The characters and events involving the Sons of Anarchy are the creation of Kurt Sutter.

No copyright infringement is intended.

Any use of lyrics and the mention of songs and performers in this text is also not intended to infringe upon any copyrights held by any of the artists.

All original characters that are not part of the SOA universe are products of my own imagination. Any similarities to real persons are pure coincidence.

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

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

Charming Pawse

Book III

Chapter II

So

Tig

Goes to OR

Cat awoke in the middle of the night following another delicious workout with Alex. She should've been tired enough to go right back to sleep, but it eluded her.

Alex lay beside her, one arm wrapped around her waist. He was sound asleep and oblivious to her restlessness. She listened to his breathing and light snores harmonizing with the felines.

Ming and Ebony were curled in the chair while Misty was curled up at the foot of the bed. The house was quiet, but Cat felt uneasy. She lay still, staring up at the ceiling, until she finally realized what was bothering her.

'Stahl and her stable of Feds are gonna be keepin' an eye on all of us, hopin' to get a lead on Gemma. If they see Alex leavin' town for no good reason, they'll get suspicious. I can't sleep with this buggin' me. Might as well get up and see what I can do about findin' some plausible reason for him to go North without me.'

She slid out from under his arm and off the bed, pulling a robe over her. She smoothed the sheets over him, turned, padded out of the bedroom and on into the office, closing the door so she wouldn't disturb him.

She logged into her account, launching the internet explorer to access her home page, then inserted her CD labeled 'Rebel Tunes' into the disc drive, easing a pair of headphones over her ears while being careful not to touch the lump on her head. Her foot started moving in time with Tom Petty's 'You Don't Know' as her personal home page loaded.

Cat alternated tapping her foot and her fingers in time to the music. She started singing along to the music, remembering to keep her voice down so she wouldn't wake Alex. The music helped put in the right frame of mind for the job she'd undertaken.

She crouched in front of the computer screen until her neck muscles were sore and she was squinting at the screen. Despite the physical discomforts, she determinedly surfed the internet, saving tid bits in a file for later scrutiny.

Once she'd found all the information on various West Coast events that she met her criteria, Cat went back and reviewed the file, examining each item for the best possible cover story. 'It's gotta be able to stand up to Stahl's considerable scrutiny."

Eventually, Cat found what she considered the perfect cover story for Alex's trip North. With a few key taps and a couple of secure online payments, she locked it in.

Gemma was safe and far away from the ATF's reach. She'd remain there until the truth came out about the deaths in the Galt safe house. Clay would stay with her, while Jax continued the search for Abel.

While Clay was North of the border, he would make inquiries into starting a charter there. In his absence, Tig had been sent back to Charming to helm SAMCRO until Abel was found.

'It'll be good to be with my wife again. She wasn't kiddin' about road sex. Lets off steam but

not really satisifyin'. Hell, I even miss the furry ones!'

Each mile that brought him closer to Charming made his heart beat faster in anticipation. He hadn't been able to make contact with her by phone for the last two days, since he started his journey back home. The voice mail would pick up on the two – way as well as the home phone.

He'd even called the coffeehouse during a rest break in hopes of finding her there. The call had been more upsetting than if he'd gotten voice mail again.

"Charming Pawse, this is Adrian. How can I help you?"

"It's Tig. Lemme talk to Cat."

There was a pause that lasted too long. "Where is she Adrian? Is she a'right?"

"Sure, Mr. Tig. She's fine. She's not here, that's all."

'I've got a bad feelin' about this!' Tig's hand curled around the cell phone in a death grip. "Where the fuck is she, Adrian? What's goin' on?"

There was another long, uncomfortable pause on the coffeehouse's side of the line. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tig. I can't talk to you. Don't call back." There was genuine regret in Adrian's voice, then the line went silent.

"Fuck!" he shouted, stifling the urge to throw the cell phone across the parking lot. His primal scream caused several mundanes – Cat's favorite word to describe regular people outside the MC world – to stare quizzically at him then scurry about their business.

He'd stopped less than an hour from Charming. 'If I ride hard, I'll can be home in half the time!' He leapt onto the Harley and thumbed the starter. The engine roared defiantly, echoing his mood.

Tig's mind touched upon every possible bad news scenario as mile after mile passed in a blur. He dodged slower traffic like a mad man, earning a few flipped birds and loud, protesting horn honks from unsuspecting motorists. Nothing mattered but that he get back Home.

The Harley roared through the streets of Charming, barely clinging to the posted speed limit. Tig didn't have the patience nor the time to deal with a ticket for speeding. 'Hale would prolong the stop just to make me squirm!'

He felt an iron vise close around the pit of his stomach as he turned the corner and looked for his driveway. 'No vehicles in the drive. Guess June's assignment ended and she returned to Florida. That's her accounted for. Where the fuck is Cat?' .

