.

"Trouble, Lady Cat?" Gerry inquired, noting the pained expression on her face.

"Sort of. You two go ahead to the house. I'll handle this," she sighed.

Miss Anna slipped next to her. "Miss Cat, it's that woman, again! Want me to have Christopher show her out?"

"No. I'll take care of it. You just take care of business," Cat replied reassuringly. She turned around and walked to the counter, watching Stahl's approach.

The two customers glanced up from their books, curious about the source of the noise. When they saw the ATF agent, they raised their eyes to the Heavens, and looked back down at their books, pretending to be interested in their reading. They knew Cat had little love for Stahl, and waited with anticipation for the hissing contest to begin.

"Y'all have got one Hell of a lot of nerve comin' in here after the stunt y'all pulled!" Cat snarled angrily.

"Not you, too! Is everyone associated with SAMCRO delusional?" Stahl retorted.

"Your lies the other day caused enough damage, but what you did outta spit that night is unforgivable!" Cat hissed.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Stahl countered. Her wide eyed stare gave her thoughts away. Cat had developed the ability to 'read' people's expressions, and Stahl's eyes revealed her guilt better than any polygraph. 'How in the Hell did she find out I had anything to do with the alert?'

Cat leaned forward and whispered so the customers and her employees wouldn't hear, "I have my ways of learnin' what I need to know. Abel would safe and back with his family by now if you hadn't abused your authority. If it wouldn't be the waste of perfectly good wood, I'd put the baseball bat to good use!"

'She might still have that damn thing under the counter for all I know!' The pure hatred in Cat's expression made Stahl take an involuntary step back from the counter. "Still a smart ass!"

"At least I've got brains!" Cat retorted. The customers snickered, causing Stahl to turn an angry glare at them. They pretended to be thoroughly engrossed in their reading.

Instead of returning to the house, Gerry signaled for the driver to follow him into the office. He'd seen the security monitor during the tour, and wanted to see for himself how Cat handled the unruly customer. 'Sumthin' tells me this culd be educayshunal! Sounds lyke tha woman is a cop, an' isnae a frien' o' tha club!'

Stahl turned her attention from the customers back to her quarry. "I suppose you don't know anything about the Sons leaving town today," she snarled.

"Actually, I do know about it," Cat replied sweetly. "They're doin' a charity run, then headin' out for some huntin'."

"Like Hell!"

Cat wrinkled her nose, inwardly enjoying the other woman's distress. "OK, maybe I spoke in error. Maybe it was fishin'. Either way, they've definitely gone outta town."

"You honestly expect me to believe that cock and bull story?" Stahl challenged.

"Believe what you want, Stahl. You will anyway, so why waste time and energy?" Cat sighed. "As much as you might enjoy playing '20 Questions', I've got far better things to do, like takin' a high colonic."

More snickers erupted from the customers. Miss Anna smothered her own laugh behind a sudden bout of coughing.

Gerry turned up the volume on the monitor and shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation. He grinned at her stating a preference for a laxative to talking to her adversary. "Who is tha' woman, ennyway?"

"I don't know, sir. I'm sure we'll find out before long," the driver replied.

Stahl leaned forward on the counter, bringing her face as close as possible to Cat's. "You don't find it a co – incidence that SAMCRO would leave town a day after Dr. Knowles?"

Cat put her hand under her chin, rubbing it as if in deep thought then shook her head. "Nope. Sorry. People leave town all the time for various and sundry reasons."

"C'mon, Marshall! You're a smart woman! Tara Knowles took personal time from the hospital and left town last night. Now SAMCRO has left town. Both of them headed North! That doesn't seem suspicious to you?"

Cat shrugged. "I really don't see any reason to question it. Dr. Knowles is Jax's old lady. Did it occur to you that she has friends outside of town who happen to live somewhere North?"

"Not according to her dossier," Stahl retorted without thinking.

Cat shivered inwardly to learn that Stahl had a dossier on Tara. 'I figured she'd have one on the club, didn't think she'd get one on the women, especially Tara. That means she probably has one on me, too. Won't do her any good, though."

She straightened her shoulders and continued, "I just don't see any reason to get your drawers in a wad over the departure of some people who know each other and happen to be heading in the same direction."

"You wouldn't, naturally!"

"Hah! I can't help but wonder if y'all would be as upset if they'd gone South or East!"

"They went North, and that means they're going after Gemma. That's Federal sweetheart!" Stahl insisted.

"Put a penny on your tone arm needle, Stahl. Less skippin' over that same old tune," Cat groaned. "Last time I checked, it's not a crime for people to leave town and head in any direction, includin' North."

"There is if they're going to help Gemma evade the law!" Stahl quickly countered.

"Me - yow! Look who's been sharpenin' her claws!" Cat smirked, shaking her head in mock pity. "Y'all are really losin' it, Stahl! Maybe someone oughta have the Feds send y'all to the company shrink for a check up. You're obsessed with conspiracies that don't exist."

Stahl's eyes narrowed angrily. "You'd best play ball with me, darlin'. I could make it very difficult for you to get that contract with Stockton!"

"And waste the taxpayers' money you've already spent to push it through the system? That might not go over well given the state of government finances. I might be goin' out on a thin limb with this, but I don't think you're that stupid!" Cat snorted, effectively calling the agent's bluff.

Stahl's face turned beet red as her hands clenched into useless fists. "Just wait, Ms. Marshall! Your precious club is going to get what's coming to them for helping Gemma escape. And I'll be the one doling out the punishment."

Cat brought her hands together in mock applause. "And the award for worst repeat performance goes to Agent Stahl!" Miss Anna and the customers snickered into their hands.

"Aygunt? Ahs in Federal?" Gerry asked the driver.

"I believe so, sir."

"Whew! Lady Cat doesna seem ta lyke 'er, and tha feelin' seems ta be mutual! Boot Lady Cat 'as tha upper 'and. She thins fast an' doesna gie tha aygunt enny murcy."

"It's obvious this was a waste of time!" Stahl seethed.

"You're learnin' at long last! Just took y'all long enough to figure it out," Cat retorted. She turned to Miss Anna and added, "Be sure to call the attorney and have him request a no trespass order, would y'all? She's a detriment to the business!"

"I wouldn't say that, Miss Cat!" One of the customers called out. "This particular floor show has been very entertaining!"

"The entertainment is intended for karaoke and open mike nights, not the business day!" Cat growled. "Don't forget the Rocky Horror nights!" The other customer added.

"That's why I'd prefer things to be a little more relaxin' for the customers durin' the day!"

Stahl glared at her nemesis, then turned on her heel and stalked to the door. She stopped just in front of it, as if considering firing off a parting verbal shot. Then she opened the door and strode out to her car.

Cat watched her departure, noting for future reference that the agent wasn't driving a departmental car. 'Her personal vehicle? No wonder she's grumpy! Didn't realize the demotion went that deep!' She slumped against the counter, resting her forehead against the cool top.

"You OK, Miss Cat?" Miss Anna asked worriedly.

Cat nodded, straightening from the counter. "Yeah. Matchin' wits with Stahl always wears me out."

"Seems to me that she's not a match for you," Christopher observed. He'd witnessed most of the conversation between his employer and the agent when he brought a pan of clean, dried dishes and cups back to the counter.

"True, darlin'. That's why she wears me out," Cat replied. "I'm outta here, kids."

"Bye, Miss Cat!" they called out.

Cat stepped through the doorway and walked straight into a solid chest. "Oof!"

"Aire ye a'right, Lady Cat?" Gerry asked, grabbing her by the shoulders to prevent her from falling on her butt from the force of the collision.

"Y'all surprised me! I thought all y'all left! Where the Hell did y'all come from, anyway?"

"Um, yer office. Ah watched ye dealin' wi' tha lady cop. Yer attitude aboot 'er is diffrunt from tha way ye honoured tha Deputy Chief."

"He deserved the honor. Agent Stahl is not what I consider an honorable cop. Innocent people get hurt whenever she's in town," Cat growled.

She led the two men out the back door and back across the lawn. Her head ached from confronting Stahl. She sank gingerly into one of the metal chairs and withdrew her last strawberry cigarillo from her pocket.

"Why don't y'all go on inside? I'll be in shortly."

Gerry handed the merchandise bag to the driver. "Why dinna ye tayke these ta tha car, then coom on back inside tha hoose? I'd lyke ta sit oot 'ere wi' Lady Cat."

"Yes, sir," the driver nodded and headed for the gate leading to the driveway.

Gerry settled into the chair next to hers, watching through hooded eyes as she lit the cigarillo and inhaled deeply. "Smells lyke incense! Ifn' tha's whut thay're doin' wi' tobaccho, Ah may start up agin."

"Don't y'all dare! Quittin's tough without backslidin'!" Cat turned her face in his direction in order to glare at him. "Tig would have a fit if he saw this, doesn't like when I smoke cause I quit cold turkey decades ago."

"Then why aire ye smokin', darlin'?"

"Because I can and because it annoys the Hell out of Tig!" she grinned, inhaling and quickly exhaling another plume. "The aroma is more what helps calm me than the act itself. Stahl always tests my temper, and I have a wee bit of one."

"I wuldnae kin ifn ye hadnae told me," Gerry mused, his eyes twinkling with merriment.

"Wise guy!"

"Ye really dislyke tha woman," he observed. "Ah culd tell by yer expression."

"There's no love on either side. It's nothin' to worry about. I keep hopin' she'd realize that the club's women aren't weak links, but she insists on pickin' at us like an old scab."

"Yuck! Tha's verra descriptive!" Gerry winced. "Ah got tha impresshun tha' wasnae tha furst tyme ye two 'ave butted 'eads."

"It's not. It probably won't be the last, either." She pulled out her Iphone and checked the quick memo app she'd activated before she'd confronted Stahl. Though Alex assured her it wasn't necessary to record her conversations with Stahl, Cat felt more secure having it. She reviewed the recording and labeled it for future reference.

"Ach! Smart woman! Ah didnae thin' ennyone wuld record sumthin' lyke that."

"Most people probably wouldn't. Maybe it's paranoid of me, I just feel better havin' the recordin'," Cat replied, recounting her first encounter with Stahl and her efforts to make sure Tig know she hadn't given anything away to the agent.

"Do tha men expect sech a thin frum all thair women?"

Cat shook her head. "More research, Gerry?"

He nodded.

"I can't give you a concrete answer. It surprised the Hell outta Tig when I called him on the two - way so he could listen in during my first exposure to Stahl."

"Yet ye do it ennyway."

"Guess it's an old habit from my reporter days. Havin' tape rollin' was just somethin' I did to keep the facts straight and to have backup."

"Maykes sense." He gazed out over the yard to allow her a few moments peace. "Ah 'ave a proposition ta mayke, Lady Cat," he eventually offered.

"Oh?" she grinned slyly, her one eyebrow disappearing into her fringe.

"Noot tha' kin o' proposithun! Aire ye crazy, woman? Ah dinnae wanna mayke yer auld man angry!" he retorted.

She snapped her fingers in the traditional 'oh darn!' gesture. "What's the offer, then?"

"Ah 'ave tha car oot front, an' jest bought tha bike. Tha driver is gonna 'ave no one ta keep 'im company while Ah'm ridin'. Since yer takin' tha day oof ennyway, why not use me car?"

"Well, June was gonna drive me to Stockton later for a good ole fashioned 'Tarts Night Out'," Cat replied. "That's what our fan group called our monthly get - togethers."

'Sumtimes it's better fer a mon ta act lyke 'e unnerstands than ta ask questions.' Gerry cleared his throat and shifted in the chair. "Ah've bin stayin' in Stockton, doin' a leetle research inna tha prison and life there. Yer two culd tayke me car, noot 'ave ta worry aboot drivin'."

Cat stubbed out the cigarillo in the ashtray. "Why don't I ask June, see what she thinks?" She started to get up when her cell phone let loose with Gerry's version of 'Music of the Night'. She hurriedly dug it from her jacket pocket to glance at the caller id.

Gerry grinned at her choice of ring tone, but refrained from commenting when he saw the concerned expression on her face. "Do ye need privacy fer this?"

"No, it's not Tig. It's one of the other 'old ladies'. We kinda support each other with this life. Y'all might as well stay put and add to your research."

Tara had been feeling emotional all day, which she couldn't attribute to sympathizing with Gemma's feelings about committing Nate to the nursing home. She'd finally used the package she'd bought at the pharmacy and the results had left her with mixed emotions.

She didn't agree with Clay's insistence on keeping Gemma in the dark about Abel. 'I understand why they're doing it, and that they want to wait until she's safely across the border to tell her. I'm just afraid that the longer they wait, the harder it will be to tell her.'

She'd made her feelings clear to them on the matter, and knew there was no sense in beating a dead horse. There was still a lot of work to do and little time to do it.

She got up with Gemma in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. "Daddy's in his study, guess he's taking a last look around. He knows today's his last day here," Gemma murmured.

"You're doing the right thing, Gemma, by not putting off his move."

"You think so?"

Tara nodded. "There's no doubt that you love him, but you're not trained to deal with his dementia. It'll just tear you up inside more than it already has. I can see the signs of strain you're hiding from the men."

"That's because you're a physician and know what to look for," Gemma replied wryly. "Men, even doctors, aren't as perceptive."

Tara grimaced. "Maybe. I know you wanted to stay with him a few more days to make the transition easier. It's got to be disappointing to have the men decide otherwise."

"You learn to roll on the road this life gives you and deal with the potholes."

Tara frowned intently. "Pothole? That was a damn dip! Why didn't you tell them what you wanted to do?"

"Because they're right. They wouldn't have come all the way up here just to visit. Too much risk. We have to leave this place. If Stahl hadn't been demoted, she'd have followed them here. I'm survived she didn't have you or them tailed."

"If she wasn't being watched so closely, she would have," Tara acknowledged. "Her supervisor has her on a very tight reign. I image she's gonna give Cat and Lyla a hard time when she finds out SAMCRO left town today."

"Cat can take care of Stahl with one hand," Gemma snorted, her reference to the woman's injury a clear indication of her opinion of Stahl's abilities. "I'm not so sure about Lyla. She's never gone up against Stahl."

"Lyla knows to call on Cat if she needs help. We've sorta formed an 'old ladies support group'," Tara admitted.

"Good for you three! Wish I'd had somethin' like that back in the beginning. Beats learnin' by trial and error." She sighed and entered the bedroom Tig had slept in, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the bloody bedsheets. "Before we leave, remind me to either wash those or toss 'em. Don't wanna leave anything like that behind."

Lyla looked up from her coffee cup with a small frown at the insistent knocking on the door. 'Who in the Hell could it be at this hour? None of the girls from the studio would be up this early!'

She peeked out the spy hole in the solid outer door, her frown intensifying at the sight of Agent Stahl standing in front of it. "Shit!" she whispered. "What the Hell does that bitch want?"

Stahl rapped again on the door. "I know somebody's there! The car in the driveway is a dead giveaway!"

Lyla fought against panic, backed quietly from the door and rushed to her purse for her cell phone, pressing the number she'd stored for Cat's cell.

"What's up, darlin'?" Cat inquired warmly, putting her phone on speaker so Gerry could hear.

"I'm sorry to bother you. I've got trouble. Stahl's at my front door and won't go away!" Lyla explained hurriedly, holding out the phone as another series of harsh raps sounded on the front door.

"That woman's worse than a dog lookin' for an old buried bone that it forgot where it's buried, diggin' up everythin'!" Cat snorted in exasperation. "She was just at the coffeehouse a minute ago givin' me the third degree about the guys and Tara leavin' town, Gemma, and everythin' else on that miserable excuse for a mind of hers."

"What am I gonna do?"

"Step outside the house and confront her. Go on the immediate offense. Yes, 'all know the guys left town and they headed North, likely huntin', fishin', or campin'. No, y'all don't see anythin' suspicious about Tara leavin' town yesterday. No, y'all don't know a thing about Gemma's whereabouts, and y'all wouldn't tell her if y'all did. Then tell her unless she's got a frackin' warrant, to get her bony ass off y'all's property before you call in a complaint that she's trespassin'."

Lyla smiled at the thought of putting the tenacious Federal agent in her place. "You make it sound so easy!"

"It is. Just don't try to go much beyond that. You're a strong woman, Lyla. Y'all can handle Stahl. If y'all wanna keep your phone on speaker and slip it in your pocket, I'll be glad to listen in."

"Would you?" Lyla nearly gushed with gratitude. "I'd appreciate it."

"Sure," Cat replied, selecting the quick memo app on her Iphone and pressing record.

Gerry glanced questioningly at her. She held up her index finger to indicate she'd explain later. "Go ahead, kitten. I'm all attention."

Lyla took a deep breath and walked resolutely to the door, opened it, and stepped outside, nearly chest butting the agent.

"Aren't you going to invite me inside?" Stahl inquired, her eyes wide with surprise at the porn star's aggressive move. 'I didn't expect this from her! Maybe she's more old lady material than I thought!'

"No," Lyla replied authoritatively. Having Cat listening in gave her confidence a boost she'd needed. "Whatever you have to say can said on the lawn."

"Well, the sex kitten thinks she has sharp claws!" Stahl taunted.

"If you don't get the point, you'll find out how sharp they are!" Lyla countered, her confidence growing by leaps and bounds.

Cat smirked approvingly at Lyla's retort. 'Good girl!'

'Something tells me this is going to be as non productive as my interview with that Marshall woman. But this one could be the weakest link of the bunch. She could crack if I play my cards right.' Stahl folded her arms cross her chest and looked Lyla over, using her most intimidating gaze.

"If you're here about the guys leaving town," Lyla continued, quickly filling the silence, "I know they're heading North for some relaxation. I'd say they're entitled after all the shit you caused!"

Gerry winced at Lyla's comment. 'Tha' hadda 'urt!'

"Cat Marshall must've warned you I'd be coming to question you," Stahl accused. "You can't be this strong on your own."

"I don't need her - or any of the other old ladies - to help me fight!" Lyla exclaimed, feeling her backbone become as hard as steel. "What you did is unconscionable. If I were you, I'd tread very lightly around Charming! Now unless you have a warrant, get the Hell off my property before I call CPD and have you charged with trespass!"

Lyla turned on her heel and strode into the house, slamming the door shut behind her. She felt a sense of strong satisfaction in the solid sound of the door closing. She turned the lock and leaned against the door frame.

"Whew! I'm glad that's over with!" she sighed, digging her cell phone from her bra where she'd stashed it. "How'd I do?"

"Purrfect!" Cat assured her in her best Eartha Kitt purr. "Opie will be proud of y'all."

"But he's never gonna hear it, though I'll bet he hears all about it!" Lyla exclaimed. "Stahl will probably try to fill his heads with lies about what we discussed."

"If she does, send him to me. I have the whole thing on my memo app," Cat assured her. "I've got all y'all's back."

Lyla heard the sound of a car door slam and an engine rev to live. She peeked out the spy hole to witness Stahl's personal vehicle back from the drive. "She's gone!"

"Unfortunately, like the bad penny, she'll turn up again," Cat advised her. "Be prepared for anything that bitch on wheels dishes up."

"I owe you one, Cat. Thanks for the help."

"Anytime, darlin'."

Cat pressed the 'end call' button and turned off the quick memo app. She shoved her Iphone back in her jacket pocket and extinguished the end of the cigarillo in the nearby ashtray.

"Tha' wuz enlitenin'!" Gerry mused.

"Stahl's never gonna give up tryin' to use the women of the club against the men," Cat explained. "She's smart, despite my opinion to the contrary."

Gerry gazed at her, admiration glowing in his eyes. "Ye walk a verra foine line, Lady Cat. Loyalty ta yer mon, 'is club, an' yer morals. Whut aire ye gonna do ifn' ye 'ave ta cross tha' line one way or tha other?"

Cat sighed and stood up. "I hope it never comes to that, Gerry. Now let's go talk to June before somethin' else interrupts."

Marcus Alvarez stared coldly at the members of the Calavarez MC sitting around the table. Salazar was sitting to his right, smoldering in silent anger at being ousted from his rightful place at the head of the Chapel's table.

'I don't dare say anything about this snub! Not if the club wants to patch over!' He struggled to keep his expression from betraying him.

"Somebody been usin' you for a punchin' bag, esse?" Alvarez taunted the other man. "Your old lady perhaps?"

The Mayans standing behind their leader laughed uproariously. Some of the Calavarez men snickered, which suddenly became coughs when Salazar glared at them.

"SAMCRO busted down my door, beat up my woman. They tried to get intel. I didn't give them anything!" Salazar hissed. 'No one else except Louisa knows what really happened, and she won't talk against me. Alvarez will never know!"

Alvarez felt a deep sense of satisfaction at Salazar's obvious dissatisfaction and the signs of dissent in his ranks. He didn't care one whit that Salazar was angry at being snubbed. The news that SAMCRO had visited Salazar didn't surprise him and he doubted that the Calavarez president had kept his tongue in his head.

"Perhaps I need to rethink patching over this bull shit MC as long as Salazar is President. He is weak, ruled by his emotions instead of his brain. His club would be an asset, but he is a liability. This bears close scrutiny.'

Alvarez leaned back in the President's chair, gazing out over the MC before him. "The drive - by was a mistake. Innocents were hurt, a cop was killed. Our beef was only with SAMCRO. I have decided to give you once last chance," Alvarez spoke like a benevolent dictator bestowing a favor to his subjects.