Tig pulled the Harley into the drive, set the kick stand and ran for the door. For the first time, he didn't feel the thrill of contentment flow through him. He instinctively knew the house wasn't a home for him any longer. It was just walls supporting a roof, but not a roof for his head.

His key turned in the lock just as it always did. The furnishings were still there, but the house was quiet. Too quiet. It felt sterile. Cold. Uninviting.

"Where the Hell is all her stuff?" he strode from room to room, looking for the pictures of family, the books and music, the knick knacks that had made the house an extension of her and found nothing.

He strode back to the kitchen and found the envelope taped to the refrigerator door. Yet another glaring piece of evidence that the anchor in his life was gone. The refrigerator door had once been covered with all kinds of magnets that held pictures and cartoon clippings. Now all he could see were its' pristine, white doors.

The iron vice moved from his gut to his heart as he held the envelope bearing the word 'Alex' in her sprawling, expansive hand. His hands shook, making the envelope flutter. He didn't want to open it, he instinctively knew that it meant the good life he thought he had to depend on forever was over.

'Cat's gone. She couldn't take my killin' Donna by accident. She waited until she could make a clean break, without me around to stop her,' He sank onto a kitchen chair, the envelope bearing his name rested on the table, staring up at him.

His shoulders shook from the effort not to give in to the sense of loss and betrayal that coursed through him. His elbows rested on the table, both hands supporting his head that felt too heavy for his shoulders to hold up on their own.

He inhaled – a deep, shuddering breath that filled his lungs. His head tilted back on his neck as the single word tored from his throat. The heartbroken howl echoed through the empty house.

Alex's eyes popped wide open in the darkness of the bedroom. He was breathing heavily, as if he'd been running with a 10 pound pack strapped to his back. His heart was racing and his body covered with a sheen of sweat.

His hand immediately reached out to Cat's side of the bed, seeking her reassuring presence, only to feel cool sheets. 'She's been gone awhile. Where the fuck is she?' For a brief, heart stopping moment, he feared he'd woken up to the nightmare being reality, and his life with Cat the dream.

'No way, Trager! It was just a dumb ass dream! Cat's not the type to string ya along – make ya think everything's fine - only to use this mission to escape.'

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, then covered his eyes with both hands and drew a deep breath. He held it a few seconds, then let it out and repeated the gesture a few more times until his heart rate had slowed to its' normal pace.

Feeling more in control, Alex stood up and padded to the bathroom. There was no light shining under the door, but he knocked on it anyway and laid his ear against it. "Cat? You a'right, baby?"

His voice woke the cats. They lifted their heads, blinked sleepily, yawned, stretched, and then curled up and went right back to sleep. Their apparent lack of concern over her absence didn't comfort him.

Deafening silence met his inquiry. He opened the door to nothing but the soft illumination of the night light.

He strode to the bedroom door, opened it, and looked down the darkened hallway. To his relief, a strip of light shone under the closed computer room door.

'I should've known she'd be up to somethin'!' he crept softly down the hall to the computer room door and placed his ear against it. The faint sound of tapping keys and Cat's voice drifted to him.

He opened the door a bit and grinned at the sight of her hunched in front of the computer screen. Her voice softly uttering ". . . Singin' 'Sweet Home Alabama' all summer long!" She leaned back in her chair with a sigh, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension.

Unable to restrain himself, Alex crept forward to stand behind her. Needing the reassurance of physical contact, he began massaging the knotted muscles for her.

"Thanks, love. That helps a lot," she murmured in a near purr of contentment, reaching up to remove the headphones. "I figured you'd come lookin' for me when y'all found yerself alone in bed."

"Oh, really?" he growled. "How so?"

"Because you're always grousin' about bein' left alone!"

"Oh, yeah," he replied, slightly let down that his stealthy appearance hadn't startled her. Yet he was absurdly pleased that she knew his touch so well.

"So whatcha doin' there, when you should be in bed with me and getting some rest?"

"Woke up, couldn't get back to sleep and didn't wanna disturb y'all. Somethin' was botherin' me and I decided to do a little research about it," she replied.

"Next time, disturb me. I can always remedy any problem you have gettin' back to sleep!" he leered.

"That's why I didn't bug ya," she retorted. "You've gone through a lot yourself, love. You need rest as much as I do."

He continued massaging her shoulders and the back of her neck, frowning at the tension he felt there. "Your muscles are pretty tight, baby. What the Hell was botherin' you?"

He could hear the music pouring out of the headphones as he worked, and grinned at the sound of Warren Zevon's 'Lawyers, Guns, and Money'. 'Whew! Whatever it is, she got out her kick ass first/take names later music!'

She allowed her muscles to relax under his ministrations to them. "How to keep the Feds from gettin' suspicious about you takin' off and leavin' me," she replied simply. "You can't just ride off and not have Stahl plyin' everyone with questions about it."

"Come up with anything?" He inquired casually. Though his voice didn't betray anything, his fingers tightened involuntarily, digging into her muscles. 'Shit! Nice of her to look out for me, but does she have to be so fuckin' easy goin' about it?"