"What do you want us to do?" The Calavarez VP inquired.

"You will continue to oversee the heroin pipeline, making sure it gets to our contacts in the Stockton prison. No fuck ups. If you succeed, you patch over."

"And if we don't?" Salazar asked.

Alvarez turned his eyes to the Calavarez president. His expression was cold and menacing. His eyes promised merciless death. "Failure is not an option."

Salazar felt a cold chill run down his spine at Alvarez's steely gaze. He straightened in his chair, meeting the other man's gaze with his. "We don't believe in failure!"

"You could have fooled me." Alvarez replied with soft menace. "See that you do not fail this time."

Tig, Jax, and Clay and Clay exchanged glances as Tara walked out of the kitchen area. They knew Tara was right, but none of them wanted to add to Gemma's growing burden.

"One thing we can count on, Gem's gonna be pissed when she finds out about Abel," Tig noted.

"If we're lucky, it'll be short lived," Jax replied. "If we're lucky, Abel's still in Vancouver, and we'll recover him in time to show up for the bail revocation hearing."

"That's a lot of if's, son," Clay replied tiredly. "Once we get her settled, we're just gonna have to tell her, let the chips fall where they may."

"Where are the rest of the guys?" Tig asked.

"Waiting at a truck stop outside of town. Piney took Happy and Bobby to meet some med mixer near Rogue River. Happy's gonna transfer back."

Tig nodded at Clay. "He mentioned that the night Sack was killed. Said his mom's deterioratin'."

"Apparently, Piney gets his lung medicine from this chick," Jax explained. "The meds for his mom are cuttin' a hole in Happy's wallet. Bobby's ex wife is hittin' him up for asthma drugs for their kid."

Tig took another sip of the whiskey blend. "Once Tara gets Nate settled, we need to head on outta town. Best to put as much distance as we can from here."

"I already told Tara about the bond revocation," Jax announced. "But she's not comin' with us. I'm gonna send her back to Charming."

"She's your old lady," Tig shrugged. 'Frankly, I doubt Tara's gonna agree. She's kinda like Cat and Gem, headstrong and intelligent. They don't take well to bein' ordered around.'

"How much more shit does Gemma have to pack?" Clay asked. "And when does she think we're gonna have time to get it transported?"

"Better ask her, Clay," Tig replied. "I don't think it's a lot. Can always get the mechanics to make a run if we hafta."

"Shit!" Clay shook his head. "One more damn thing to worry about. Can't say as I blame her for wantin' to keep some stuff. Family's important to her."

"Yeah, it is," Tig agreed, sipping from his cup. He gazed off across the room, thinking of his own small family. 'Weird. That word never seemed to fit before. But it does now. I have Cat, and the girls. A man needs more than his friends to anchor him. Before we go back to jail, I'm gonna talk to her about re connectin' with the girls.'

He dug the two - way from his pocket, activated and glared at the blank message indicator. "Shit! I woulda thought she'd let me know how the sale went!" he grumbled worriedly.

Jax grinned at him. "Hell, man! Do ya think Ope would've left if he thought the buyer was trouble?"

"Course not!" Tig growled. "Opie get the name of the buyer?"

"Some actor," Jax shrugged. "Last name of Butler."

Tig sat up straight in his chair, ignoring the protest from his wounded shoulder. "Gerard Butler?" he snarled.

Jax and Clay exchanged knowing grins. Gerard Butler was one of Cat's three favorite actors; any time one of their movies aired, she was sure to be found glued to the television, much to Tig's distress. She was even know to switch between channels if she had to.

"Yeah, that's it!"

Tig pressed the 'send' button and held the two - way to his ear. 'I'd better not get voice mail!'

Gerry and Cat returned to into the house to find his driver sitting in the recliner, talking with June and Chuckie. A fresh cup of coffee sat on the table next to him. The smell of fresh brewed coffee welcomed them.

"Y'all are back," June observed. She took a dramatic sniff and added, "Y'all have also been smokin' again."

"Y'all's power of deductive reasoning continue to amaze me," Cat drawled. "Had a little talk with Agent Stahl at the coffeehouse. Kinda stressed me a bit."

"I don't accept that!" Chuckie mused.

"Neither do I, darlin'. She didn't get much for her fishin' expedition, except for an empty hook!"

"I accept that!"

"Good for you!" Cat growled. She turned her attention to June and explained Gerry's offer.

"Sounds pretty good to me," she replied. "I've managed to get a lot of work done, way ahead of schedule. The hospital asked me to take a day to allow them to catch up, so I'm all y'all's for the day! Stockton has a good movie theater."

Gerry cleared his throat. "Ahs it so 'appens, tha IMAX is runnin' '300'; Ah've bin invited ta attend tha openin' this evenin'. Ye kin coom ahs me guests."

Cat's eye gleamed with delight at the news. Before she could respond, the two - way screamed for attention.

"Got that damn thing turned up loud enough?" June grumbled, placing her hand over her heart. "It scared me!"

Cat shook her head and dug the two - way from her pocket. "Hey, love! The guys get there OK?"

"Hey, back. Yeah. They're here. I understand you had a visit from one of your boyfriends," he growled menacingly.

"Jealous, love?" Cat replied merrily.

"Do I have reason to be?"

"Depends. He's still here." Cat activated the speaker, allowing his voice to be heard by everyone in the room.

"What? Why the fuck is he still there?" Tig snarled.

"Relax, tiger. He and everybody else can hear y'all," Car replied soothingly. "He's been soakin' up the Charmin' atmosphere. Seems he's filmin' a new movie about a former outlaw biker turned activist."

"What's that gotta do with the cost of coffee?"

'Lady Cat's right. Tha mon is an alpha male! Verra dominant!' Gerry cleared his throat and pointed at the phone.

Cat nodded, holding it out to him. "Hullo, Tig. 'Tis Gerry Butler. Yer old lady's been hoospitable, showin' me 'er cawfeehoose an' sharin' sum o' 'er experiences in the life. She's really bin a big 'elp ta me wi' me research fer tha' film Ah'm shootin'."

'Shit! Man sounds a lot like Chibs!' Tig found himself beginning to relax, despite his misgivings about his woman's proximity to one of her idols. "As long as that's all she's doin'!"

"Well, it's kinda hard to get into mischief with an audience!" Cat snorted. "Chuckie and June are keepin' me outta trouble."

"Good!"

"Gerry's offered to let June and I use his car and driver to go to Stockton. He's ridin' the pan head. Seems a shame to let a perfectly good car go to waste."

'I dunno if I like that, but they'd be safer than drivin' on their own,' Tig mused.

"Not askin' your permission, mind y'all," Cat continued a bit maliciously. "Just lettin' y'all in on the game plan. Seems '300' is playin' at the IMAX, and Gerry's introducin' the first showin', so we're goin' as his guests."

Tig winced. He knew that tone of voice his woman was using. 'She's not pleased with my cave man demeanor, and lettin' me know it.' He swallowed some coffee and replied calmly. "Sounds like a good idea. You'll be safe in his company."

Cat grinned, knowing he was adding an unspoken 'I hope' to his approval.

'Poor guy! She's havin' too much fun tormentin' him. Someone needs to be on his side!' June glared at her friend for the unrelenting teasing she was giving her man. "Hey, Tig! Did Cat ever tell y'all about the time she damn near got us thrown out of the theatre the last time we saw '300' in IMAX?" she called.

"June! Don't y'all dare!" Cat frowned warningly.

"Whut did she do?" Gerry and Tig asked at the same moment.

"June!" Cat's face was red with embarrassment.

"C'mon, Miss June! Look at Miss Cat's face! It must be juicy!" Chuckie crowed delightedly.

"It is!" June chortled. "Our fan group went to the Indianapolis IMAX theater at the museum. During the night scene where King Leonidas is standin' with his nekkid ass to the camera, Cat reached right out with both hands as if she was squeezin' the King's ass!"

"Why won't the Earth just open up underneath and swallow me now?" Cat moaned.

Gerry grinned behind his hand, though his green eyes were twinkling with delight. Chuckie laughed right out loud. Tig grinned as his hand rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Oh, no! She didn't!"

"Oh, yes, she did!" June mimicked the gesture, holding both hands out above her head, fingers spread wide. She then opened and closed her fingers several times in succession, as if fondling a ripe, round pair of buns.

Chuckie dissolved in more gales of laughter, while the driver cracked a large smile.

"Too bad ye dinnae hae vision phone, Tig. Yer missin' quite a display!" Gerry explained for the biker's benefit.

"Don't need it. I can well imagine what my girl did!" Tig laughed.

"As if that wasn't bad enough, she added sound effects!" June reported. "Kinda went 'squeakie - eeky' as her fingers moved! The ushers came rushin' up to our row, cause we were all tryin' hard not to laugh!"

"They wouldn't have known who to keep an eye on if all y'all hadn't ratted me out!" Cat snarled in mock anger, her face flushed with embarrassment.

Gerry had tears steaming down his face from laughing so hard. "Ah've 'ad many a lass interested in me ahss, an' sum 'ave even felt me oop. Cannae say tha' enny 'as ever made noises whilst pinchin' me bum."

Cat glared balefully at her friend and the laughing men. She frowned at the phone as Tig's deep chuckle issued from it. "Y'all are really enjoyin' this, aren't ya?"

"Of course! It's not often someone gets the drop on ya, baby!" Tig exclaimed. "But when it comes to ass gropin', the only ass you'd better be plannin' on gropin' anytime in the future is mine!"

"I'll deal with your ass later, buster!" Cat growled, switching the phone from speaker mode.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" he challenged.

"A little of both, wise ass!" she retorted. "Just wait until you come home!"

He felt a small jolt of electricity run through his body at her use of the word 'until', not 'if' in reference to his eventual return. "I'll look forward to it. Just leave the sound effects outta it, baby!" he replied before the line went dead.

Cat pocketed the two - way, glaring at the laughing group in front of her. "Revenge is a real bitch, y'all, and so am I. Just for this, Gerry, I'm gonna ask ya to pay a visit to a young man at the local hospital."

"The one that was seriously wounded in the drive by at Sack's funeral?" Chuckie inquired.

"The same," she acknowledged. "His name is Reese McCargo. He's steadily improvin' but still weak."

"An' ye thin' a visit from 'King Leonidas' might speed oop tha recuvery?" Gerry asked, wiping the tears from his face.

"It couldn't hurt," Cat stated.

The crank dealers searched Honey's entire domicile after she and the Sons ducked into the room they'd locked behind them. The peckerwoods didn't find what the drugs they sought. Their intel, gleaned from word on the street, indicated Honey made all her meds on the premises.

Their plan had seemed simple. They believed they had enough manpower and guns to make Honey fear them enough to agree to turn over the already mixed medications to them. They would allow her to continue to mix meds in exchange for 80% of the take.

They hadn't counted on Honey's iron will. She refused to tell them where she kept the meds, taking all the physical abuse they dished out. Eventually, they left her alone to search the premises until the three outlaws showed up. The outlaws had exchanged shots with the crank dealers and hustled the woman into the one room they hadn't searched.

"That's gotta be where the dope is!" the short, bearded peckerwood informed his crew after trying the doorknob and finding it was locked. "We've looked everywhere else!"

"They've been pretty quiet in there. Think they might've gotten out?" One of the crew replied.

"Are ya kiddin'? One of 'em is too old to move fast, and the other's as big as me! Ya really think they'd have tried to crawl outta the window?"

"The bald one might've!" Another peckerwood stated. His eyes roamed the large living room and spotted a telephone sitting on a table. "Did anyone remember to cut the landline?"

They looked at each other and shook their heads. It hadn't occurred to any of them to snip the outside phone wires.

"Way to go, fuckwits!" the lead peckerwood snarled. "If there's a phone in there, they could've called for help!"

"Didja see those patches? They're outlaws of some kind!" Another of the crank dealers observed.

"Nearest MC is 20 minutes away, and that's the Rogue River Sons," the peckerwood who'd been stationed outside stated. "Those three all had Sons patches from California. I doubt only those three are in the area. They might've called their brothers!"

"Then we'd better get busy, hadn't we?" the leader snarled, arming his rifle. "Load up, boys!"

His companions quickly reloaded their weapons. The leader counted to three, then blew the doorknob out with his rifle, then took out his pistol, leaving the rifle on the wall beside the door.

He took a step inside, not too surprised to find no one was in the room. 'There's gotta be a door to the safe room in here somewhere!' he thought, keeping his pistol ready. He called out to the outlaws as if they were on the same side, offering them whatever they'd come for at no charge - along with their lives - if they agreed to walk away.

His offer was met with silence, he grinned, thinking that they were going to accept his offer. 'No man wants to get his head blown off over a woman!'

Inside the safe room, Honey was huddled in the chair, holding one of her cats for comfort. Bobby and Happy looked questioningly at Piney. He reminded them that Honey wasn't in the script business for money; she gave most of what she mixed to hospices and clinics.

That was all Happy and Bobby needed to hear. They faced the doorway as one, lifted their guns, and started firing.

The peckerwoods returned fire, making the three SAMCRO men duck for cover. Some of the incoming shots tore into the stacked drug bottles, others lodged into the wall.

Bobby, Happy, and Piney reloaded their guns. "We may not last until reinforcements arrive," Piney observed grimly.

"No, but we can slow those asshats down a bit!' Happy growled.

Bobby glanced at Honey, who was still sitting in the chair in front of the desk. She was unarmed, as was the orange tiger striped cat she held in her arms.

"Get under the desk, Honey! You'll be safe there!"

She crawled under the desk, still clung to her chest. She had her arms wrapped around the cat, both of them were shivering with fear.

The peckerwoods stopped firing and the trio stood up and resumed firing into the outer room until their clips were empty.

"Keep it up, men! Their ammo can't last forever!" The lead peckerwood cried.

"He's right!" Bobby announced, slamming a clip into his gun. "This is my last one."

"Same here!" Happy growled.

Piney slammed his last clip into his gun. "Then we go down shootin'!" Piney rumbled.

"I just hope Clay and the guys get here soon!" Bobby replied. "Once we're outta ammo, it won't take long for those peckerwoods to figure they've got the upper hand, then we're in deep shit!"

"We've been there before," Piney growled. "We'll get outta it like always."

All the mementos Gemma wanted were boxed up. Only a few more boxes needed to be taken to the basement. Tara found a permanent marker in Nate's study which she used to mark Gemma's name on the boxes.

Jax carried a box to the basement, stacking it on a pile next to Tara and indicating that it was nearly the last. Just as Jax was heading to the steps, Tara blurted that she wanted to go to Canada with them.

'Shit! I wanted to discuss this after Grandpa was settled!' He turned in exasperation, explaining in no uncertain terms why he needed her to go back to Charming.

Tara was insistent. She didn't like being separated from him. 'With the threat of going back to the county facility hanging over his head, he and the others could easily stay away for a long time!' She ached to explain it to him, but the best she could come up with was not wanting to be separated from her family.

Jax exploded, driven past his endurance. The only thing he wanted more than finding Abel was to keep Tara safe from the life. She had a promising future as a surgeon, but that future would end if she continued on her present path. He snarled a denial that she was part of his family, ordering her to be a proper old lady and go back to Charming as she was told.

Tara's hormones were raging. She'd seen and done far too much to back away from Jax's lifestyle just because he was feeling overwhelmed. 'I crossed the line when I hit Amelia and she fell on the knife when Gemma fought her!'

Tara kicked the carefully stacked boxes and nearly threw the wheelchair at Jax. Strips of tape were still attached to it. She screamed whether he thought helping his mother kill someone was old lady enough.

Gemma chose that moment to bring the last box down the stairs, announcing she had the last one. The obvious dissent in the air was thick and heavy. She took one look at the wheelchair and knew the cat had been let out of the bag.

Tara confirmed that instead of leaving, the caregiver had died at hers and his mother's hands. To top it off, Tig had helped them dispose of the body.

"What the fuck was all that about?" Clay growled, glaring at Tig's satisfied smile.

"I just got the better of my girl and got the last word," Tig explained. "That Butler fella is givin' Cat and June the use of his car while he takes the pan head back to Stockton. They'll be safe during their 'girls night out'."

"Means a lot to you for her to get away for a bit," Clay observed.

"She's gone through a lot since the rally. She deserves the time off," Tig replied warily.

"Nobody's arguin' against it," Clay assured him. "She's a good friend to us, we wanna keep her around awhile."

"You wanna keep her around awhile?" Tig snorted. "What the fuck am I, chopped liver?"

Clay was saved from answering with the insistent buzzing of the throwaway. Tig dug it out and snorted, "What?" He listened intently then growled. "Hang tight. We're on our way." He entered a number and waited, holding up one finger to Clay.

"Yeah, it's Chibs," answered the Scotsman.

"Tig. Ya familiar with that scripto woman Piney was gonna visit?"

"Aye. Piney run inta trouble?"

"Yeah. Start headin' that way. We're leavin' and will meet ya on the highway."

"Aye," Chibs replied, snapping his phone closed.

Clay heard all he needed to hear. His boys were in trouble and needed help. Tig would fill him in away from the house. "Let's get Jax and get outta here!"

They ran down the stairs to find quite a tableau going on. Clay stopped half way down the stairs

while Tig continued to the bottom.

Jax told his step - father he was deep in some shit with the women, but Clay was adamant that the shit Piney and the others were in was deeper. Jax exploded again, informing his president that the women whacked the caregiver with Tig's help.

'Oh, shit!' Tig thought. He grudgingly admitted to making the phone call for the cleaner. Clay just rolled his eyes and growled a command to his step - son, while his expression promised his wife they'd discuss the caregiver matter later.

Jax muttered a one word invective at Tig as he ran up the stairs after Clay. Tig glared at the women. 'This switch hittin' shit is gettin' on my nerves! Don't tell Jax, tell Jax. Don't tell the club, tell the club! I just wanna go home!' He growled that they were driving him crazy before running up the stairs after his brothers.

Cat disappeared into the library long enough to retrieve her prized 'King Leonidas' action figure. It had once been perched on a shelf above the bedroom television, flanked by the posters from '300' and 'Phantom of the Opera' along her Andre Marek action figure.

When Alex became a part of her life and her home, she'd moved the 'dolls' and the posters to the library so he'd be more comfortable.

"Whut is this?" Gerry inquired when she presented him with the boxed action figure and a Sharpie pen.

"What does it look like?" Cat retorted. "It's what we're gonna give Reese. I was hopin' you'd autograph it to him."

He accepted the box and pen from her. "As long as Ah'm at it, why didnae ye print oot tha picture o' Miss Anna an' me. I'll sign it for her."

Cat smiled, glanced at her best friend, and withered a bit. "There's just one thing missin', Gerry. I hate to do this to y'all, but -"

He'd seen her glance at June and smiled broadly, holding up his hand to halt her request. "Ye gut yer Iphone on ye? Might as well print oot two pickthures instead o' one," he grinned. "Coom 'ere, gurrl," he patted his lap for June to sit with him.

June gazed incredulously at the actor, then at her friend. Her smile lit up like a 100 watt light bulb as she scampered across the room to settle on his knee. Gerry put his arms around her waist and placed his cheek next to hers.

Cat dug her Iphone from her pocket and activated the camera app, centering the pose. She quickly snapped off two shots. "I'll just get these printed up and be back in a jiffy. Don't move, all y'all."

"I wouldn't dream of movin' right now!" June laughed. "This is just too good to be true!"

"Mayke yerself coomfertable, lass. Ah'll jest work aroun' ye," Gerry laughed, picking up the box containing the Spartan King and setting it on June's lap. "Mebbe ye kin 'elp me coom up wi' sumthin' appropriate ta write ta tha bairn."

While Gerry and June put their heads together to come up with a suitably Spartan inscription, Cat took to her office and hooked up her iPhone and digital camera to the computer to download the pictures.

While the pictures were downloading, she replaced the printer paper with high quality photo paper. Then she perused the picture files, selecting the best pictures to print, one each for Miss Anne, June, and herself. 'Since he's signin' pics, I'd be a fool not to get mine signed as well.'

Because she knew Alex would be uncomfortable with it, she didn't print out the picture of him kissing her cheek. 'He's gonna be upset enough about Gerry havin' his arms around me on the bike! No need to have him starin' at Gerry kissin' my cheek whenever he turns around!'

She withdrew the printed pictures from the printer and returned to the living room. June had moved from Gerry's knee to the couch, sitting next to Chuckie.

"Where's your driver?" Cat inquired, noticing the man's absence.

"'E went ta put gas in tha' Land Rover, 'e'll be back inna few," Gerry replied. "Aire those tha piksures ye want me ta sign?"

Cat handed the small stack to the actor, who glanced over them and nodded approvingly. "Ah've got tha perfect line fer Miss Anna!" He scrawled an inscription and signed it with a flourish, handing it to June to read while he signed her picture.

"Oh, dear! Gerry, you're a terrible punster!" June laughed, holding the picture so Chuckie could read the inscription.

"I accept that!" he chortled.

Cat held out her hands in wordless demand. June passed the picture to her and she read over the inscription. "To Miss Anna, thanks a latte, Gerard Butler." She rolled her good eye while one hand fingered the bridge of her nose. "Oye, vay!"

"I think it's adorable!" June decreed.

"It's certainly memorable," Cat agreed dryly, trying unsuccessfully to hide a small smile. "Miss Anna will love it, that's the important thing."

Gerry handed the picture he'd inscribed to June over to her. She gazed at it and clutched it to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "Now I need to find a frame suitable for it. I know exactly where it's goin' when I get home!"

"Ye enjoy it, darlin'," Gerry smiled, turning his attention back to the final photo, of himself and Cat with the pan head. "Ah wander ifn ye'd mind maykin' copies of these fer me?" he inquired, turning his charm on full power.

Cat gazed at him in surprise. "Seriously?"

Gerry nodded. "This 'as bin a memorable day fer me, Ah'd lyke ta 'ave sumthin' ta remember it, besides tha panhead."

'It kinda makes sense in a way; people get their pictures taken with him every time he turns around. Why wouldn't he want pics of a day like today?'

She shook her head a bit. "I see. Want them on one sheet, or individual prints?"

"One sheet, ifn' it's not ta much trouble," he grinned boyishly before turning his attention back to the last photograph.

"Hey, June, could y'all lend me a hand?"

June followed her to the office and watched as Cat worked at the computer to re select the pictures and organize them for printing on one sheet.

"What's up, chick?"

"I thought we might sign our pictures to Gerry, make 'em really memorable for him," Cat explained.

"What about Miss Anna's?"

Cat sighed. "I'd love to run it over to her to sign, but we may be runnin' outta time."

The doorbell signaled the return of Gerry's driver.

"I'm afraid y'all might be right," June replied. "Especially if Gerry's gonna take time to see that kid." She reached over Cat to the printer, removing the sheet from the tray. "Got any more of those Sharpies?"

Cat reached into the pen holder and withdrew two, a fine line and fat point. "Take yer pick!"

June chose a pen and stood tapping the closed pen against her cheek. Her brow was furrowed in deep thought.

Cat knew what she was going to write. It was simple and to the point. She printed the words under her picture, then scrawled her signature in the flowing style she'd used for years, never lifting the pen from the page.

"Your turn," she pushed the paper towards June.

"Man, puttin' an inscription on somethin' like this isn't as easy as it looks!" June mused.

"He'll appreciate whatever you write, kittenface, 'cause it'll come from yer heart," Cat replied, standing up and moving out of the office.

"Where y'all goin'?"

"Just to get my hat an' coat," Cat explained.

"Y'all gonna wear that fedora?"

"Keeps the sun outta my eyes. This light sensitivity sucks, kittenface."

'It seems to be gettin' worse instead of better,' June thought, watching her friend depart. She looked down at the picture of her and Gerry, then at the phrase Cat had written. 'Write somethin' from the heart, the girl says. From the heart.'

She thought of all his movies that she'd seen, including 'Dracula 2000', 'Timeline', and 'Phantom of the Opera' along with the characters he'd portrayed such as 'The Stranger', 'King Leonidas', and 'Terry Sheridan'. Inspiration struck, and she wrote it out on the picture before she could change her mind, adding her signature and the date.

Then she rummaged through the envelopes until she found a cardboard mailer that would protect the photo sheet. She slipped it inside along with Cat's and Miss Anna's pictures and left the office.

She walked into the living room to find Gerry's driver had returned. She could see he Land Rover parked right in front of the driveway through the front window drapes.

Cat looked a little weepy but was smiling happily after Gerry presented her with her signed picture. She placed it on the top shelf of the closet, next to her helmet where it would be safe, then pulled what she described as her 'funky fedora' from its' hook.

"Tha' looks lyke tha one tha furst stage 'Phantom' wore!" Gerry remarked.

"It's supposed to," Cat replied. "It's wide enough to keep the sun from botherin' my eyes."

"Mr. Butler, if you're going to make that stop at the hospital, you need to consider leaving soon," the driver stated.

Chuckie began to look worried, as no one had mentioned how he would get back to the clubhouse. 'Maybe one of Miss Cat's employees will give me a ride. Otherwise, I'll have to call the garage and hang around until it closes.'

"Don't worry, Chuckie. The garage is on the way outta town from the hospital. We'll drop y'all off on the way to Stockton."

"I accept that!" Chuckie sighed with relief. 'I should've known Miss Cat would take care of me!'

"Isna the Sons clubhoose thaire?" Gerry asked, a hopeful gleam lighting his eyes.

"Yup. I might even be able to give y'all the fifty cent tour."

The roar of retreating Harleys faded into the distance while Tara and Gemma faced each other in the basement. Tara felt like everyone was either annoyed or angry with her, and she felt overwhelmed, she explained why she'd confessed To Amelia's death and why she wanted to go to Canada with them.

'Damn it, Jax! Why in the Hell couldn't you have explained this to her better? Yellin' and orderin' people around isn't the way to go about it!' Gemma fumed inwardly. She quietly advised Tara that she needed to go back to Charming.

Tara began crying, partly from the raging hormones she was dealing with, partly from the added sting of Gemma's siding with Jax's angry dismissal of her. 'I'm not gonna tell Gemma what's goin' on. Not until I've told Jax the news first!'

Gemma called on her small reserves of patience to deal with the emotional physician. She softly explained that Tara had a career to think of, and she also needed to be there to care for Abel when he was brought back.

"The guys won't stay in Canada forever. You heard them; once they get me settled and find Abel, they plan to go back. I need someone to watch over Abel while Jax, Clay, and I are out of the picture."

"I'm surprised Wendy hasn't shown up, raging like a tigress about her kid," Tara sniffled. "I know those rehab centers usually try to keep bad news like this from the patients so they won't relapse. It usually doesn't stop them from finding out things they shouldn't."

"Even if she's been clean for six months and has a note from father God and sonny Jesus, I still wouldn't trust her with my grandson!" Gemma hissed. "I trust you. Hell, I've already entrusted my father to you, how can I not place my grandson in your hands as well?"

Tara sighed, working to get her emotions under control. "I understand, Gemma. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," she replied, laying a comforting hand over the younger woman's. She sat back while Tara composed herself. Once she felt less emotional, she stood up, murmuring that she'd start getting Nate ready to go.

Gemma announced she was coming with them in a 'don't - argue - with - me - my - mind's - made - up' tone of voice.

"Jax and the guys won't be happy about it," Tara admonished.

"Tough shit. It might be my last chance to say goodbye to my dad."

"We know you're gonna run outta ammo soon!" The lead peckerwood hollered. "You're out manned and out gunned! Ya can't stay in there forever!"

"He's right," Happy snarled. "SAMRRO's on their way, so's Tig and the guys. Once we're outta bullets, there's nothin' to keep those asshats from gettin' in here."

"Then we hold out as long as we can," Piney rumbled.

"With three clips?" Bobby asked incredulously. "That won't last long!"

"Not if we all fire at once," Pine replied.

Happy nodded, his lights lighting with a fierce, nearly evil gleam. "I get it. We fire one at a time. Let them return fire."

"That'll buy us - what? - all of five minutes?" Bobby scoffed.

"Got any better ideas?" Happy snarled. "That gives the guys five more minutes to get to us!"

Bobby shrugged. "Beats sittin' around doin' nothin',"

"My original offer still stands! You guys with the patches, take what you came for and leave. Take the hippie with ya! Leave us the drugs!" The lead peckerwood hollered through the door. "Wha'dya say?"

His offer was met with silence. Inside the safe room, the three men looked at each other. Honey remained crouched under the desk, clutching the orange tabby to her.

Piney raised his pistol and fired through the wall, carefully squeezing off his shots until the clip was empty. "That answer enough for ya?" he growled loud enough for the peckerwoods outside to hear.

"Let 'em have it, boys!" The lead peckerwood hollered. He fired his shotgun into the wall harboring the safe room, emptying it of ammo, then ducked out so that one of his cronies could fire.

They continued switching off until every one of them had emptied their weapons into the room.

Piney signaled for Bobby and Happy to wait, hoping to lull the peckerwoods into letting their guard down. After a few minutes silence, Piney signaled to Bobby.

Bobby followed Piney's example, slowly and carefully squeezing off shots from his revolver until the clip was empty.

The peckerwoods returned fire in the same manner they had before Bobby fired his gun. The SAMCRO men ducked onto the floor to avoid the flying bullets which continued to rip into the stacked bottles on the shelves.

When another period of silence came, Happy yelled out, "You fuckwits are shootin' up the inventory! Ya keep this up, ya won't have anythin' worth usin'!"

"Doesn't matter now!" The lead peckerwood hollered back. "Ya had your chance, give up now and we might let ya live."

"Fuck me!" Happy roared, gripping his gun in both hands and squeezing off shots in a straight horizontal line towards the outer room. Once he was out of bullets, he ducked back to the floor again.

"Now what?" Bobby asked, glancing from Piney to Happy.

"Wait and see what happens. It won't take 'em long to figure out we're outta ammo. They'll prolly storm us then."

"Great, I hadda ask!" Bobby sighed.

A flurry of gunshots peppered the safe room, blowing more bottles to pieces. Bits of plaster flew from the walls, sending little clouds of dust into the air. Honey cowered under the desk, tears of anger and frustration streaming down her face. 'If I had a gun of my own, I'd have hit those peckerwoods where it would hurt 'em the worst!'

The peckerwoods stopped firing, the SAMCRO men knew they were reloading. Piney glanced at Honey. "I'm sorry about this, Honey. We held 'em off as long as we could."

"Not your fault," she replied, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. "You bought some time, possibly saved me from worse than a few bumps and bruises."

"But your meds -"

"Some of it's still intact, Piney. Some of it can be salvaged. No good will come outta it if those assholes get hold of it!" Honey assured him.

"When they break through the door, don't fight 'em," Piney advised. "I know you want to, but trust me. Go along with 'em. We won't be at their mercy for very long."

'I hope he's right,' Bobby mused, trying to mentally calculate how long it took to motor from Rogue River to Honey's place, and how long it'd been since Happy had called for reinforcements.

Happy glowered at Piney. He didn't like giving in to the enemy. Everything inside him wanted to go out blazing. 'Can't blaze without fire, and we're outta that. Maybe one'll get close enough I can shiv him!' The thought gave Happy a little comfort.

Another blast of rifle and gun fire riddled the safe room. A few more bottles and boxes fell victim to the gunfire. The occupants of the safe room remained huddled as low to the floor as they could get, thanking whoever was in charge that the crank dealers were content with firing high instead of low.

Another silence followed. The occupants of the safe room waited tensely in anticipation of the peckerwoods determining that they were out of ammo.

Several minutes passed without the Sons returning fire. The peckerwoods gazed at each other questioningly, then shrugged and emptied their guns into the safe room again.

'They don't catch on very fast!' Piney thought, glaring at the wall. 'If they keep this up, the reinforcements will be here before they can get to us!'

It wasn't in the cards for Piney's wish to be granted. The lead peckerwood slipped stealthily towards the hidden door. The cat tree Honey has pushed aside to access the pull cord hadn't fallen back into place.

The lead peckerwood grinned in triumph and pointed at the barely visible seams in the wall. "Cover me!" he whispered hoarsely to his cronies. He stood next to the cat tree and pulled on the loop.

The door slid open into the hidden room, the lead peckerwood stood in the doorway, holding his rifle on the Sons. "I know you're outta ammo, so put yer guns down and your hands up!" he ordered gleefully. "Yer gonna wish you'd taken my offer in the first place!"

'We'll see,' Happy thought, glowering angrily at the peckerwood. The short, beadred gunman suppressed a shiver that ran up his spine from Happy's gaze. He'd never seen colder, deader eyes in a man's face in his life. 'I hope I never see another set of eyes like that again!'

"I'm going to see if I can find Dr. Gallagher, Miss Cat, and have him take a look at my arm," Chuckie announced. "It's not really bothering me. Just figured I'd make use of the opportunity."

Gerry's driver had let them off at the front entrance to St. Thomas. They were waiting for Gerry to park the panhead and join them.

"Sounds like a good idea, Chuckie," Cat replied. "We'll meet back here as soon as we're done. Y'all have your cell?"

Chuckie patted the flip phone holder clipped to his belt. "Never leave home without it," he grinned.

"I accept that. Whoever gets here first can call the other. I doubt we'll be there long."

"That depends on how many people recognize our friend," June added.

Chuckie departed into the hospital, heading towards the information desk. Gerry walked up to the two women, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses.

"I don't know, chick," June moaned. "He looks pretty recognizable to me!"

"That's because we've been around him for awhile. Not so sure the rest of the hospital's census is gonna catch on."

"Aire ye reddy?" Gerry asked, offering his arm to each woman.

"Sure thing," Cat replied, slipping her hand into the crook of Gerry's arm. "To borrow a phrase from Han Solo, 'fly casual'."

"Ah got ye," Gerry grinned.

Instead of taking Gerry's arm, June stepped behind them. "Less attention gettin'," she supplied. "No one's gonna pay attention to a man helpin' y'all along, chick."

They walked through the front entrance and headed directly for the elevators. Chuckie had already left the lobby in search of Dr. Gallagher.

Lady Luck was with them as the doors to an available car slid open as soon as June pressed the 'up' button. They slipped into the car and Cat pressed the button for the critical care floor. The doors slid shut before anyone else appeared to catch a ride.

"Whew!" They collectively sighed in mock relief.

"So far, so good," Cat added, shifting the box containing the 'King Leonidas' figure in her arm.

"Lemme tayke tha' frum ye," Gerry offered, taking the box from her before she could protest. "Ah shuld've carried this fer ye frum tha entry."

"She's stubborn, Gerry. Likes to think she's a feminist, though I think the movement burned her registration after she hooked up with Tig," June grinned.

"Love y'all, too, kittenface! I'm still a feminist in good standin'. But I won't kick a man in the nerts for holdin' a door open fer me!"

"Ah'll keep tha' in mind!"

The door slid open to the critical care floor. Cat led the way to Reese McCargo's room. The door was closed. She peeked inside the window, noting that Mrs. McCargo and Lyla were engaged in a heated whispered argument.

"This doesn't look good," Cat murmured.

Lyla threw up her hands and stormed to the door. Cat and her companions stepped away from it just as Lyla walked out, nearly running into Gerry's chest.

"S - sorry!" she gasped, her face flushed with anger. Unshed tears shone in her eyes.

"It's all right, kitten. What happened?" Cat inquired.

"Reese and Piper are classmates. Piper's been worried sick about Reese, so I offered to visit and take a card the class made for him," Lyla explained.

"That sounds pretty decent to me! I take it Reese's mom didn't see it that way?" June inquired.

Lyla nodded. "She said the teacher should've picked a more respectable mom to visit her son instead of an unemployed porn actress!"

Gerry's eyebrows rose to his forehead, but he refrained from saying anything. 'It's verra possible she myte recognize me. After all, porn is part o' tha entertainment industry!'

"Christ! That woman takes the cake!" Cat replied, glaring at the closed door. "Doesn't matter what you do to make money, you're still a mom! She should recognize that."

"She said that I'm a high paid whore no better than a common streetwalker, and I shouldn't expose my own child to it!" Lyla added in a near wail. "She thinks I shouldn't have custody of Piper and threatened to call CPS!"

Cat embraced Lyla. "Let her. They'll find nothin' but a lovin' mom who takes good care of her child and Opie's kids!"

Lyla accepted the comfort offered her, laying her head on Cat's shoulder. "I hope you're right," she sighed, straightening from the embrace to wipe her eyes.

"They will. Is Piper in class?"

Lyla nodded.

Cat turned to her companions. "I've got an idea, kittenface. Why not make it a true Tarts Night Out and have Lyla come with us?"

"I think that's a great idea," June smiled warmly at the young mother. "We're goin' to Stockton, to see '300' in Imax. We even have a driver to take us there and back!"

"Ah thin' it's a verra gud idea, meself," Gerry added. "Ah kin always do wi' tha compny o' three luverly ladies!"

Lyla's eyes grew wide at the sound of the brogue. She gazed intently at the tall man standing between Cat and June. "Are you who I think you are?"

"He purchased Opie's panhead, and is hosting the premier screenin' of the movie later today," Cat supplied. "Are y'all in?"

'An opportunity to spend some time in Gerard Butler's company? Hell yes!' Lyla nodded vigorously, indicating she was not only in, but she would keep her fangirl reaction under control. "Let me see if Neeta's available to watch the kids."

"Y'all do that, while we visit Reese," Cat replied.

"I'll wait out here with Lyla," June remarked, following the blond to the waiting area.

"Aire ye shure ye wanna do this, Lady Cat?" Gerry asked. "Ye luk a wee bit pissed."

"I am, but Reese can't help it that his mom's bein' a grade 'A' asshat!" She grinned wryly at the actor. "Who knows. Y'all might just charm her into behavin' like a human!"

"Ah'm noot so shure o' tha'!"

"I am!" Cat knocked on the door then opened it without waiting for an answer.

Mrs. McCargo looked up at the sound of the door opening. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted Cat Marshall in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"Just visitin', and I brought a friend along who might cheer y'all's boy a mite," Cat whispered cordially. She really wanted to knock her cast upside Mrs. McCargo's head, but she fought the urge, deciding to take the 'honey instead of vinegar' approach.

"As if my son wants to meet any friend of yours!" Mrs. McCargo hissed. "I just sent that blond whore packing, and I might just send you outta here, too!"

"That's up to y'all," Cat replied quietly, refusing to rise to the other woman's bait. "He's your child, but I won't refrain from payin' for Reese's medical care if y'all do." She turned to look at Reese, who was sleeping peacefully, all three plush felines gathered in his arms. 'Looks like he's gettin' some comfort from 'em. Wonder what's set his mom off again? Last time I was here, she wasn't so unfriendly!'

Mrs. McCargo glared at the businesswoman, then turned her attention to her companion. "I suppose you're one of her biker friends!" she spat.

"Kinda," Gerry replied in a friendly manner. "Ah do ride, boot Ah'm noot an ootlaw!"

"You look familiar. I've seen you somewhere!"

"I would think so!" Cat grinned. "Have y'all seen 'RocknRolla', 'Gamer', or 'Law Abiding Citizen'?"

Mrs. McCargo's eyes grew round with surprise. "No!"

"Aye!" Gerry grinned. "'Tis me!"

"Wha - what are you doing here? In my son's room?"

"Ah'm 'ere ta visit yer wee bairn an' cheer 'im up a myte." Gerry extended the autographed box containing the action figure. "Ah brot 'im a gift."

Mrs. McCargo's nerveless hands accepted the box. She gazed at the inscription, then up at Gerry and then at Cat. "That's very nice of you," her anger melted. "Let me wake him up. He's been wanting to thank you for the plush animals, Ms Marshall."

Gerry held out a hand to help her from the chair. She gazed at his outstretched hand in wonder, then placed her hand in his, allowing him to assist her. She handed the box back to the actor, then moved to the side of her son's bed and laid a hand on his arm. "Reese, honey, wake up. There's someone special here to see you!"

Reese's eyelids fluttered open. He glanced at his mother as she raised the bed into a reclining position. "Is Daddy here?"

"No, honey," she replied sadly. "I talked to him earlier, and he can't get emergency leave to come home to see you. He promised to call you later, though."

Reese sighed and his head drooped against his chest for a moment. Then he raised his head in a determined manner. "That's OK, Mommy. Daddy's doing an important job."

"Nothing's more important than family! You'd think they'd understand that!" Mrs. McCargo snarled.

Reese winced at the vehemence in her tone. "Don't be angry at Daddy. He's gotta follow orders!"

Mrs. McCargo laid an apologetic hand on her son's cheek. "You're right, honey. He does have to follow orders. He was pretty disappointed that he couldn't come see you."

"Then we'll have to be sure to cheer him up when he calls, won't we?" Reese replied confidently.

'Ah, ha! There's the reason she's actin' like a wounded bear!' Cat observed, giving Gerry a knowing look. He nodded to indicate he had determined the same thing.

"So who's here to see me? Some of my friends from school?" Reese continued.

"No, honey. Hospital rules won't allow them to visit your room. Someone else has come to visit. Look to your right."

Reese turned his pale face towards the door and smiled brightly. He immediately recognized 'Miss Cat' from the coffeehouse, then his eyes lighted on the actor's face smiling down on him.

His eyes lit up with delight. "It's Alex Rover!" he gasped in surprise.

Cat had stayed near the door, positioned in such a way that her Iphone camera could capture the moment. She clicked the button just as Reese's face lit up at the sight of Gerry standing beside him.

"Close, Reese," Gerry replied. "Ah played 'Alex Rover' in tha moovie 'Nim's Island'. Did ye lyke it?"

Reese nodded, his eyes staring owlishly at the actor.

"Gud. How aire ye feelin' lad?"

"Sore. But the doctor told Mommy I'm getting better!"

"Gud fer ye!" Gerry exclaimed. "Yer a strong laddie, an' ye'll be better befure ye know it!"

"I hope so. I miss my friends from school." Reese replied.

"Whut's yer favrite subject?" He sat on the edge of Reese's bed, his attention completely centered on the child.

"Recess!" Reese smiled.

"Me too. Tho Ah lyked moosic class."

"I like art. I like to draw."

Gerry nodded. "Tha's gud fer ye. Do ye play enny sports?"

"Soccer and basketball. I was supposed to play on the soccer team this year, but someone else will get my spot now," Reese replied, a note of dejection in his voice.

Gerry reached out and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. "Ye'll jest hae ta werk 'arder ta win yer spot back next year. An' ye will gie it back!"

"You think so?"

"Ah kin so," Gerry replied earnestly. "Ah brot ye a wee present. Thin' it'll cheer ye up a myte."

He placed the box on the boy's lap.

Reese looked at the action figure and read the printed words on it. "Wow! The Spartan King! Cool!"

"He saw '300' on TNT a few months ago. I was afraid it might give him nightmares."

"Aw, Mom!" the child protested. "It's no worse than some of the video games you let me play!"

Mrs. McCargo smiled guiltily. "That's true, honey," she turned her attention to Gerry and added, "He plays a lot of the Tom Clancy games. His father is stationed in Afghanistan right now."

"Ach! Ah kin unnerstan why the laddie wans ta play tha'! Maykes 'im feel closer ta 'is da."

Reese's eyes grew round again. "You're familiar with them?"

"Ah played a character inna video game in 'Gamer'," Gerry replied solemnly. "Tha' myte've bin a wee bit intense fer ye."

"I saw it!" Reese grinned. "Daddy and I saw it before he left."

Cat noted with satisfaction that the youngster's face had grown less pale during his conversation with Gerry. There was color returning to his face, and he seemed a bit energetic.

"Y'all's Daddy is a brave man, Reese," Cat stated. "He's protectin' people he's never met to have the freedoms we take for granted. That's a big responsibility, and we're all very proud of him."

"You are, Miss Cat?" he asked, turning his gaze from Gerry to her.

"Of course, little one. You and I have that in common; my late husband was in the Army Reserves. He was a Captain. He didn't die in war, though," she hastened to assure the child. "He was killed by a criminal."

Mrs. McCargo stared intently at the other woman. 'Then what are you doing living with a criminal? Your husband must be spinning in his grave!'

Cat returned the mother's stare though her response was directed at the child. "Y'know, Reese, appearances can often be deceiving. It's easy to make judgments based on what a person looks like or how they act. A true human being takes the time to learn a little about another person before makin' absolute decisions about 'em."

Gerry sensed another cat fight was about to brew, and decided the visit needed to come to an end before both women started sharpening their claws on each other. "Lady Cat, do ye thin' ye culd tayke a picshure o' me an' the McCargos afore we layve?"

Cat nodded acceptance of Gerry's implicit warning not to rock the boat and held up her Iphone. "All ready!"

Gerry scooted around so that he was reclining next to Reese and pointed at the other side of the bed. "Mrs. McCargo, wuld ye jine us?"

"C'mon, Mommy!" Reese pleaded excitedly.

Mrs. McCargo settled on the other side of the bed and put her arms around her child. She gazed warmly at Gerry.

Cat centered the picture in the viewfinder. "Say 'cheese!'"

"Cheese!" Gerry and Reese called, smiling at the camera.

Cat snapped the picture, then indicated she'd like to capture one of Gerry and Reese together. Mrs. McCargo slid from the bed to watch.

"Cheese!" the two men cried out, looking like they'd been close friends for years.

Gerry stood up and reached out to Mrs. McCargo. "An' naturally, Ah gotta tayke one wi' yer Mum,"

Mrs. McCargo smiled shyly, then moved to stand next to Gerry when he motioned invitingly for her to join him. He put both arms around her and they smiled for the camera.

Cat reviewed the shots and proclaimed they were satisfactory. "I'll print 'em off and bring 'em over sometime later," she promised.

Gerry turned back to Reese and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately again. "Ye be strong, an' git well soon, Reese. Promise?"

"I promise!" Reese exclaimed. "Thank you, Mr. Butler."

"Yer welcoom, Reese, but I'm 'Gerry' ta ye. OK?"

The child nodded, his eyes growing heavy from the pain medicine. The excitement of the visit was wearing him out. "Goodbye, Miss Cat, and thanks for the kitties!"

"You're very welcome, Reese," Cat replied.

Mrs. McCargo followed the pair out the door to the hallway. "Thank you, Mr. Butler - "

"Gerry, please, ma'am," he interjected.

"Gerry. Thank you for visiting my child. That's the most he's said since the shooting." She turned her attention to Cat and added, "You really surprise me, Ms. Marshall. Just about the time I think I've figured you out, you turn the tables on me."

"Good. I intend to. Keeps all y'all on your toes," Cat replied. "I meant that about appearances, though. It's easy to make snap judgments."

"I get your point, Ms. Marshall, and will give it some consideration," Mrs. McCargo admitted.

She shook hands with Gerry before opening the door and returning to her child's bedside.

June and Lyla walked up to them. "What was all that about?" June asked, nodding her head at the door.

"Reese's mom has some food for thought to chew on," Cat replied, leading the group to the elevator. "Reese really perked up in there. I think the visit did him a world of good."

"'E's a brave lad," Gerry added softly. "It's gonna tayke awhile fer 'im ta recover, isnae it?"

"I'm afraid so, but he's made significant progress towards recovery," Cat admitted. "Say, Lyla, were y'all able to reach Neeta?"

"Yes, she's agreed to pick up the kids and watch them tonight. She said for us to have fun."

"We will," June assured her.

"Aye, ye will!" Gerry grinned as the elevator doors slid shut on them.

Chuckie was waiting outside the entrance doors for them. He'd started to call Cat's cellphone when he saw them approach.

"Ye wimmin wayte 'ere, Ah'll send tha driver," Gerry ordered. "Nae reason fer Lady Cat an' tha rest o' ye ta wear yerselfs oot."

"I'll come with you," Chuckie replied, trotting after the longer legged actor.

"I accept that," Gerry grinned, slowing his pace a little so Chuckie could keep up.

June sighed with relief. "I'm glad we've gotten that behind us! No one crowded him!"

"Thank you for inviting me to tag along with you two," Lyla admitted. "Especially you, June, considering you don't know anything about me."

"I know Cat, and if she vouches for y'all, that's good enough for me," June replied. "If there's one thing I've learned from bein' with Cat, it's that Life is never borin' around her!"

"I resemble that remark!" Cat snorted as the Land Rover pulled up. Chuckie was sitting in the front seat with the driver, Gerry pulled up behind it with the panhead.

The girls piled into the backseat and buckled their seat belts. "Your friend's given me the address for the garage. I hope you ladies won't need to make a pit stop after we leave there, cause we're on a tight schedule to get to Stockton on time."

Chibs snapped his cellphone closed and gestured to his brothers. "Mount up, bhoys! Hap, Bobby an' Piney aire in trouble!" He ran to his Harley and donned his helmet.

"What's up?" Opie inquired, adjusting his own helmet after straddling his bike.

"Tig said thaire 'oled up in tha' scripto dealer's hoose, aboot ta be taken captive by peckerwuds."

"Let's get 'em!" Juice cried, starting his Harley and opening the throttle. His Harley roared an affirmation.

'Youngster's always spoilin' fer a fight!' Chibs shook his head slightly while starting his own Harley. It seemed to roar in approval at Juice's exuberance. He pulled out ahead of the others, leading them towards the rendezvous Tig had given.

Clay stalked from the Madoc home, shaking his head over the women. 'Gem wasn't kiddin' when she said she was 'dead certain' the caregiver wouldn't rat her out! I hope she has a good reason for killin' the woman. It's startin' to become a bad habit with her!'

Jax wasn't very happy with his mother, girlfriend, or his brother. He and Clay had counted on Tig to keep Gemma safe, not to help her dispose of a dead body! He could only hope that they had a good reason for killing his grandfather's caregiver. "You gonna need to be tied to the grip again?" he asked his stepfather, forcing his concerns to the back of his mind.

"Nah. I'm fine now. Tig gave me somethin' for the pain from your grandmother's medicine cabinet." Clay replied. "Let's get this show on the road."

"Happy said he'd already called SAMRRO," Tig offered. "The guys not runnin' the guns are already on their way, should get there about the same time as us."

"Where's your ride?" Clay growled.

"In the garage," Tig gave Clay the directions to the rendezvous point with the rest of SAMCRO, just outside the town limits nearest the direction of Honey's home.

"Catch up, then," Clay ordered tersely, starting his bike and pulling away with Jax right behind him. Tig was left inhaling exhaust in their wake.

"Shit! They're both pissed!" Tig shrugged, striding to the garage. He started his bike and pulled out, speeding after his retreating brothers. 'Rescue the guys first, then let the women explain themselves. They'll settle down once they realize I had no choice. I hope.'

The lead peckerwood grinned in triumph as Happy, Bobby, and Piney raised their hands in surrender. He gestured with his rifle, an unspoken demand that they leave the safe room with their hands raised in the air.

"You, too, bitch!" he growled at Honey, who remained cowering under the desk. "Let the pussy loose and get up!"

Honey hugged the orange tabby to her for a moment, then put the cat on the floor and gave it a gentle shove away from her. "Go on, baby, the bad man won't hurt you," she murmured, crawling out from under the desk.

"So this is your stash," the lead peckerwood mused, glancing about the room. "At least some of this shit is salvageable." He motioned Honey to step in front of him from the safe room.

Honey moved towards Piney, seeking both his comfort and protection. Piney lowered one hand enough to push her behind him then raised it back into the air before the peckerwoods could react. "We'll be a'right, Honey," he rumbled softly.

The lead peckerwood barked orders to his cronies to take the undamaged drugs out to their truck. "Take the mixed stuff, too. We can sell that right away!"

All but three of his cronies rushed to start loading the boxes. The remainder kept their weapons trained on the Sons and Honey.

Happy stared intently at the peckerwoods. His expression told them in no uncertain terms what he intended to do to them if he gained the upper hand. None of them were willing to lock gazes with him for long.

"What are ya gonna do with us?" Bobby inquired. "And with Honey?"

"Dunno about you patches, yet. The hippie chick is comin' with us," the lead peckerwood announced.

"Over my dead body!" Piney roared.

"Don't tempt me, asshole!" the lead peckerwood retorted, thrusting his rifle barrel into Piney's gut.

"Relax, Piney!" Bobby added. "You can't do anything for Honey if they take ya outta the picture!"

Honey laid her forehead against Piney's back. Their friendship had lasted many years, and she wasn't ready to let her friend die on her behalf. "I'll be OK, Piney. They need me too much to do anything drastic to me," she whispered.

"They're not gonna get the chance to take you," Piney assured her.

'I wish I could believe that,' Honey thought. 'The way the bald guy talked, help is pretty far away.'

The quartet of crank dealers kept their guns trained on the unarmed SAMCRO men and Honey while their cronies hustled back and forth from the safe room to their truck. They had the safe room stripped of the meds in a few trips.

"Outside with ya!" The lead peckerwood ordered. "Keep your hands up!"

Piney led the way, followed by his brothers and Honey. She grimaced at the mess the crank dealers had made of her home, but felt confident that her beloved kitties were unharmed.

The lead peckerwood grabbed Piney's cut and shirt in one hand, pointing the rifle at his head with the other once they were outside the house. One of the other peckerwood's grabbed Happy's shoulder in a similar manner, poking his gun into Happy's back.

All the crank dealers held their guns leveled at their prisoner's heads, forcing them to walk to the clearing. The roar of Harley engines announced the arrival of more visitors, causing the lead peckerwood to poke Piney's shoulder with his rifle, barking a terse order to keep walking.

Jax and Clay, followed by Chibs and the other SAMCRO men, pulled up into the clearing while Tig took another route to the clearing, coming up behind the crank dealers. He shut down the bike engine using the quick shutoff, then hefted his gun with one hand while removing his helmet with the other.

Tig dropped his helmet and automatically lowered the kickstand with one foot, keeping his eyes trained on the peckerwoods the entire time. He leapt from the saddle, drawing quickly and silently along the side of Honey's house. He waited tensely, watching for any one of the gang to make a wrong move.

All the Sons except Clay quickly dismounted from their bikes, aiming their pistols at the gang holding their brothers hostage. Clay remained on his bike, using the handlebars as a prop to keep his gun steady.

'Looks like the proverbial Mexican standoff without the wetbacks!' Honey thought to herself, though her spirits lifted at the arrival of the reinforcements. She could tell that the gun power was pretty evenly matched, and the crank dealers had her and the other three at their mercy.

The lead peckerwood realized that was the case and he taunted the Sons that they had the upper hand. He threatened Piney's life if they didn't disarm. The Sons stared at the gang of crank dealers, guns still trained on them. Clay growled a low warning, referring to the lead peckerwood as a character from a 1960's comedy.

'All that hair makes him look like Cousin It instead of Uncle Fester!' Tig thought in grim amusement, keeping his gun trained on the group.

The roar of more approaching Harleys vibrated in the air. Jax sneaked a look behind him to see Slick leading a few of the SAMRRO contingent into the clearing. Other members of the Rogue River charter rode up behind the gang. In seconds, the SAMRRO riders had dismounted and their guns were trained on the peckerwoods.

It didn't take a math genius to figure out the odds had turned against the crank dealers. The lead peckerwood looked from the SAMRRO riders and Tig advancing towards them, and the stationary Sons and other SAMRRO reinforcements. His heart sank into his stomach to realize their venture into the woods was coming up quite short.

All the crank dealers slowly lowered their guns as the combined charters moved in. Bobby, Happy, and Piney wrestled the hardware from their guards while Honey ducked out of harm's way.

'Everything was goin' our way until these assholes showed up!' The lead peckerwood stared in dismay at Piney, inquiring why they were interfering.

Piney spat blood from his mouth and knocked the butt of the peckerwood's own rifle into his face. The lead peckerwood fell to the ground with a groan. Piney rumbled an response that they were the good guys before lumbering off towards Clay.

"What took ya so long?" he rumbled in greeting, allowing the younger set to disarm the gang.

"Sorry, old man," Clay growled. "We got here as fast as we could."

"Could've been faster," Piney replied without cracking a smile. "Glad ya made it before things got hairy."

"So am I, old man," Clay replied softly. "So am I."

Tig, Jax, and the other riders quickly forced the gang of crank dealers to sit on the ground. Their hands were tied behind them and their feet also tied together with rope the Sons found in the pick up truck.

Piney had turned from Clay, intending to comfort Honey, but she was busy looking through the back of the pick up and the van the gang had packed with her medicines. Chibs and the other SAMCRO men helped her retrieve her own stash.

They also uncovered steroids and HIV protocol meds, items Honey didn't mess with. Clay decreed they could make use of those. Lumpy's gym could use the steroids, and Tara might know of someplace willin' to buy the HIV shit.'

The steroids and HIV protocol drugs were loaded into the back of the garage's van.

"What do ya wanna do about the assholes?" Tig growled, pointing his gun in the peckerwoods' direction.

"Slick, you got any ideas?" Clay inquired.

Slick glared at the peckerwoods. He knew the gang quite well. They'd been trying to take over the drug trade in Rogue River for some time. "Yeah. We can take care of these assholes and keep Honey safe to do her good work."

"Then we'll leave them in your hands," Clay replied, giving the signal for his men to mount up. "We've gotta head North. See ya on the flip side."

"Ride safe, brothers," Slick stated. The two charters exchanged the tradition 'bro hug double back thump'.

While deciding what to do about the crank dealers, Honey had presented Bobby and Happy with the medicines their loved ones needed, enough to last awhile. "You boys come back for more, no charge."

"We can't do that, Honey," Happy's granite voice was liquid gold as he protested her generosity.

"You can and you will!" she growled back, frowning intensely at him. "It's small repayment for you putting your lives on the line for me!"

She moved to stand in front of Piney, who leaned against the door of the van. He reminded her that SAMRRO would be watching out for her in the future, she was now under their protection.

Honey reached out and wiped the blood from the side of Piney's mouth with her sleeve. Then she reached up, drew his head to hers, and gently kissed him.

The Sons whistled and catcalled in approval. Tig even went so far as to howl like a wolf. All of them grinned knowingly. Honey broke the kiss, glared at the riders and admonished them to act like adults instead of a bunch of horny brats.

Jax's cell vibrated in his pocket as he mounted his bike. He drew it out, noting the caller ID displayed the number of one of his throwaways. He flipped the phone open to find a text from Tara. It read 'Gemma's in trouble. Come ASAP to the Nursing Home. Address follows.'

"Shit! We've gotta get back to Klamath Falls right away!" he announced, straddling his bike and adjusting his helmet.

"What's up?" Clay had a sickening vision of the Feds storming Nate's house.

"Dunno. Tara just texted an SOS from the nursing home that Mom's in trouble!"

Tara carried the leather suitcase to her car, placing it on the floor behind the driver's seat. She held the passenger door open for Nate, who was walking slowly from the house like a convicted murderer to the death chamber.

Gemma walked beside him, both hands grasping his arm. The day had suddenly turned cool and overcast. Nate had on a jacket, Gemma the same jacket she'd worn the night she and Tig arrived. Tara also wore a jacket with her purse over her chest and neck.

"You're taking me to that place Rose picked out. I'm never coming back here," Nate announced quietly.

"Please don't say that, Daddy," Gemma replied, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"You and I both know it, honey. You might come to visit, bring my great grandson to visit, but I won't have a home anymore. I know Rose made arrangements for the house to be sold," he stated resignedly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Gemma sighed softly.

"I wish that you could've stayed here for awhile," Nate whispered. "But I know you can't. Whatever trouble you're in, honey, I hope it clears soon so I can see you again."

Nate's observation surprised Gemma. She stopped right in the middle of the walkway. Nate paused next to her, turning to face her. "My mind isn't as sharp as it used to be, honey, but it still works. I remember all of Rose's preparations when I was first diagnosed."

Nate stared at his long - time physician in shock and disbelief. Rose sat ramrod straight in the chair next to him. Her expression remained impassive, not giving away her inner feelings. 'He could've just announced the time of day,' Nate mused. His face had gone pale at the doctor's diagnosis. His stomach lurched and he felt like the bottom had dropped out of his life.

"I knew I was forgetful, but thought it was just old age creeping in," Nate explained to the doctor. "Are you sure it's dementia?"

"I'm sorry, Nate. All the tests came back positive," the doctor stated sadly. He went on to describe to the couple what to expect in the next few months as Nate's dementia increased.

Rose once offer a token protest against the diagnosis. She didn't question the doctor or ask for another opinion or more tests. She remained silent, soaking up the information the doctor provided like a sponge.

'She's going into survivor mode. That's been her way since Nathaniel was diagnosed. She never allows anyone to see her pain. She'll do all the practical things and make plans.'

As the months passed, and the demon dementia took more control over Nate's mind, Rose did what Rose did best. She made plans, contacted her lawyer, and set the wheels in motion should she die before Nate.

"Rosie, darling!" Nate protested. "All of this planning isn't necessary! You'll likely outlive me!"

Rose smiled sadly at him. "Possibly not, darling. My heart's getting weaker with each passing day. The doctor's given me a year at the most."

Nate's face crumpled. Had he known of this and forgotten? "A - a year?"

"You didn't know, sweetheart. I had the tests while yours were being completed. I wouldn't let the doctor tell you," Rose assured him, laying a hand on his. 'You'll feel the pain now, but you'll forget soon enough.'

She shared every plan she made with him, keeping him informed of her plans. She saw to every detail while Nate's mental condition and her physical one continued to deteriorate.

"Wh - what makes you think I'm in trouble, Daddy?"

Nate reached out a hand and laid it against her cheek. "It wasn't hard to figure out that Clay and Jax were here to take you away, not to help me get settled. You're trouble is with the law, isn't it?"

'Dammit! I was hopin' not to have to have this conversation!' Gemma couldn't meet his eyes as she replied, "It's just a misunderstanding, Daddy."

Nate snorted. "I doubt that!" His hand moved from her cheek to under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. It was the same thing he'd done many times when she'd tried to avoid trouble as a child. "You may be 53, but you're still my baby girl. I worry about you."

"Don't, Daddy. There's nothing to worry about," Gemma assured him. "I'll be fine."

"Not if you have to be separated from your family," Nate insisted. "I don't like the path that Clay and Jax follow. Never understood it. That doesn't mean I don't love my grandson. Just as I love you. If you're in trouble, you need to face up to it, honey, not run from it. Make things right."

"You make it sound so simple, Daddy. It's not that easy," Gemma replied quietly.

"Anything worth doing right is never easy. Did you do what the authorities accuse you of doing?" he asked.

Gemma sighed. "It - it's complicated."

"It usually is where you're concerned, honey. Just think on what I said," Nate replied, shuffling towards the Cutlass.

Nate settled into the front seat, sitting with his hands folded in his lap. Tara closed the door and turned to look at Gemma. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing," Gemma replied shortly, opening the back door and climbing into the back seat. "Let's get this over with."

Tara walked around the car to the driver's door. She knew there was something bothering Gemma. 'She's got that same intense look she had when she went after Zobelle's daughter. I've got a bad feeling about this!'

Tara climbed behind the steering wheel, casting a glance in the rear view mirror at Gemma as she started the engine. Gemma refused to meet her gaze. Nate turned to look out the side mirror, watching as his home grew smaller as the car rolled down the driveway.

The short drive from the Madoc house to the nursing home seemed to take forever. No one spoke to break the silence. Each person was lost in his or her own thoughts and pain.

Nate felt a profound sense of loss. 'So much has changed in the last few days. I've lost my wife and I'll never see my home again!' Watching his familiar, beloved home and garden grow smaller in the side view mirror had hurt him deeply. The clarity that had enabled him to figure out what was troubling his daughter was slipping away with each turn of the car tires.

'I never expected this to happen to my father!' Gemma thought guiltily. 'He doesn't deserve to be locked away like this! Why couldn't Rose have arranged for full time care that would've enabled hiim to stay home where he's happy and feels safe?'

Tara's mind was divided between concentrating on her driving and the results of the test she'd taken that morning. 'How will Jax react to the news? Will he hate me? Could it make him believe I didn't want to keep Abel from being taken?'

The prospect of Jax holding her responsible for Abel's kidnapping made her physically ill. 'He's got so much on his mind right now, it's no wonder he snapped earlier. I can't add to his load right now. I have a little time before it becomes necessary to tell him. By then, the weapons charges will be handled and Abel will be safely home.'

The nursing home parking lot loomed in front of the car. Tara signaled and pulled into the parking lot, parking far away from the building in order to shield Gemma from scrutiny.

To her distress, Gemma refused to stay in the car, insisting on walking with her father to the front entrance. "You can get him registered or whatever. I'll sit out here with him until they're ready for him," she ordered.

Tara considered telling Gemma to stay in the car as she was taking a major risk in being out in public. "If the cops cruise by and recognize her, the whole place could turn into a circus! That hat isn't much of a disguise.'

Gemma stared intently at her protege. She knew exactly what Tara was thinking. She didn't care if anyone tipped off the Feds about her presence. All that mattered was spending as much time with her father as she could.

Tara sighed and gave in to the inevitable. She'd learned the hard way that there was no changing Gemma's mind when it was made up. She retrieved the suitcase from the back of the car while Gemma helped Nate out of the car. Then they walked slowly towards the nursing home. When they reached the entrance, Tara walked on into the front lobby while Gemma led her father to a nearby bench and sat next to him.

'He looks so sad. I wish I could do somethin' to make him happy!' Gemma turned so that she could see her father's face.

As if the Heavens shared Nate's sorrow, a light drizzle fell, turning the streets into shiny black mirrors. The rain made the air smell clean and fresh. Nate inhaled deeply. Instead of the usual smell of his many flowers, there was just the smell of the rain and freshly cut grass. The building they were sitting near was strange to him. 'Where's my garden? Where's my house?' He turned his gaze to his daughter, his eyes silently pleading her to stay with him and keep him safe.

Gemma tried not to answer her father's unspoken plea. His expression tore at her heart, making it difficult for her to control her own emotions. She asked him if he knew where they were but he could only ask for his wife. Gemma explained that Rose wasn't there, and he became more agitated, crying and begging to be taken home.

His lost expression and his pleas to go home broke her heart. Gemma stammered out a response that she couldn't take him home. The more he pleaded, the more upset Gemma became. 'I want to take him home where he'd be happier, but it's just not possible!'

Tara walked out the door with neurological specialist in tow. The strange man attempted to make Nate feel welcome, but Nate behaved like a stubborn child, refusing to come with the doctor and Tara. He continued to beg and plead with his daughter to be allowed to go home.

Tara watched in silent dismay as Nate alternately cried and shouted at his daughter, seemingly oblivious to her pain. 'This is tearing Gemma up! I should've made her stay behind.'

The nursing home physician gently but firmly took Nate by the arm, pulling the older man to his feet.

He led Nate to the door and led the protesting man into the lobby.

"I'll help him get settled, Gemma," Tara assured her stricken friend. "I'll be back to check on you as soon as I can. You'll get to see him before we go back to the house."

Tears streamed down Gemma's cheeks at the sight of her father's protesting entrance to the nursing home. She felt like she'd let him down when he needed her most. She whispered the same two words like a litany, "I can't! I can't!"

Tara could hear Nate's petulant voice loudly demanding to see his wife as she passed through the entrance. 'If he keeps that up, they might sedate him so he doesn't upset the more volatile patients!' She scurried down the hall after the neurological specialist and Nate.

Gemma remained seated on the bench, crying with pain and guilt. "Don't loose your family! A piece of my heart just went through that damn door, the other pieces are in Charming! My family is there. My husband, my son, my grandson, the club."

She stood and walked briskly to the unlocked Cutlass. She sat in the driver's seat and lit a cigarette. Her chest felt tight, making it hard for her to inhale. She rubbed at the scar on her chest until the pain lessened and she could breathe easier.

She pulled the printout of the wanted alert with her picture on it from her purse. She stared at it for several moments as she smoked. "Canada is not gonna work. It's not home. I know what I have to do." She pulled the throwaway from her purse and entered the telephone number that was on the paper.

"ATF tip line. How may I help you?" asked an impersonal female voice on the other end of the line.

Gemma asked to be connected to Agent Stahl as she had a tip on a fugitive to give her.

"I can't put you directly through to any specific agent, ma'am," the unseen female replied. "If you have a tip, I can take the information from you. If it leads to an arrest, you'll get the reward."

"You don't understand, sweetheart," Gemma stated coldly. "Either I talk to Stahl, or I hang up and you take another boring call. Your choice."

There was a pause on the other end, then the female crisply, "Please hold."

Gemma endured a few minutes of elevator music. Just as she was getting ready to disconnect the call, the music stopped.

"This is Stahl."

"It's Gemma. I'm coming back to Charming, but I want to see my grandson before you put me in irons."

"That's not possible. I gave you a chance to say goodbye to your family. You ran. Turn yourself in to the local authorities," Stahl replied.

"Listen, sweetheart, you're not in any position to call the shots here," Gemma retorted. "I know you're on suspension, and my being on the lam isn't makin' things any better for you. I'll turn myself in to Chief Unser in the morning. You can be there to slap the chains on me."

"And if I don't agree?" Stahl inquired quietly, not allowing her surprise that Gemma didn't know about Abel's disappearance to show. She filed that tidbit away for future use. She knew if Gemma learned that Abel was missing, she'd lose her chance to capture the fugitive.

"If you don't let me see my grandson, I'll continue runnin' and get out of your jurisdiction. Isn't a little more time worth bringing me in and possibly getting off suspension?"

'And she called me a smart bitch!' Stahl smiled grimly. Gemma had her by the proverbial short hairs and knew it. "You'll really turn yourself in? No tricks?"

"No tricks."

"Let me talk to the US Attorney. Can I call you back?"

"And have every cop in the area descend on me after you trace my phone number?" Gemma scoffed. "I'll call you in 15 minutes." She turned off the phone before Stahl could reply.

Tara had taken the keys with her, but Gemma didn't consider that a problem. 'This kind of car is alot easier to hot wire than that SUV at the hotel!' She reached under the dash and worked with the wiring. In seconds, the car roared to life. She shut the door, put the car in gear, and drove out of the parking lot.

Tara caught up with Nate and the physician, laying a comforting hand on the older man's arm. "Nate, it's Tara. Gemma's friend!"

Nate squinted at her, then placed his hand over hers. "Don't leave me alone!" he pleaded. "Please don't leave me alone!"

Sympathy washed over her for the frightened man. "I'm right here, Nate. Let the doctor take you to your room."

Nate nodded trustingly, allowing her to lead him down the hall. His nose wrinkled at the smell of disinfectant mingled with the odor of human waste. He knew some of the residents couldn't keep from soiling themselves, and felt blessed he was still continent, but the lingering odor was distressing.

Everything about the facility depressed him. Disembodied voices called for help or to go home. Other voices sang nonsense songs or babbled incoherently. Some of the residents shuffled past him, their faces devoid of emotion and not meeting his gaze.

All the other residents had once had a home and family and were now alone. The lucky ones received an occasional visit from their loved ones. Their world consisted of a small room with some of their personal belongings, meals, and whatever events the staff planned for them.

Nate was assigned a private room in the what was called the 'Alzheimer's wing'. It was set up so that the patient could find his or her way around without getting lost. There was a dining/common area near the rooms, just off a hallway. Next to the door of each room sat a display case that held personal mementos belonging to the patient assigned to the room.

The display case outside Nate's room was already filled. The shelves were lined with pictures, his college and seminary diplomas, and a few other items.

"Mrs. Richards came by the other day and set things up for him," the doctor explained softly to Tara. "She thought it would make the transition a little easier for Nate."

"That was nice of her," Tara replied, making a mental note to inform Gemma. 'She might want to call the woman and thank her for doing that.'

"I recognize those things!" Nate exclaimed, pointing at the display case. "Those are mine!"

"And that's how you'll know where your room is, Nate. Just look for this display case, and you'll know where you belong."

The doctor opened the door to the room, standing aside to allow Tara and Nate to enter. The drapes to a large picture window were open, allowing the natural light in. There was a single bed covered with a bright quilted bedspread. Nightstands stood on each side of the bed. A telephone sat on one of the nightstands.

Tara picked up the phone, pleased to find a dial tone. She dialed the number to the throwaway, then checked it for the incoming number, saving the contact as Nate's. She tried Gemma's phone next, frowning when she didn't get an answer. 'Maybe she's being cautious about answering an unfamiliar number,' Tara mused. 'At least she'll have his phone number and can call him later.'

Nate stood in the center of the room, gazing about at the familiar decorations in an unfamiliar setting. Along with the bed and tables, a television hung from the ceiling and a recliner and sofa made up the other furnishings.

Along one side of the room was a built - in dresser, a mirror, and a wash basin. A small closet was nestled between the dresser and the window. A single door opened on to the shared bathroom, which housed a commode and shower.

'Almost all the comforts of home,' Tara mused, gazing about the room. The church secretary had put up some wall hangings and pictures to give the room a more pleasant, familiar appearance. There was also a small bookcase between the sofa and the recliner that held a selection of Nate's favorite books.

Tara placed the leather suitcase on the sofa and shrugged out of her jacket. Gemma had already marked the clothing and other items with Nate's name. She quickly unpacked, hanging some of the clothes in the closet, and finding which drawers held which articles of clothing. Jean Richards had gone so far as to label each drawer so Nate could easily find things.

Nate remained standing in the middle of the room, watching Tara work. He knew someone had gone to a lot of work to make him comfortable, but he still felt lost. 'This isn't home. It can never be home to me, but it's all I have left to me now.'

Tara walked up next to him and gently removed his jacket from his shoulders. "Why don't you make yourself at home, Nate? I'll hang this in the closet for you," she stated.

He watched her hang up his jacket, turning his gaze to the view out the window. "There's a garden!" he exclaimed, showing a small sign of interest. He moved to the window and leaned against the ledge, gazing out at the variety of color that brightened the gloom cast by the rain.

Tara moved to stand beside him. "It's a lovely garden. You'll get to see it every morning when you wake," she murmured. "Look at that! There are paths and benches, just like your garden!"

"We encourage the residents to enjoy the garden when the weather permits. It's completely safe, they can't get lost as someone is always present to assist them."

'Gemma will be relieved about that!' Tara observed.

"Where's Gemma?" Nate inquired. "She should see this! I want to see her!"

"She's waiting outside, Nate. I'll go get her for you." She turned to the doctor and softly inquired if there was any other entrance to the building. "This has been a little upsetting for her, and the fewer people she has to encounter right now, the better for her."

"I noticed she was upset earlier," the doctor sympathized. He pointed out another door near the garden, and explained the code that would enable Gemma to gain access into the facility. The entry was close to Nate's room.

"I'll be right back with Gemma," Tara explained to Nate as she shrugged into her jacket. She tossed her bag over her neck and shoulder.

Nate didn't reply. He'd found the remote to the television and settled into the recliner, channel surfing to find something to interest him.

Tara walked out the door that accessed the garden, taking a few moments to enjoy the peace and tranquility it offered. 'Nate will definitely benefit from this. Gemma might have her issues with her mother, but she can't fault the woman for trying to meet all of Nate's needs.'

She walked through the garden, following the path to the fenced gate. She entered the code and stepped through the gate, walking along the sidewalk to the parking lot.

She found empty space where she'd left her car. Her hand went to her pocket, feeling the reassuring presence of her keys. 'That wouldn't stop Gemma! Tig mentioned she'd tried to hot wire a SUV at the hotel before they went to the Madoc house. Maybe she went back to the house for something.'

She dialed Gemma's number from her phone. It rang several times until the telephone company message advised her the party wasn't answering and to try again later. She tried Gemma's number again with the same result.

'I've got a bad feeling about this! I'd better contact Jax!' She pressed a few buttons to enter a short text, pressed send, then wrote another quick text with the address to the nursing home.

She then tried the landline to the Madoc home. It rang and rang but no one answered. 'Gemma's had plenty of time to get back to the house. Why won't she answer either phone?'

She started back for the front lobby when her cell phone rang. The display showed an incoming text from Jax. "We're coming."

Tara returned to the front lobby and explained to the receptionist the situation.

"I saw her leave the bench, didn't realize she'd left the grounds. She looked very upset," the receptionist replied.

"I thought she might've gone back to the house for something for her father," Tara added.

"I'll let the doctor know; he'll see to it that Rev. Madoc is informed. Do you need a taxi?"

"No, thank you," Tara replied. "Her husband and son are coming to pick me up. I'll wait outside for them."

Tara sank onto the bench Gemma had vacated. Her heart felt heavy. 'At least my hormones are behaving for the moment! That's the last thing I need.' She tried both the Madoc telephone number and Gemma's cell, growing more concerned with each unanswered call.

The roar of approaching Harleys alerted her to the club's arrival. She walked to the far end of the parking lot, well away from the receptionist's eyes and flagged them down.

The motorcycles swarmed around her and stopped. She was pleased and relieved that none of them appeared injured from whatever trouble Piney, Happy, and Bobby had needed help with. Clay got off his bike and approached her, concern and worry etched in his face.

Tara quickly explained what had happened on their arrival and how Gemma had reacted. "She's not answering her cell and the phone at the house just keeps ringing," she added.

Clay took a couple of steps away from her while the other guys looked around the quiet parking lot. Jax thought hard over what Tara had reported. Something Tara had said nagged at him. He mentally reviewed her report, how Nate had begged to go home.

'Home. Mom worried about how she'd see us, see her grandchild. Home means everything to her. . .that's it!' He gruffly announced that Gemma hadn't gone back to her father's home. He believed she was headed back to Charming.

Clay's heart fell to his stomach. 'Of course! She wants to see her grandson.' He headed back to his bike, mounted it, and started the engine. 'I hope Uncle Arthur stays away for awhile! No time to get tied to the grips, and can't let the guys see it happen anyway!'

Tara looked at the van, then at Jax, wondering briefly whether she should ride with him or not. He made the decision for her by removing his helmet and handing it to her. She straddled the bike while adjusting the helmet to her head.

The Sons started their bikes and fell in behind Clay. They knew Gemma had quite a head start on them, no less than a half hour. They would have to stop for gas at least once.

"How much gas is in your tank?" Jax called back to Tara. The roar of the Harley made conversation difficult, but he needed to calculate their own pit stop.

"I filled it when I was out looking for Nate the other day," Tara shouted in his ear.

"Shit! That tuna trawler gets pretty good mileage on the highway! She might make it to Charming without having to stop!"

Tig had made his own mental calculations about the fuel situation. 'We'll have to make a stop soon. The van's gonna need gas, and we might as well top off the bike tanks. I don't like the idea of draggin' Cat away from her fun; but she's the best chance we've got to keep Gemma from findin' out about Abel!'

Opie was also thinking about keeping the news about Abel from Gemma. 'When we stop for gas, I'll give Lyla a call. She could watch for Gemma, keep her from looking for the kid until we can catch up.'

The trip to Stockton had been quiet. June and Lyla took the time to get to know each other better, while Cat napped. Before they left Charming, she'd recorded a message to Alex on the two - way.

"Hey, love! Our 'Tarts Night Out' has gained another member. Lyla's comin' with us. Neta's gonna watch the young 'uns. I'll have the phones turned off durin' the film. Not sure when we'll be back in Charmin'. All y'all remember to keep the shiny side, up!"

Lyla was intrigued by the small flip phone. "How long have you had that?"

"Since Tig and I hooked up. His idea. It's one of those only calls one or two programmed numbers. He wanted me to have a way to contact him if I needed without going through a regular cell."

"And it has voice mail?"

Cat nodded, slipping the phone back in her pocket. "It's come in handy from time to time." She yawned mightily. "Damn! Sorry 'bout that. Guess I'm a little tired."

"Why don't you take a nap, chick? Y'all don't hafta entertain us," June remarked.

Without replying, Cat brought the brim of her hat down over her face and closed her eyes. Seconds later, she was sound asleep.

June and Lyla talked about child rearing and found they shared a passion for knitting. They discussed the different type of yarns and patterns as the miles passed. They never once looked at Gerry following behind the Land Rover.

As she continued the conversation with June, Lyla thought about the phone Tig had given Cat. 'He must've done that to help keep her safe, knowing the club had enemies that would strike at him through her. Wonder if Opie would consider such a thing for me?' She intended to ask him at the first opportunity.

The Land Rover pulled into the parking lot of a posh chain hotel, idling near the parking garage. Gerry rode on into the garage, using the parking pass he'd been given at check in. The panhead would be safe in the garage from the elements and any thieves.

He carried his helmet under his arm and walked briskly to the idling Land Rover. No one paid any attention to him as he slipped into the front passenger seat.

Cat woke up when she heard the front door open and close. "Are we in Stockton?" she asked, pulling her fedora back up on her head.

"Aye, darlin'. We aire. Next stop, tha IMAX theatre!"

"And no booty squeezin', chick!" June intoned. Her remark earned a questioning look from Lyla. Cat burrowed into the safety of her duster as June gleefully recounted the 'full moon' story.

"Sounds like something any red blooded American girl would do!" Lyla grinned. "I know I'd do it in a heart beat!"

"Sumthin' tells me Ah shuld've worn mur protective unnerwair!" Gerry moaned.

"Just means we've got two sets of hands to keep an eye on during that scene!" June remarked.

The Land Rover's driver let them off at the front entrance to the IMAX theatre. An official with the facility was on hand to meet Gerry, giving him the usual 'red carpet' treatment. Gerry explained the three women were his guests and were to be afforded every courtesy the establishment would show him.

"Of course, Mr. Butler! Please follow me!" the official gushed.

"Ye need ta see tha' the ladies aire seated," Gerry reminded the official.

The official looked flustered. "Of course! Of course!" He glanced around, then gestured imperialistically at an usher.

"These women are Mr. Butler's guests. See to their comfort and security," he ordered the usher. The official took Gerry by the arm, nearly dragging him to the auditorium. "It's almost show time, Mr. Butler. We need to get you to the stage!"

"Ah'll joyne ye inna wee bit, gurrls!" Gerry called over his shoulder.

"Officious little prick," Cat muttered, earning her a warning glare from June.

"I agree," Lyla added. "I would've picked a different word."

"Asshat, then," Cat replied. "I feel bad for Gerry havin' to put up with the guy!" She turned to the usher, who was trying to keep from smiling and failing at it. "I believe this young 'un agrees with me but doesn't wanna jeopardize the job. Your secret is safe with us, darlin'."

"I appreciate that ma'am," the usher grinned. He was used to being ignored or treated like a servant by most people accompanying famous patrons of the theatre. He found himself liking the woman in black and her companions.

"Do you ladies need anything before I take you to your seats?" he inquired politely.

"Nah, darlin'. Just get us to some seats where Mr. Butler can easily join us," Cat assured him.

'The boss might have other ideas, but I'll make sure Mr. Butler knows where to find these gals during the movie,' the usher thought, leading the trio to the auditorium.

Cat removed both pair of sunglasses as they entered the auditorium. The lightning was the most comfortable she'd experienced since leaving her home. The usher had noticed the dark sling cradling her arm; the white bandage appeared as bright as a flag to him in the dim room.

"I know who you are!" he squeaked in surprised recognition. "You're that coffeehouse owner from Charming that led a rally against LOAN!"

"Guilty as charged," Cat replied wryly. "I wasn't aware that news of the rally made it this far."

"I saw the podcast after one of my Facebook friends posted the link," the youth explained, his eyes shining with admiration. "Then the news came out about the truck striking your car, it really made a lot of people think! Many people on line think LOAN was responsible, it even trended on Twitter."

"They were," Lyla stated flatly. "The problem is proving it."

"That was pretty gutsy to take on a group like that," the usher continued, holding his arm out to assist Cat up the steps. "I heard the guy in charge, Zobal or something like that, fled town."

"Not because of me," Cat explained, allowing the young man to assist her to a row of seats half - way up the auditorium. "Zobelle and his crew upset a lot of people in Charmin'; they really made it uncomfortable for him to stick around."

"Humphf!" June snorted.

"Yeah, I saw the coverage of the standoff between the two motorcycle gangs on television. Looked pretty hairy to me!" The usher replied.

"The local club was concerned about the safety of the townspeople with Zobelle callin' in that other club for help," Cat replied, downplaying the Sons involvement. She didn't want the teen to romanticize or glorify what the Sons did to get rid of LOAN. "When it came out that he was involved in drug trafficking, he lost a lot of his credibility with the locals. Guess he figured he'd find someplace a little more charmin' than Charmin'."

The usher helped her settle into a seat, then stood near the girls' row. He pulled a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket and passed them to Cat. "The boss will have my head if he finds out, but I've gotta ask this. May I have your autograph, Ms. Marshall?"

Cat stared in surprise at the youth. "You want my autograph? I'm no one special, darlin'."

"Yes, you are. You're kind of a hero to a lot of people like me. Before you made your stand against LOAN, I was one of those types who didn't dare make waves. I'm not a bystander any more. It's really made a difference," the youth replied earnestly.

Cat's uncovered eyebrow rose to her bangs. She nodded and accepted the pad and pen. She thought for a few moments, then printed a few words of wisdom on the paper, adding her familiar scrawled signature. "No sellin' this on Ebay, kiddo, or I'll come lookin' for y'all!"

"No, ma'am! Not even for a million bucks!" he squinted at the page in the dim light, then looked down at her with a delighted grin on his face. "I'll do that, Ms. Marshall! I promise!"

Cat nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention the usher was paying her. June and Lyla snickered behind their hands, pretending to have dry throats when Cat glared at them. June passed a mint to the flushed young mother, adding in a stage whisper, "Awfully dry air in here!"

"Yeah, right," Cat drawled menacingly, favoring her companions with 'The Look'.

The usher paid no attention to the interaction between the trio. He clutched the notepad to his chest as if it were a precious bauble. "I'll bring Mr. Butler to you after he introduces the film!" he promised, racing down the steps.

"You just made that kid's day, chick" June murmured. What'd y'all write, besides your name?"

"'Don't Dream It, Be It' seemed appropriate," Cat replied. "Lord, were we ever that young and hopeful?"

"Once upon a time," June assured her.

Gerry found himself mentally echoing Cat's opinion of the theatre official. The man chattered non - stop at Gerry, never once giving the actor a chance to get a word in edgewise.

"I really didn't expect you'd bring guests," the official grumbled as he literally pulled the actor to the stage area. "We were informed that you were coming alone. But, I'm always prepared for the unexpected, and your guests will be well taken care of!"

'I dinnae lyke tha sounds o' tha'!' Gerry thought. 'Tha mon sound lyke 'e wants ta do tha gurrls 'arm!'

"Oh, dear! That didn't come out right!" The official squawked. "I meant that we'll see to your guests' comfort and well being this afternoon. Now, you'll do a welcome and introduction of the film, then afterwards, I have take the liberty of arranging a 'meet and greet' in the reception lounge for our outstanding patrons who make up our audience this afternoon. The tickets went for $1000 apiece which included the reception."

"A reception? Dinna no un tell me ennythin -"

"Oh, it was part of the information we sent to you, Mr. Butler, when we arranged this. I'm sure you were informed, likely you overlooked it. Don't you have a manager or assistant that handles those details? No matter," the official didn't wait for a response. "You're here, and the reception is only a hundred people with a photo to be taken with each patron. It really shouldn't take that long, Mr. Butler."

The official pulled open the stage door with one hand, while keeping a vice - like grip on Gerry's arm with the other. "Here we go, and just in time, too! I'll introduce you, then you can walk out to center stage. I'll personally escort you to a seat of honor next to me."

'Oh, Gawd! Tayke me now!' Butler prayed fervently.

The official released his hold on Gerry's arm and walked to the center of the stage where a microphone was set up. A spotlight flashed on the theatre official, making him look pale as a ghost.

He gripped the microphone in the same vice - like grip he'd applied to Gerry. The microphone screamed with feedback as if protesting the manhandling it was enduring.

The official released his grip on the microphone as if he'd touched a live cobra. The feedback came to an abrupt end while murmurs of protest rumbled from the auditorium.

Cat closed her eye from the shrill whine of the microphone. "Jaysus! That hurts!"

"I'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard!" June added.

Unnecessarily raising his voice, the official cried into the microphone "Ladies and Gentlemen! May I have your attention please?" He paused to allow the audience to cease their grumbling complaints about the feedback, glaring impotently around the room until he was assured he had their attention.

"Thank you. The Stockton IMAX is pleased to welcome you to this premier screening of '300'. As a token of appreciation for your patronage, we have arranged for the star of the film to address you. After the film, he will meet with each and every one of you in the reception room!"

Delighted applause met that announcement. Cat and her companions exchanged wry glances.

"I'll bet that was news to Gerry!" June observed.

"No doubt," Lyla replied. "He would've said something about it had he known."

"Hope Gerry didn't have anything else on his agenda today," Cat growled, glaring at the official. The glare was a waste of effort on her part as the spotlight made the audience appear as dark shadows.

"And now, the moment you've been waiting for. It gives me great pleasure to present Mr. Gerard Butler!" The official waved his hand dramatically to the wings to his right, the spotlight following his gesture.

'Ere we go!' Gerry smiled pleasantly and stepped on the stage. Though the theatre official had sprung an unexpected surprise on him, Gerry wasn't going to take out his annoyance on the audience. 'Thair fans an' payd gud money ta see me. 'Tis noot thair fawlt tha' mon is tha wurse kinda opportunist!'

The audience rose to their feet as Gerry strode confidently across the stage, raising his hand in a friendly wave to acknowledge the warm greeting he received. He couldn't help noticing that the greeting he received was louder and more affectionate than the token one given to the official.

Gerry kept his remarks brief. He thanked them for their presence and support of the film. "Ah'm proud tha' '300' is tha furst film ta be shown in yer new IMAX theatre. Ah hope ye will support it noot jest wi' yer dollars, but wi' yer attendance as well. A theatre as grand as this will be nuthin' wi'oot people lyke ye ta see whut people lyke me bring ta tha screen! Thank ye!"

While Gerry was speaking, the usher who had been assigned to escort his companions walked into the wings across from the official. The officious manager glared across the stage at the usher and made a 'go away' motion with his hands.

Gerry caught the gesture out of the corner of his eye and glanced to the side, noting the usher's presence. The usher nodded once at Gerry, who nodded in response. When he finished his comments, Gerry turned to the usher and walked off the stage, away from the theatre official.

"Mr. Butler!" the official hissed in a stage whisper. "You're going the wrong way!"

Gerry ignored the manager, grinning in relief as he followed the usher from the stage. "Thank ye, laddie. Ye jest saved me life!"

"I thought you'd enjoy sitting with your guests than with the boss!" The usher grinned, holding the door open for Gerry while the manager flapped his arms from the wings across the stage from them.

"Ye thot right, lad!" Gerry replied, clapping the young man on his shoulder.

The manager wrung his hands as Gerry made his escape. "Oh, dear! That wasn't supposed to happen! I guess he wanted to sit with his guests!" The manager shrugged his shoulders and walked off the stage into the auditorium.

The spotlight had already gone out, leaving the auditorium dark and buzzing with anticipation.

The manager slipped out into the hallway, grateful he wouldn't have to sit through the gore fest the movie was rumored to be.

The usher led Gerry to the exit at the back of the auditorium, then down the steps to the row behind his guests. "I hope you enjoy the show, Mr. Butler," the usher whispered.

"'Ave ye seen tha film, laddie?" Gerry whispered, stepping into the row and settling behind the women.

"No sir. I'm planning to see one of the showings later."

"Siddown. Ye kin watch it now," Gerry patted the chair next to him. "It's noot lyke ye've got ennythin' else ta do. It's tha least Ah can do fer ye!"

The usher didn't have to be asked twice. He settled in the chair next to Gerry, making himself comfortable. He'd never dreamed he'd get to watch the film with the star and one of his idols at the same time.

Just before the movie began, Gerry leaned forward to warn Cat against squeezing King Leonidas' bum.

"But it's such a luscious ass!" Lyla protested. "You really can't expect a body not to make a grab for such wonderful buns!"

"Tha' un is gonna bear watchin', too!" Gerry moaned. At the integral scene, he leaned forward again and placed his hands on Cat's arms, preventing her from raising her hands to the derrière in front of her.

At the exact same moment, June reached over to grab Lyla's hands, keeping them in the other girl's lap. She grinned and winked conspiratorially at Gerry, who winked back, pleased that Lyla wouldn't get to do any kneading of her own.

"Spoilsports!" Cat hissed.

Lyla pouted in agreement. Neither would - be miscreant was released from confine until the moon had passed. Then Gerry and June settled back in their seats to enjoy the rest of the movie.

As the end credits rolled, Gerry leaned forward to explain the situation to the girls.

"We figured you were caught blind sided," Cat assured him. "We can take the Land Rover to dinner and have the driver come back for y'all."

"Why dinnae ye stick aroun', then we can all go ta dinner?" Gerry asked. "This thin' won't tayke long."

Cat exchanged glances with Lyla and June. They both shrugged and nodded.

"OK. We'll amuse ourselves and meet ya at the front entrance."

"There's a coffee bar in the lobby, Ms. Marshall," the usher announced. "Maybe not as good as you serve, but the customers don't complain."

"I don't know about you girls, but I'm kinda coffee'd out," Lyla remarked.

"There's the museum right next door, lots of historical stuff. Got a nice gift shop, too," the usher replied.

"I'm game if all y'all are," Cat stated. The other two nodded agreement.

"Then Ah'll catch up wi' ye layter," Gerry replied, looking somewhat relieved.

"Gimme yer cell, Gerry," Cat requested, holding out her hand with the palm up.

He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to her. She entered her cell number and saved it for him. "Now y'all can call us when you're free and we can meet up."

"An' ye couldnae jest tell me tha number an' enter it?" he grinned, pocketing the cell phone again.

"Old habits die hard, darlin'," Cat grinned back. "It's unlisted, I tend to guard my privacy."

"Come with me, Mr. Butler, I'll take you back around to meet up with the manager," the usher motioned toward the exit door they'd used earlier.

"Saints preserve me!" Gerry moaned.

"What's with him?" Lyla asked, watching as the two men climbed the steps to the exit. "You'd think he doesn't want to let us out of his sight."

Cat sat in thought for a few moments, then lifted her fedora from the seat next to her. "I suspect he's enjoyin' bein' treated like one of the gang instead of like a celebrity. Maybe he just doesn't wanna give that up yet."

"I think you're right, chick," June admitted. "It makes sense. We're not fawnin' all over him and actin' like fan girls at an Elvis concert. It's gotta be refreshin'."

'After havin' gotten a little taste of what he gets, I can appreciate how he feels," Cat thought to herself, following Lyla and June from the auditorium.

The club traveled as far as the state line before they were forced to stop for gas for the van. Clay inwardly protested the need for a stop, but knew better than to take a chance on one of the vehicles running out of gas.

"Everyone top off your tanks! If ya gotta piss, get it over with, too. We're not stoppin' at every interestin' lookin' phone pole on the way. Gem's got too much of a head start on us as it is!"

The truck stop had plenty of pumps so the bikes and van could be filled without anyone having to wait for an open pump. The bikes tanks were quickly topped off while Piney stood watching the van's nearly empty tank fill.

A sound system piped pop music through the lot. Tig found it fascinating that the sound system was playing the same song that Cat had been playing the previous night when he'd called.

The men raced into the building to use the facilities after filling their tanks. On his return to the bike, Tig pulled out the two - way to find a message waiting for him. He listened to it, happy to hear the joy and laughter overcoming the fatigue in her voice. 'She left that for me some time ago. Maybe she's got the damn thing turned on now.'

He pressed 'send' and waited tensely. 'C'mon baby! Ya said you'd be available for me! I really need ya!' He winced when her outgoing voice mail reached his ears.

"Hey, love! Sorry not to be available to talk. There's some officious little price that talks like C3PO runnin' Gerry ragged. Obviously made it to Stockton in one piece. Don't forget the phone's gonna be turned off durin' the movie. Wish I could talk to y'all, but we'll catch up later. Be safe, love."

'Shit!' He took a deep, calming breath before the beep indicated he could leave a message. "Hey back, baby. Sorry to bug ya. Need your help. Gem's headin' back to Charming. She wants to see Abel. I was hopin' ya could go back and try to head her off before she finds out the kid's missin'. We're headin' back after her, but she's gotta lead on us. Tara's OK. See ya when I see ya."

He tried June's cell phone only to meet with the same result. "Damn! June, it's Alex. You girls are takin' this day off thing literally. Tell Cat to check her phone soon as ya hear this and have her call me. It's urgent. Thanks, darlin'."

Across the lot, while Blake Shelton's 'Home' poured from the speakers, Opie flipped his cell phone closed, an annoyed expression crossing his face. "Can't raise Lyla. No message from her either," he rumbled worriedly.

"She's a'right," Tig called out. "She's with my girl and her friend, dinner and a movie in Stockton."

"Thanks, brother," Opie sighed with relief. 'I gotta remind her to leave messages.'

"Any luck?" Clay inquired softly.

"Nada," Tig growled. "Cat's phone's off. So's her friend's. Voice mail."

"Lyla's with Tig's old lady," Opie added. "I left a message."

"Same here," Tig supplied before Clay could get upset. "Cat'll check her messages before long. Ya know she always comes through."

"I know. Let's get outta here." Clay turned and mounted his bike, shaking his head in annoyance. 'I hope she gets the message soon and can catch up with my girl. Otherwise it ain't gonna be pretty."

Tig stood next to his bike, listening to the words of the song pouring out from the loudspeakers. "I wanna come home," Blake Shelton's voice intoned.

"And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life It's like I just stepped outside

When everything was going right

And I know just why you could not come along with me

This was not your dream

But you always believed in me. . .

Let me go home

I've had my run

Baby I'm done

I'm coming back home

Let me go home

It will be all right

I'll be home tonight

I'm coming back home.'

'I understand the feelin', man,' Tig thought, mounting his bike and adjusting the helmet. He slid a pair of clear glasses over his eyes to protect them from road grit and bugs, then started the Harley, revving the powerful engine. The rumble of the bike seemed to share his anticipation.

Gemma sighed in exasperation. 'Goddammit! I gotta drink coffee to stay awake, but if I have to stop to pee one more time, the guys are gonna catch up!"

She glanced at the gas guage. "Shit! Goddamn land yacht! Shit for mileage!" She'd started out from Klamath Falls with nearly a full tank, and had only stopped once for coffee and to use the restroom. The tank now registered only a quarter full, and the need to pee was getting urgent.

The bright lights of a well known gas station/food chain beckoned in the distance. "Hold on, bladder. Just a few more miles."

Gemma pulled into the well lit station lot and parked in front of a pump near the entrance. She knew the facility would have security monitors, so she kept her head low and her face covered with her hair and cap as she walked briskly into the building and headed for the bathroom.

To her relief, no one was using the women's room, and it was relatively clean. She took care of business, washed up, then returned to the store to pour a couple of cups of coffee. Her stomach rumbled at the smell of the various foods offered, reminding her it'd been hours since she'd eaten.

She selected a wrapped sandwich, taking it and her two cups in a carrier to the cash register. "Ten dollars on the black Olds. I forgot the pump number," Gemma stated, sliding a twenty across the counter. "And add a package of cigarettes," she pointed at the brand she wanted.

The attendant silently rang up the purchase and slid Gemma's change and cigarettes to her. "Have a nice night, ma'am."

"Yeah," Gemma replied, gathering her purchases and walking out the door. She placed the carrier on the seat, then filled the gas tank, remembering to keep her face shielded from the camera monitoring her transaction.

Minutes later, she was sipping coffee and driving down the road again. She'd left the Oregon state line behind her long before she'd needed to make her pit stop. She'd cried all the way from the nursing home parking lot to the state line for not saying good bye to her father. The only thing keeping her going was the thought of holding her grandson once again.

Her cell phone had rung before she'd gotten past the Klamath Falls city limits. She knew Tara was trying to reach her and choose not to answer. She'd grinned through her tears at her protege's tenaciousness, as the phone would start ringing again after a few seconds' silence. Gemma finally turned it off and threw the cell phone on the floor of the car.

"Enough out of you!" she murmured. "I know what I'm doing. You'll have my boys after me soon enough!"

She put the cup between her legs long enough to light a cigarette. Her chest tightened, feeling like a vice was closing on her heart. She ignored the pain. 'I'll feel better once I hold my grandson in my arms again!'

Nate wandered aimlessly around the Alzheimer's unit, looking for someone to talk to or something to do to take his mind off his loneliness.

'Tara said she was going to bring Gemma to see me, then a nurse told me something had come up and Tara and Gemma were gone. They left without saying goodbye! They left me alone!'

He'd napped awhile in the recliner, then woke up to the presence of a nursing aide telling him it was dinner time. The aide brought him to the dining room and introduced him to his table mates. "This will be your seat, Rev. Madoc," the aide explained, pointing to the name plate in front of his table service.

The cafeteria staff brought trays to the tables, placing plates of food in front of each patient. Glasses of milk or tea were placed at each setting, along with a slip of paper placed in the center of the table. Each slip was filled out by the dietitian before the tables were cleared. The dietitian would note how much food each patient had eaten.

Nate didn't have an appetite. He was disappointed and hurt that Gemma had left him alone in the strange facility. He pushed the food around on his plate for a few minutes, then neatly folded his napkin and placed it next to his plate.

No one said anything about his lack of appetite. His table mates weren't talkative. They were too busy concentrating on their own meals. None of the staff challenged his exit from the dining area. He returned to his room and gazed at his belongings. They were familiar yet were out of place, just like he felt. He just wanted to go back home, but no one would agree to take him there.

He wandered around the unit as night fell. He didn't speak to anyone and no one spoke to him, except when he asked to go out for a walk in the garden.

"I'm sorry, Rev. Madoc," an aide replied. "It's too late. We'll let you go out in the garden tomorrow."

He nodded and walked away, his shoulders slumped in disappointment. Being surrounded by the beauty of God's creation always lifted his spirits, and he was used to going into the garden whenever he wanted, day or night, rain or shine. He wondered what other privileges he would lose in this strange place.

He'd given up asking about Rose. Everyone he'd asked told him the same thing, that his wife couldn't be with him anymore. They patiently repeated to him that Rose had wanted him to come to them to be safe and protected. He knew better. He knew Rose was somewhere outside the walls of the facility, but no one would listen to him.

He eventually wandered into the dining/common area. The television was on, showing an old Katherine Hepburn/Spencer Tracy movie. One patient sat slumped in her wheelchair in the center of the room. Nate assumed she might be asleep. Another patient sat at a table in front of the television, working a puzzle. An aide placed a snack in front of him and walked away without saying anything. A third patient sat with his back to the television at another table. One hand aimlessly brushed against the tabletop.

Nate sank onto the arm of a nearby chair, not seeing the other patients nor really seeing the television screen. He remembered the movie, entitled 'Desk Set'. He'd taken Rose to see it when it was first released. His heart felt heavy. He wanted Rose, and knew everyone in the building was keeping her from him. He'd never felt more alone in his life.

Whenever a rider takes a long trip, he or she has plenty of time to be alone with his or her thoughts. The only other company, even in a group, is the sound of the engine and the wind in one's ears, unless that rider has a sound system to listen to.

"That's why I has a stereo installed on my bike," Cat explained to Alex early in their relationship. "My mind needs downtime. The music keeps me company and keeps me alert. As if watchin' out for idiot lunatics and road obstacles doesn't do enough of that!"

Alex had never considered having a sound system to listen to. The Harley's engine was all the music he needed. Sometimes his mind would wander while he rode on long trips, it was the only chance he really had for reflection and he relished those moments.

The ride back to Charming gave him plenty of time for thought. He was excited at the prospect of being reunited with his wife and going home.

'Hell, never thought I'd ever have a home life like Clay and Ope. Hadn't had one in decades. Now I've got a good woman and a place that I want to go to. Sometimes I wonder if it's all a dream and I'll wake up to what my life used to be.'

He smiled wryly, thinking that if anyone had dared to inform Tig Trager that he would, indeed, 'settle down', he would've likely have ripped their throat out. Women tended to annoy him by making demands on him for more time and attention. The thing he hated most was their reaction whenever he put the club over them.

'Tryin' to make a family with the girls' mother was a big mistake. I wanted to give them as much stability as possible, but she made life Hell. It got to the point where I was gonna kill her if I didn't leave. She wanted me outta the club and that wasn't what I wanted.'

He'd finally had enough, packed his duffel and walked out, returning to live at the clubhouse. He'd contacted Rosen to arrange for child support before he could accumulate any kind of arrearage. Rosen had represented him when the woman took him to court for support. The judge had ruled the amount being voluntarily withheld from Tig's paycheck more than adequate.

'Dunno why it surprised me that the gash told her lawyer about the club, much less that he'd try to claim it was a second source of income. Rosen definitely earned his retainer that day.'

Rosen had admitted that Tig had a criminal record, as did most of the members. He also argued that a record didn't prove the club was involved in illegal activities that resulted in additional undocumented income. The judge ruled against the girls' mother on that matter.

Tig had tried to visit his girls on a regular basis. Each visit was like having an electric cattle prod poked up his ass. The girls' mother blamed him for everything that was wrong in her life and seemed to delight in using the twins to hurt him.

Whenever he called to arrange his court - ordered visitation, she'd sweetly agree to his request. When he'd arrive to see them, something always 'just happened' to come up to make them unavailable.

"They were invited to a birthday party at a friends' house, Tig. I'm so sorry I forgot to call! It's a big party, and all their little friends are there. Surely you understand!" Their mother announced sweetly, her eyes wide with feigned innocence.

Another visit was canceled in favor of a sleep over at a friend's house, or a trip to the zoo, or an amusement park with friends, or one or both of them wasn't well. Each time this happened, their mother would claim she forgot to call to tell him, acting like it was an innocent oversight on her part.

The coincidental events and illnesses didn't happen every time he had visitation. The woman was crafty enough not to make it seem like a concentrated effort on her part to keep the girls from him.

When he did get to be with the girls, they would barely speak to him, using words of one syllable or just nodding or shrugging in response to his inquiries about their lives. They also shut him off from their affection, never allowing him to hug or kiss them hello and goodbye.

He would call them often, trying to be a good father and taking an interest in them. The girls remained as unresponsive on the phone as they were in person. They'd utter a 'yes' or 'no' to anything he said before telling him a stilted 'goodbye' and handing the phone back to their mother.

'Maybe I should've fought harder for my rights with them. Rosen said a judge would take one look at my record and figure the girls would be better off with that gash than me. It seemed better not to fight their mother and let her win.'

He gradually quit setting up visits, and wouldn't show up on their birthdays and at Christmas. He sent presents, but never received a thank you of any kind.

'Shit. For all I know, the gash might've tossed 'em out! Can't count the number of packages I sent for their Christmas and birthdays. Would've been better off not botherin', maybe puttin' the cash aside for 'em in savings.'

He'd never been invited to any major school activities. He didn't even know if they were in any extracurricular things like sports or drama. They never contacted him for Father's Day or Christmas or his birthday and failed to invite him to their high school graduation.

He'd attended anyway, standing in the very back of the auditorium where he couldn't be seen from the stage. He felt a sense of pride in them when they walked across the stage to get their diplomas. He'd left before the ceremony was over so they wouldn't know he'd been there.

The child support agreement Rosen had won for him decreed the child support payments ended the month after the twins 21st birthday. It turned out to be a bittersweet event for Tig. The sweet came from the fact that the girls' mother had no legal right to contact him any longer. The bitter part was that he completely lost track of his daughters.

By that time, he'd already grown used to only seeing them once or twice a year if he was lucky. He'd also developed a tolerance to their indifference to him, reminding himself indifference was better than no attention from his girls.

He wasn't prepared for the pain he felt when they dropped him from their lives when the money stopped. They didn't communicate with him at all. Even their email addresses were deactivated, which led him to call their mother to inquire into their welfare. She refused to tell him anything about the twins and wouldn't forward a message to them. Their rejection broke his heart, though he never admitted it to anyone in the club.

His brothers became his family and his home. He occasionally tried to hook up with a woman - a porn star or a croweater - the woman would end up trying to change him. Anytime he showed more than a passing interest in a woman, he found himself subjected to complaints about his habits. Those complaints eventually led to jealousy over the amount of time he spent with the club.

'Dunno what it is about women that they think they've got a right to change a man after he fucks 'em more than once!' The woman would eventually issue an ultimatum, then leave in tears because he always chose the club.

Then he met Cat Marshall and his opinion of women in general began to change. He'd been intrigued the moment he saw her at the city council meeting when she'd presented her business plan for approval.

After that meeting, he'd ride to the business, parking across the street to watch the renovations until she stormed across the street with baseball bat in hand to confront him. He'd ridden away, leaving her standing in the middle of the street. He returned the next day, but parked where he could observe but she couldn't see he was doing so.

He liked her easy going behavior with the workers, her willingness to get 'down and dirty' to make her dream a reality. He even liked the fact that she didn't wear revealing clothes. Her clothes fit her, but weren't tight nor low cut. He liked the total package a lot.

'The first time I saw her ridin', I nearly fell off my bike! A female owner/rider in Charming was totally unheard of. She didn't give a damn, just rode around town on that big ass rice burner, givin' the thumbs up as she passed Happy and me."

The black 750 cc Yamaha cruised towards them, purring along the asphalt, a Mellencamp tune blared from the sound system. The black - clad rider was helmet less. Her short cut salt and pepper hair was ruffled by the wind.

As her bike drew close to Happy's and Tig's, she raised her thumb in a jaunty 'all's well!' salute, adding a slight wave and a wide smile. The wraparound sunglasses on her face looked like a mask.

Happy turned his head to watch the bike and its' rider pass them. 'Never thought I'd see that in Charming! A woman rider! Shit!'

The two pulled to a stop and looked at each other. It was the first Tig had known that she was a rider. The discovery was a shock to him, but a pleasant one.

"Did ya see that?"

"Yeah," Tig growled, looking into the rear view mirror at the retreating bike.

"Whaddya think about it?"

"What's to think?"

Happy shrugged. "It's weird, man. I'm used to seein' women bitch ride. Never seen a woman pilot a bike."

Tig glared at his friend in disbelief. "C'mon, Hap! There's plenty of women riders!"

"Never seen one myself," Happy insisted, glancing into the rear view mirror again. "Nice package for an older model."

"True dat. I wouldn't take my thoughts any further if I were you," Tig replied, surprising himself and Happy with the possessive note in his voice.

"Stakin' a claim, eh?" Happy inquired, a sly grin crossing his intense features.

"Maybe. She's - I dunno. She seems different. Might be worth explorin'," Tig mused.

That had happened on a Sunday. He learned from his stake outs that she always took the bike out of town on Sundays when weather permitted. He didn't like the idea of her riding on her own, what with rival clubs in the area.

'A woman on her own could get hassled by the other clubs. She doesn't have rockers - but her choice of black clothing could piss somebody off. Mayans might be respectful of her, but can't trust the Nords any further than I can throw 'em. Somebody's gotta watch out for her if she won't look out for herself.'

He discreetly followed her on her Sunday rides, keeping an eye out for her. Then the day came that he didn't get out in time to follow her, and had to track her down. He finally found her sitting on the side of the road, exhausted from pushing the disabled motorcycle and hurting from a migraine and severe sunburn. The bike had been disabled by a flat front tire.

'She was stubborn, not willin' to do what I told her. I could appreciate not wantin' to leave the bike by the side of the road. She really pissed me off insistin' on me leavin' her and callin' for a tow. I practically had to drag her to my bike!'

He took her to her house, tended her sunburn, and watched her sleep for awhile, trying to figure out why he felt drawn to her. A week later, he gave in to the siren song and hadn't regretted the move.

'She's never tried to change anything about me. Never bitched about the club, my habits, or anything else. She's stood by me. She's even had the balls to tell me when and how I've fucked up at my own job!'

Tig had heard of the word 'soul mate', but thought it was overused and considered it a dumb ass bodice ripper novel cliche. All his prior experiences with women proved it was better to fuck 'em and leave 'em then to let himself get involved. That idea went out the window when Cat entered his life.

'No woman, not even the one that got killed, ever does things for me to make me happy. Cat does. She watches out for my welfare without being annoying about it. She doesn't expect anything for her efforts, and has never pouted if I forget to appreciate her efforts. Best of all, she doesn't try to change me.'

That first weekend they'd spent together and she'd caught him mourning Missy, he'd anticipated being ridiculed for it, and went on the immediate offense. To his surprised, she showed her understanding by sharing her memorial wall for her own deceased pets. Then she offered to add Missy to that wall.

He'd reluctantly allowed her to scan the only picture he had of Missy into her computer, then watched as she cropped and enlarged the section of Missy's outstretched form.

When she was satisfied with the end result, she'd put photo quality paper in the printer and run off two pictures. The smaller one she gave to him to keep. The other, larger one was solemnly placed on the memorial wall.

That small gesture had made him want to do something special for her. He decided to do something that would keep the communication open between them without her having to enter a new cell number for him whenever he changed phones. He'd mumbled that he needed to run an errand and hurried out of the house.

He rode to Stockton to a large cellular sales center. He'd read about limited use phones, sometimes referred to as children's phones. The phones had nationwide access, but could be programmed to call just one or two numbers.

Tig selected a set of matching black phones, capable only of calling each other. He'd had voice mail added to the service and set up an automatic billing plan so there'd be no paper trail.

'I thought sure she'd be relieved when I came back, but she didn't behave that way. Just greeted me with a cold beer in hand and a warm smile on her face! She didn't ask where I'd been or what I'd done. Just welcomed me back and that was the end of it. Surprised the shit outta me!'

During the remainder of that weekend, Alex had expected her to inquire when they might see each other again. The subject never came up, not even after a passionate encounter that left them physically sated and nearly exhausted. Cat had drifted off to sleep in his arms, never once raising the subject.

When her alarm went off in the very early morning, he'd pretended to be asleep, watching her through heavily hooded eyelids as she prepared for her work day.

Once she had washed and dressed, she stood next to his side of the bed, watching him sleep for a moment. She was careful not to make him feel intimidated by standing directly over him. Suppressing a grin, his hand slid out from under the covers to grasp her hand and pull her down on the bed on top of him. He laughed as she squealed in surprise.

"Damn! Y'all scared the shit outta me!"

He buried his nose in her neck, inhaling deeply of her clean soap and berries scent. "Doesn't smell like it to me, baby!"

She glared at his laughter and the sly smile on his face. "Y'all better be damn glad I'm speakin' metaphorically, bucko!" she growled menacingly. "A second shower isn't on the agenda this mornin'!"

"Not even if I do somethin' to make ya need one?" His hand moved from her wrist to slide under her shirt and bra. His fingers teased the nipple so that it grew to a small peak of invitation.

"That's not gonna happen, love," she replied somewhat reluctantly. "If y'all wanted more, y'all should've woken up earlier instead of lyin' there playin' possum!"

"How could ya tell I was awake?" he inquired.

"Your eyelids for one. You were holdin' 'em too still to be asleep, and y'all weren't in REM else they would've been movin'," she explained.

"Oh, really?" he drawled challengingly.

"Yeah, really," she replied, not scared one bit by his dark scowl. "The other dead giveaway was your breathin' pattern. Y'all were breathin' way too fast to be asleep."

He shrugged elegantly, tipping one hand under her chin to force her to meet his gaze. "I coulda been havin' a racy dream about ya! Wouldn't that have made me breathe fast?"

"Coulda, but y'all weren't dreamin' - erotically or any other way - y'all were wide awake and pretendin'," she insisted.

"Damn, woman! Ya sure you're not a cop? Ya think like one!"

"That's an insult, mister!" she growled. "I was a reporter, trained to be observant. People might say things with words, but they give up more with body language. Your body was sayin' 'I'm wide awake'!"

"Then why'd ya move around like ya didn't wanna disturb me?" he asked, though he had a feeling he knew the answer.

"There was always the possibility that you were asleep after all, love," she admitted. "I didn't wanna disturb you."

"Oh, you disturbed me, a'right," he grinned wolfishly. "At least part of me was up when you were."

"So I noticed," she remarked dryly, squirming out from under his embrace. "As much as I'd love to laze around y'all another day, duty calls. The coffee ain't gonna make itself and the mornin' rush is gonna descend on me in an hour."

"So let 'em go somewhere else for their caffeine fix!" he grumbled. "Stay with me instead."

She smiled at him in commiseration. "Don't tempt me, Alex. There's really nothin' I'd rather do. But -" she added quickly, holding up her palm to his lips to stop him from protesting and continued, " - that coffeehouse is my livelihood. If I don't open today, 'Charmin' Pawse' might not remain open for business. This is my welfare we're toyin' with."

Alex wanted to tell her 'To Hell with the customers! Lemme worry about takin' care of ya!' But he kept the protest locked inside, taking comfort in her obvious desire to be with him that warred with her sense of duty.

He gazed at her in wonderment. Cat still hadn't asked the inevitable question of him. 'It's obvious we wanna be with each other. Is she waitin' for me to mention it first? I'm not askin' or tellin' her. I don't like schedules.'

He dressed quickly, explaining when she raised one eyebrow questioningly at him that he'd shower at his place and change clothes for work. 'Maybe get a little more shut eye. I'm not used to bein' up this early. Stayin' up this late is one thing! Gettin' up this early is for the birds!'

Except for that brief exchange, Cat didn't talk much as they walked across the back yard to the coffeehouse. She'd opened up the cat run so the felines could come and go between their room in the shop and the house.

Alex walked beside her, his body tense with waiting for the classic question. He waited until they reached the back door to the coffeehouse to present the two - way to her. He was little put out by her reaction.

"Oh. It's a phone," she remarked. "I've got one, in case y'all hadn't noticed."

"This is different," he growled, not appreciating her lukewarm reaction to the gift. "This is set up to only reach me. If I'm not available, there's voice mail. I have the companion to it," he dug a similar phone from his pocket to show her. "This way, ya don't hafta keep changin' my number and this works all over the fifty states."

"Oh?" she drawled, her eyes twinkling with mischief at his remark. "So y'all can keep tabs on me, eh?"

"That's part of it," he grinned slyly, then added in a serious manner, "I'll feel better knowin' ya can contact me if ya need to."

"I see," she replied quietly, turning her back on him.

'Huh! She didn't ask for an example. This might backfire on my ass, but it's too late to take the damn thing back. If she abuses it, I can always not renew it,' he assured himself, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"Thank you for thinkin' of my well bein', love," she stated quietly, reaching out to unlock the back door.

"Ya can thank me better than that!" he exclaimed. Her quiet demeanor worried him. 'It's like she's tryin' to put up a brave front or somethin'! And she still hasn't said a damn word about seein' me again! What's with her?'

He forced her to turn around to face him, gathering Cat in his arms, trapping her between the brick wall of the coffeehouse and his hard muscled body. He felt her shiver just a moment, then felt her relax against him, laying her head against his chest while her arms circled his waist.

Alex allowed himself to enjoy the feel of her embrace for a few moments. He rested his chin against her hair, which felt like silk against his skin. He placed one hand under her chin, tipping her head up so he look into her eyes.

Alex noted a hint of sadness at their departing was lurking in those emerald depths. He also realized that she wasn't going to put him through one of those wretched 'good bye' scenes every woman in his past had made him endure. She seemed content to just "go with the flow."

Alex nearly went weak at that discovery. He knew he'd been caught like a deer in the headlights and didn't mind it at all. He bent his head until his lips met hers in a passionate kiss.

She nearly staggered when he released her, then straightened resolutely and turned away to open the door. "I'll see ya when I see ya love," she stated quietly. "Get goin' before somebody sees ya and asks questions."

'Cat was more to me than 'just' an old lady at that very moment. I knew livin' together wasn't gonna be enough. I needed her to legally belong to me. It was the best decision I've ever made. Maybe I'm not the best man for her, but damn if I'll ever willingly give her up!'

The reception following the movie lasted longer than Gerry anticipated. The theatre official had said the reception would host only 100 patrons, but it seemed at times like every single resident of Stockton was demanding a moment with him. He endured the reception with good grace, though it ate into the time he'd hoped to have with his guests and the pan head.

The last hand was finally shaken and the last photo taken. He sighed with relief and massaged his writing hand to ease the cramped muscles. The official, whose mannerisms and speech reminded him of the golden droid C3PO in 'Star Wars', stood next to him, gushing with gratitude to the actor for the inaugural screen's success. Gerry tried several times to diplomatically take his leave, but the official didn't seem to get the message.

The young usher who'd helped Gerry escape the official's clutches before the movie came to his rescue again. The young man tapped at the open door to the reception area and coughed discreetly to get his employer's attention.

"Yes?" the official snarled in annoyance. "What is it?"

"You're wanted in the office, sir. The bank will be closing soon and you have to make the deposit."

"Oh dear!" the official cried in a perfect imitation of the protocol droid's cry of alarm. "Please excuse me, Mr. Butler. It's been a pleasure working with you!"

The official scurried off to the elevator. He knew if he missed the deposit, the money from the day's take would have to stay in the safe, and he didn't want that responsibility on his shoulders overnight.

Gerry sighed with relief as he and the usher exchanged friendly grins. "Thanks, laddie. Yer a life savor!"

"Don't mention it. He's an okay guy to work. Celebrities always bring out the worst in him," the youth replied.

"Yer loyal, lad. Says a lot aboot ye. Aire tha gurrls OK?"

"The ladies are in the coffee shop, Gerry. I'm not sure, but judging from the number of bags surrounding them, they might've bought up the entire gift store!"

The actor grinned at the youth. "Tha's wimmin fer ye, lad!"

He walked to the coffee shop and paused in the entrance, his eyes scanning the area. The shop was nearly deserted, just the barista behind the counter, and his lovely guests sitting in a corner. His eyebrows climbed up his forehead at the number of the plastic bags piled around the chairs.

"Looks lyke tha lad wuz right! Hope tha gurrls left a few thin's in tha store fer other shappers!'

June and Lyla were chatting earnestly, leaning towards each other as they examined an item Lyla had purchased for the kids. Cat was stretched out between them, her head resting against the back of the chair and her legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. Her fedora rested over her face.

'Ah hope Lady Cat didnae exhaust 'erself!' Gerry thought worriedly. He knew she was only recently released from the hospital and found himself worried about her well being. 'She's noot up ta full strength yet.'

He crept across the coffee shop towards the women. Their corner was situated near the entrance. He felt a rush of gratitude to whichever of the ladies had opted to camp there. The proximity to the entrance made it easier for him to make his way to them without alerting the barista to his presence.

"Hullo, gurrls. Did ye layve ennythin' in tha gift shop fer ennyun else?"

June grinned cheekily. "A little here and there. Y'all don't look too worn out from the reception."

"Ah endured," Gerry replied. "Barely. Howse Lady Cat?"

"Y'all can ask me yourself," she murmured, her voice muffled by the fedora over her face. "I am sittin' right here."

"Thot ye wuz asleep!"

"I was," Cat replied, moving to sit up in the chair and wincing slightly at the reminder from her ribs that they were still tender. "I woke up."

"So Ah see," Gerry replied. "Aire ye OK?"

"Sure. Just cat nappin' is all. So who's hungry?"

"Ah am!" Gerry grinned. His stomach rumbled ominously in agreement.

"From the sounds of that, we'd better get this poor man fed!" Lyla mused.

"Ah accept tha'!" Gerry dug out the cell phone and dialed the number for his driver. "Meet us at tha front entry. Tha gurrls 'ave a few bags ta store in tha boot. We're off ta dinner."

"Yes sir!"

While Gerry called the driver, the women gathered their bags together. June had two, Cat just one small one, and the remainder belonged to Lyla.

Gerry took all the bags from them into both of his hands, allowing the women to precede him into the main lobby of the theatre.

"Did ye enjoy tha mooseum?" he inquired as they walked across the lobby.

"Definitely," Cat replied. "Quite a lot of interestin' things to see. It's too bad y'all were tied up with that glad hand shindig, y'all missed a lot of neat stuff."

"I thought we'd never get Cat outta the broadcastin' display! She was stuck there like glue!" June reported.

"As if! Who was it that got enchanted by the quilts and other handcrafts?" Cat pointed out.

"Now, gurrls! Play nice!" Gerry admonished laughingly, somehow managing to keep hold of all the bags and open the door for them at the same time.

The Land Rover was parked in the lane ahead of them, the hatch raised in anticipation of having the shopping bags stored inside. The driver scurried to help the actor with the bags, while the women settled into the back seat, leaving the front seat to the men.

"Ennyun 'ave a suggesthun where ta eat?"

Cat knew of one she liked from Indianapolis, as it was easily accessed, had good food, and also not well lit so that people would crowd their famous friend. "I have a suggestion, how's the Cheesecake Factory sound?"

"Lyke a playce tha' maykes cheesecake onna assembly line."

"The name would make y'all think that," June replied. "But it's a pretty neat restaurant that serves more than cheesecake, though that is the featured dessert."

"I love that place!" Lyla added enthusiastically.

"Then we're goin' there," Gerry replied, grinning at the driver. "Do ye kin hoo ta git there?"

The driver nodded. There were two locations in Stockton. One was close, but it was also situated right in the middle of a large shopping mall. The driver summarily dismissed it as a problem. The other was a stand alone building. It was easy to access and there would be less chance of a mob scene should his employer be recognized.

The drive to the restaurant took very little time. The driver let his passengers off at the door, parked the car, and joined them at the entrance. Gerry surprised him by inviting him to join them instead of sitting off by himself as he'd planned.

"Ah cannae be selfish an' keep these luverly ladies all ta meself!" Gerry added.

If the hostess recognized the actor, she didn't let on. She cordially welcomed the group as she would any other patrons, leading them to a booth that was close to the door yet secluded so that passersby wouldn't be able to stare.

Gerry indicated that Lyla should enter the booth first, then slid next to her, patting the seat next to him and pointing at Cat. She nodded, realizing he was making it more difficult for people to recognize him by putting himself in the middle and keeping his back to the door.

June slid into the booth opposite Lyla, with the driver settling next to her. The hostess took the drink orders and left them alone to glance through the menu.

"That girl is good at her job," Cat murmured approvingly.

"Maybe she's un o' tha few tha' dinnae kin me," Gerry remarked.

"Yeah, right. And I've got swamp land for sale in Arizona for cheap," June retorted.

"She knows who you are," Lyla assured him. "I saw the gleam of recognition in her eye. Cat's right. The gal probably figured if she let on, it'd cause a mob scene."

Gerry smiled and pretended to be engrossed in his menu. 'Thair right. Ah'll mayke it wurth tha gurrl's while fer bein' discreet.'

The hostess returned with their drinks and announced she would take their meal orders. The group picked a couple of appetizers, along with their main courses.

The hostess wrote down the orders and departed with a saucy, "Don't forget to save room for dessert!"

"That's the best part!" Lyla replied with a grin.

The group relaxed with their drinks, while the driver sliced the fresh baked bread for them. The hostess returned a few moments later with the salads that came with the meal and plates for the appetizers.

Neither Cat nor June thought about their phones. Cat figured Alex and the guys were well on their way to Canada and not stopping for much more than gas and quick bathroom breaks. June had called her daughter to say 'hi' after the movie, then had shut off the cell to save the battery.

The hostess delivered the main courses to the group and asked if anyone needed anything else. Once she was satisfied that her guests were well supplied, she drifted away, ensuring that the tables immediately beside and behind the group were left empty.

The hour wasn't late, but the evening crush had long dispersed, so there was plenty of seating in other parts of the restaurant. The hostess felt it would be better to keep the group as isolated as possible. She'd seen before what could happen when a celebrity was recognized. It usually meant the celeb's meal was interrupted by autograph seekers and paparazzi.

'This is one time that Gerard Butler will get a quiet meal!' she determined.

The group agreed that their food was excellent, and settled down to their meal, exchanging quips and stories in a companionable manner. The hostess returned about midway through the meal to check on them.

"May I have a box for the left overs?" Cat asked politely, pointing to her still very full plate.

"Oh, honey! I was only joking about saving room!" the hostess replied.

"I'm not able to eat a lot at one time," Cat explained. "In fact, I'll be gettin' my dessert 'to go'."

"Ah'm gonna need a box meself," Gerry added winningly.

"Me three!" June piped up.

The hostess eyed the other two plates and decided to bring them all a box for their left overs. She approved of boxing the left overs over throwing perfectly good food out. "Will all of you want your desserts to go?"

"Hell, no!" Lyla replied. She clapped her hand over her mouth at her verbal slip.

"Hell, no!" Gerry added, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Hell, no!" June and the driver chimed in.

"Y'all know the old sayin'," Cat observed to the hostess. "I'm the one in every crowd."

"I'll be back with the boxes and take your orders then," the hostess grinned.

"When's the last time y'all checked the two - way, chick?" June inquired after the hostess had left them again.

"Shit! Haven't turned the two - way on since we got to the theatre!"

"Would he have time to call?" Lyla asked.

"Dunno, darlin'. He might've checked in to see if I was OK, though he was certainly pleased with the idea of me gettin' outta Charmin' for a day." Cat shrugged. She dug out the two - way and turned it on.

June turned on her own cell, thinking her child might've called. Critter would often call in the evening when the free minutes began, and that time had long passed for Indiana.

Lyla dug her cell out of her purse and turned it on. She didn't expect a message from Opie, but she could check on the kids.

"'Scuse us, Gerry. I know this is rude, but this won't take but a minute," Cat explained apologetically. All three women frowned as they listened to their voice mails. June took one look at Cat's expression and knew their pleasant outing was over.

"We'd better change to gettin' our desserts to go," June informed the other. "We're gonna have to go pretty soon."

"Tig must've called ya when he couldn't reach me," Cat murmured. "Gemma's headed back to Charmin' as we speak. She's gotta big lead on the guys."

"They're coming home?" Lyla squeaked. "Opie called, but didn't leave a message."

"Ah tayke it tha' isnae a gud thin'?" Gerry asked.

"Sir, I'll go get the car and wait out front," the driver offered, pulling out his wallet as he stood up.

"Nay. Ah'm payin' yer way, lad. An' ye ain't layvin' withoot tellin' me whut ye want fer dessert."

"Damn straight. We'll make time for that," Cat growled.

The driver gave in gracefully, informing his employer of his choice before walking casually to the door.

The hostess returned with boxes and carrying bags. "Are we ready to order dessert?"

"Aye, an' we've gotta git 'em ta go," Gerry replied apologetically. "Sumthin's coom up."

"That's all right. Let me get your orders and I'll make up the bill while they're being packed."

"One bill, an' bring it ta me," Gerry explained, casting a warning glare reminiscent of 'The Phantom' at the women not to argue.

"Of course, sir," She wrote down the orders and departed again.

Gerry reached into his pocket and removed a thick point 'Sharpie' pen. He snagged one of the unused cloth napkins from the table beside them, spread it out on the clean table, and wrote on the fabric. He signed his name with a flourish and folded the napkin.

"Lady Cat, wuld ye be willin' ta -"

"-take a picture of you with the hostess?" she interjected. "Of course. It's the least we can do for her."

"Ah knew ye'd see it tha' way!"

"And we women are coverin' the tip," June stated, pointing at the pile of bills weighted down under the empty bread basket.

"Ah kin when ta pick me fights!" the actor laughed. "Three aginst un isnae the right kinda odds."

"Some men might disagree with you," Lyla grinned wickedly.

The hostess returned with the bill and five separate bags. She placed them on the unused table beside her and handed the leather folder to the actor. He took her hand and placed the folded napkin in her hand. "Tha's fer ye, darlin'. My friend has a camera phone, an' 'as offered ta tayke a picture o' us."

The hostess slipped the napkin in her pocket and withdrew her own cellphone. "If it's OK with you, ma'am, would you use mine? So I can have the picture right away?"

Cat nodded encouragingly. "No problem, if you'll put in one last order. A slice of Snickers bar cheesecake. Separate bill."

"Certainly."

Gerry stood up and placed an arm around the hostess, who snuggled happily against him. Being discreet definitely had its' merits as far as she was concerned.

Cat lined up the shot and snapped off a couple of pictures for the girl, figuring it was the least she could do. She handed the hostess her phone, with a $20 bill folded on top of the phone. "That's for the extra dessert, and keep the change. Y'all earned it for protectin' our privacy."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll bring the order to you with your friend's receipt."

While Cat was taking the picture, Lyla entered Opie's number and waited breathlessly, hoping she might get to speak with him directly. She was disappointed to get voice mail, but kept her voice light and worry free as she left a message for him.

"Hi, Hun. I'm fine, out in Stockton with Cat and her friend June. Girls Night Out kind of thing. The kids are with Neeta. Be safe."

"Ah tayke it this 'Gemma' person is impurtent ta tha club?" Gerry inquired after the hostess departed to run his credit card.

"She's the matriarch. Been with the club since day one. One of the wives of the first nine, the founders," Cat explained. "It's not good that she's headin' back."

"She can't find out about Abel!" Lyla gasped.

"Tig thinks I can prevent Gemma from findin' out the truth and get her safe before Stahl digs her claws into her!" Cat replied.

"Then we'd better git moovin'," Gerry observed.

The hostess returned with the receipt and Gerry's credit card.

"Thank ye, darlin'. Ye mayde our night pleasant an' coomfertable," Gerry stated.

"It was my pleasure. I hope you all come back again."

The quartet gathered their bags and slipped outside. The Land Rover was idling at the curb, the hatchback raised again to accept the bags. Gerry loaded the food carefully inside the hatch while the women settled into the back seat.

"Are we going back to Charming?" the driver inquired once Gerry slid into the front seat and closed the door.

"Aye, an' as fast as ye can. Faster ifn ye dinnae mind," the actor replied. "Ah'll pay fer enny speedin' tickets."

"Hold on to your hats, folks," the driver replied with a sly grin. "We'll see what kinda response this bucket has under the hood!"

Cat already had the two - way out and pressed the 'send' button. Part of her hoped to talk directly to Alex, but another part hoped for voice mail. The latter won. "Hey, love. I'm such a damn dunce! Forgot to turn on the two - way; thought all y'all would be too busy to call. We're headin' back to Charmin' with all due haste. See ya when I see ya."

"That oughta warm the cockles of his heart," June mused dryly.

"It'll warm his cock more than likely," Lyla whispered wickedly.

"I resemble that remark!" Cat growled, giving the two jokesters 'The Look'.

"Stow it, chick. It just doesn't have the impact that both eyes have," June retorted. "The one eyed scowl is just plain creepy."

"I love you, too!" Cat added some digital communications to her announcement, causing the carload to laugh animatedly. It also dispelled some of the tension that had built over the situation.

"Might as well give in and take a nap, chick. Yer eye is droopin' worse than a bad face lift."

Cat leaned back against the seat, stretching her legs as far as she could. "We'll try Jax's house first, and if she's not there, we'll try the club."

"Hoow do ye kin whare tha lass myte go?" Gerry asked.

"Instinct. Gemma wants to see her grandson. Jax is her son, so she'd go there first. The club is the second place she'd think to look. It's where I'd go," Lyla supplied.

"Somethin' must've gone knockers up in Klamath Falls for Gemma to be haulin' ass to Charmin'," Cat added. Her eye was closed but her mind was working furiously.

"Ah dinnae unnerstand."

"I'll explain it," Lyla offered, laying a gentle hand on Cat's. "You rest." The firm squeeze she gave the other woman communicated the younger one's wish to help out. 'Cat said that Gerry's researching an outlaw biker role. If she trusts Gerry to help him, so can I.'

Cat nodded slightly, allowing herself to drift off to sleep. She knew she'd need every ounce of energy she could store for whatever lay ahead.

Alex felt the two - way vibrate in his pocket. 'Damn! What took ya so long to call?' He did some rapid calculations, based on the probability that Cat had just checked her messages and heading back to Charming. 'Cuttin' it pretty fine, baby. I hope ya make it in time.'

SAMCRO had left the Oregon state line behind them a couple of hours ago. A light fog clung to the asphalt as they made their way along a lesser used state road. It was a more direct line between Oregon and Charming, though full of twists and turns, SAMCRO was likely to shave several minutes' off their travel time. Gemma was more likely to stick to the interstate, which would take longer.

Alex was happy to be out of Oregon. He had been alert for trouble the minute he'd crossed the state line to meet up with Gemma. Zobelle might be out of the country, but the shot callers within LOAN didn't know he was a rat. He knew Zobelle wouldn't hesitate to use the information available to him from the Feds to cause trouble for the club.

'I knew Bachman had squelched that livestock carrier thing! Bein' a rat for the Feds obviously had its' advantages for Zobelle. I wouldn't put it past that fuckwit to buy off more bounty hunters and provide 'em with false info so they come lookin' for us.' His mind drifted back to his own experience, the club's first gun run for the Hayes' under the guise of a charity run.

Bobby's Fat Boy had acted up, causing the bike to accelerate into the back of Tig's Dyna, sending him flying off the road. The resulting injuries had taken him to that small hospital that was out of his insurance network. A staffer had called some bounty hunters, who stormed the hospital parking lot and captured him.

'Cat was gonna tear that fuckin' rust bucket apart bolt by bolt for causin' the thing. She settled down once she realized Bobby had done us a favor, but that took awhile, we didn't know that Zobelle was a rat at the time.'

Cat had requested Rosen look into the charges against Alex, uncovering Zobelle's plot. 'She did that after goin' to that fuckin' hospital and settlin' the score with 'em!' He felt a rush of warmth course through him. Only a lioness protecting her young was fiercer than Cat on a crusade.

'When she goes on the warpath, it's cold and calculated. She might annoy the Hell outta me with her independent streak, but she doesn't cause me half the aggravation Gem and Tara did in just a couple of days!'

He smiled ruefully, thinking of how they'd gotten him in hot water with Clay and Jax for calling in Bachman to clean up after the women caused the caregiver's demise. 'I've got a Hell of a lot more authority over Cat than those two. Jax and Clay can have their girls, I'm happy with what I've got! She's a handful, but she's my handful!'

They passed through a cold spot in the road. The temperature dropped 20 degrees in a few seconds. Alex wished Cat was riding behind him, helping to keep him warm. 'I missed that woman more than I want her to know! It'll be good to be with her again until we hafta haul ass to Canada.'

A mileage sign indicated they had less than an hour's worth of travel to Charming. 'Shit! It's gonna be a real close shave on this one! Stockton's just a half hour from home, no tellin' how close Gem is to town. I'm gettin' a bad feelin' about this!'

Maureen Ashby sat in her office of her small corner store, gazing at the telephone number written in Father Kellen Ashby's neat handwriting. The Casey brothers had delivered the scrap of paper to her the night before, after she'd confronted the priest about the use of John Teller's grandchild as a pawn in the chess game between the RIRA and Jimmy O'Phelan.

Father Ashby knew she'd tried unsuccessfully to reach out to Gemma about Abel. He had eyes and ears all over Belfast. Nothing related to SAMBEL and the RIRA occurred without his knowing of it.

He knew Jimmy would pay a visit to Maureen to find out where the wee bairn had gone. Jimmy wanted to use Abel as a bargaining tool with SAMCRO. The RIRA council knew that Jimmy had someone in the SAMBEL hierarchy on his payroll, but no way to prove it, much less neutralize the problem.

The RIRA needed SAMCRO's help to eliminate Jimmy O and return the Belfast chapter's allegiance to the RIRA. Without knowing it, Cameron and Eddie's betrayal of SAMCRO in the US in favor of a deal with the League of American Nationalists had helped make the inevitable housecleaning possible.

Maureen was surprised that she felt nervous about calling Gemma. 'All Ah 'ave ta do is tell tha' beech tha' Abel's 'ere. SAMCRO will coom 'ere, jest as Kellen wants.' She stabbed out her cigarette and dialed the US number.

Gemma sighed with relief when she passed the road sign indicating the exit for Charming was less than a mile away. Her arms literally ached with the need to hold Abel. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she'd left her father without so much as a good bye.

'I'll call him in the morning before I turn myself in to Wayne. I know that one number on the caller ID is his room. At least I'll be able to tell him I'm trying to make things right before I go away for a few years. He'll still die alone, but at least I'll have told him I tried to make it right.'

She followed the road into Charming, passing the darkened restaurant where Jacob Hale had first introduced his brother to Zobelle and Weston. Most of the businesses on Main Street were closed, including Floyd's and Charming Pawse. 'I'll miss her whiskey blend coffee and the pastries. I'll miss her, too. She might be home, think I'll stop in and talk to her before I head to Jax's. She'll see why I have to do this and eventually convince the guys.'

She respected Tig's old lady for the line she walked with the club and her morals. She appreciated how the business owner protected and cared for Tig without making him change his ways. 'Men like him never admit that they want a strong woman to anchor them. Cat's been that for him. She's and I are a lot alike; the guys will listen to her.'

The Cutlass rounded the corner and pulled into the driveway leading to Tig and Cat's house. Two Chrysler's sat in the drive. 'The black PT has to be Cat's replacement. The other must be her friend's.'

Gemma walked to the porch and rang the doorbell. A light shone through the curtains to the living room and the stereo was playing. The only living being to respond to the doorbell was Ebony, who leapt onto the padded bench strategically placed under the window.

"Hi, big boy. Where's your mom?" Gemma whispered through the glass. The black cat meowed at her, rearing up on his hind legs and placing his paws firmly on the window glass.

"Wish I spoke feline, so I'd know what you're tellin' me, pretty thing. Guess your mom and her friend are out." She rested her hand against the window, realizing sadly that she'd never see the feline trio alive again. 'By the time I'm released, they'll be nothing but a memory."

Ebony seemed to sense her mood, he pawed at the window as if he could dig his way to her. He meowed urgently, continuing to paw at the window as Gemma walked slowly back to the Cutlass.

Gemma climbed into the driver's seat, pausing long enough to light another cigarette. She smiled sadly at the sight of the large feline stretched to his full length, running his paws frantically along the window. She started the engine again and backed from the drive. The headlights briefly illuminated the living room window, turning the large cat's eyes into green glowing jewels.

Gemma drove the short distance from Cat and Tig's house to Jax's. The street was dark and quiet. So was Jax's house. Unlike the domicile she'd just left, her son's home was as dark and quiet as the street he lived on. The pickup truck was the only vehicle around, parked in its' usual place on the street. Neeta's station wagon was noticeably absent.

'Doesn't mean anything. Could be somethin' wrong with the car. Neeta might've been given a ride and is stayin' at the house.' Gemma assured herself, pulling into the drive and leaving the car running.

She used her key to access the dark house, pausing just long enough to give her eyesight time to adjust. She called the nanny's name, allowing her purse to fall to the floor.

Gemma ran into the nursery, the crib was empty. There was no sign that Abel had been there, and Neeta was not in the house. She ran back to her purse, dug out the cell and frantically dialed Neeta's phone number.

The line rang several times, but there was no answer. 'Where in Hell could she have taken him?'

Neeta glanced at her phone, not recognizing the telephone number on the display. 'That has to be Gemma's throwaway. I don't like hiding Abel's disappearance from her. I understand the need, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.'

The phone quit ringing and Neeta activated it, relieved that Gemma hadn't left a message. She dialed Lyla's number.

"Neeta? Did she call?" Lyla asked breathlessly.

"Just now. I don't know if she's in town or not, she didn't leave a message. She called from the throwaway. I did what you said and didn't answer."

Lyla closed her eyes with relief. The secret was still safe. She was proud of herself to have thought of calling Neeta to give her a heads up about the situation while the Land Rover was still in Stockton.

Cat had already fallen asleep and Lyla had briefed their actor friend on the events that led to Gemma going on the lam and Abel's disappearance.

"Whew!" the actor whistled. "Do ye evva 'ave enny doon tyme?"

"I'll let you know," Lyla replied wryly. The thought occurred to her that Gemma might reach out to Neeta by phone if she returned to Charming before they did. She pulled out her cell and dialed Neeta's phone.

"Hey, Neeta, it's Lyla. How's the kids?"

"They're fine. Homework's done, they ate well, and they're watching a movie," Neeta replied.

"Good. Listen, Neeta. Gemma's on her way back, she wants to see Abel. Whatever you do, don't answer the phone when she calls. She'll either call from her throwaway phone or Jax's house."

"I don't agree with keeping her in the dark about the child. She's his grandmother, she needs to know," Neeta protested.

"I know. But not tonight, Neeta. Please do this."

There was silence on the other end, then Neeta reluctantly agreed. "I'll call you as soon as I hear from Gemma."

The Land Rover was still 10 minutes away from Charming. The driver had pushed the massive vehicle nearly to the red line on the tachometer, going more than 20 mph over the speed limit. No cops had stopped them. An accident that blocked two lanes caused a long delay as three lanes of traffic fought to merge into one.

Lyla explained the situation to the babysitter. "We're almost there. We'll head on to the clubhouse," Lyla added before cutting off the call.

Cat stirred and sat up straight in the seat. She'd heard Lyla's side of the conversation and her mind had alerted her to wake up. She pulled out her iPhone and pressed the number for the

clubhouse.

"SAMCRO clubhouse," an unfamiliar voice rumbled in her ear.

"This is Cat, Tig's old lady. Who's this?"

"Filthy Phil. One of the hang arounds. Chuckie's in the garage office if you're lookin' for him."

"Thanks, but I don't have time to repeat this and need you to listen closely," Cat frowned slightly, trying to place the name to the face. She recalled seeing him a few times at the clubhouse, recalling a tall man with a stocky build, curly dark hair and wire framed glasses. 'He's definitely not filthy!'

She explained that Gemma was on her way to town in search of her grandchild. "She'll go to Jax's first, she's bound to show up there when she finds the house empty. Tell everyone to say nothing to her about Abel's disappearance. I'm about 10 minutes away, and the guys should get there any minute."

Filthy Phil didn't bristle at the authoritative tone in her voice. The hang arounds and Croweaters knew that if an old lady told them to take action in a crisis, they were to obey unquestioningly. "I understand, Lady Cat. Miles and some of the Croweaters are here. I'll fill 'em in."

"Thanks." She sighed and lay her head back against the seat.

"Y'all OK, chick?" June inquired worriedly.

"Fine, kittenface. I just hope we can keep Gemma from findin' out about Abel, and keep the Feds from findin' her. I've got a really bad feelin' about this."

Gemma was growing frantic. Something wasn't right. She couldn't recall a time that Neeta would fail to answer the phone, even if she didn't recognize the number. 'Could Abel be sick and in the hospital? That'd be the only reason she'd not have the phone turned on!"

She started to turn the Cutlass towards St. Thomas. 'Dammit! I can't just show up at the hospital. Think a moment, woman! It could be something as simple as a dead phone battery!' She decided to go to the garage and clubhouse. Neeta might've stopped by to let the Croweaters see the baby. She could also safely call hospital information from the garage.

The parking lot looked strange with all the guys' bikes gone. The hang rounds were parked near the clubhouse, while Tig's Dyna and Cat's Yamaha were parked closer to the garage. A few cars that belonged to the Croweaters were parked across the lot along the garage wall.

Gemma stopped the car next to the clubhouse entrance and raced inside. Three Croweaters sat at a table, drinking beer and talking quietly. Two of the hang arounds were shooting pool.

They looked up as she burst in. It didn't register until much later with Gemma that they didn't seem surprised to see her. The men at the pool table glanced at each other before the shorter of the two replied negatively to her inquiry about Neeta and Abel.

Gemma didn't wait for the Croweaters to answer. She ran out of the clubhouse, striding across the lot towards the office. The throwaway in her pocket rang. She dug it out of her pocket, hoping it was Neeta calling her back.

The voice on the other end of the line wasn't Neeta's. It was a voice she remembered from the past, and had hoped never to hear again. The voice of the woman who'd stolen John Teller's heart from her.

Gemma felt her heart race at the sound of Maureen Ashby's voice. She felt light headed and found it hard to breathe again. A cold, icy fist seemed to touch her heart as Maureen briskly informed her that Cameron Hayes had taken Abel, and that her grandson was in Belfast.

Maureen flipped the cell phone closed as soon as she made her announcement, cutting off Gemma's surprised exclamation. 'Tha's shure ta bring tha mother charter 'ere. Ah've dun wha Kellen ashked me ta do. Ah 'ope Ah dinnae live ta regret this.'

The roar of approaching Harleys alerted Gemma to the presence of her boys. The phone slipped from her nerveless fingers. The shock of learning that Abel was missing and her family had kept that knowledge from her overloaded her struggling heart.

The headlights of the approaching Harleys bathed her in their bright beams, making everything around her shine brightly. As the men stopped their bikes, Gemma seemed to melt to the ground in front of their horrified eyes.