Cat stifled a wince at the pressure Alex was applying to her sore muscles. She leaned forward just enough to ease the pressure and operate the mouse. "Yeah, I did. It took awhile. It needed to be somethin' that just one person would be goin' too, as opposed to the entire club."

Alex raged inwardly at himself for over reacting and causing her physical distress again. 'Damn it! I've gotta control myself better around her!'

"May I see what you found?" he asked softly.

"There's an auto and motorcycle trade show goin' on in Tacoma. It starts tomorrow and runs for a week," she opened the file and enlarged the internet ad detailing the event. "It looks very promisin'."

Alex crouched beside her chair to read the ad, resting his cheek against her arm as he reviewed the web page.

Cat took her hand and drew his arm over her leg, so that he could use her as an anchor as he read. She lightly stroked his arm and watched his eyes as he read the ad.

Alex was impressed with her choice. The show would have all the major manufacturers on hand displaying their concept vehicles. There would also be a large hall full of vendors. A number of seminars, panel discussions, workshops, and lectures on all manner of subjects related to motorcycle and car repair would be conducted throughout the week.

He grinned knowingly when he saw the banner at the bottom of the page announcing two exhibition halls of vintage vehicles. Among the displays would be cars from George Barris, known as the 'King of Customizers'.

"Sweet!" he murmured approvingly. "I suppose that the Batmobile and Black Beauty being on display had no influence on your decision?"

She cast a sideways glance at him and grinned, "What do you think? I took the liberty of buyin' a registration and booked a room for y'all at a hotel. It's a little far from the venue; all the ones adjacent to the show are booked."

Alex frowned at the screen. "It seems like you're goin' to a lot of expense, baby. There's no guarantee that this will sidetrack Stahl."

"It will be worth it, love. And it will work if everyone she talks to tells her the same thing about your absence!" She retorted challengingly.

Alex stood up so that he towered over her and crossed his arms over his chest. His expression was just as challenging as hers. "And just what will everyone be sayin', baby?"

"That Clay was gonna attend and do some networkin' to drum up business for the garage. Abel's and Gemma's disappearances made it necessary for someone else to go. You're the next best mechanic at the garage, so it made sense for you to go in his place." She ended with a triumphant snort that clearly translated as 'so there!'.

"Next best mechanic?" Alex clutched his chest, acting as if he'd been struck a mortal blow. "You wound me to the core, woman!"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Huh! Stupid macho ego. Doesn't it make a difference that you're numero uno with me?"

"Just in mechanical skills?" he teased.

"Don't start!"

Alex grinned sardonically then pointed at the computer screen. "There's a big hole in your story, baby. The registration was just booked on our computer. Don'tcha think Stahl will have some questions about that?"

Cat thought for a moment, then brightened. "Clay's registration couldn't be transferred this close to the event. He'd intended to stay at the Tacoma clubhouse. A new registration had to be purchased, and with the situation between you and Kozik, the Tacoma clubhouse wasn't workable. I booked the registration and hotel room for y'all."

'I appreciate her support. Sure as shit didn't expect her to come up with somethin' like this! She's really thought this thing out,' He looked up into a corner of the office, pretending to be studying it industriously. He was pleased with her effort to protect him – and the club – from Stahl's mechanizations.

He had no qualms about leaving Charming and taking care of Gemma. It was club business and something he was expected to handle, just like any other mission.

The nightmare clung to his mind like a thick, suffocating blanket. He knew it had been brought on by the guilt he felt over leaving her behind in her weak physical condition. His priorities as SAA and as husband continued an internal battle with each other.

'I appreciate that she's not actin' like the girls' mom; that gash gave me all kinds of holy Hell when I left her for a mission!' Alex grimaced, briefly recalling the knock – down, drag – out fight that ensued when he chose the club over her and the girls.

'Guess it bugs me that Cat acts like this is no big deal. Doesn't she realize how I feel about this? I came so close to losin' her, dammit! Why can't she act just a little like a typical female? It's make me feel better! Doesn't she care?'

He decided right then if she wouldn't willingly display her real feelings about the situation, he'd try to goad it out of her. He needed her to show that she wasn't as happy about the situation as she acted. He lowered his gaze to meet her expectant one and sighed, "It's a good try, baby. I just don't think it'll work."

"Why not?" she replied with that same hint of challenge in her voice.

His eyes glinted in frustration. "Because Stahl will get suspicious about me leavin' you for a fuckin' trade show! Think about it! You just left the damn hospital!"

"Are you crazy?" Cat snapped in exasperation. "No one, especially Stahl, is gonna think twice about Tig Trager leavin' his old lady behind to go a trade show or anyplace else! Jesus Christ!"

'Shit, woman! Do you really think I'm such a cold hearted bastard?' Her matter of fact assessment sliced through his heart like a hot knife through butter.

He watched Cat rummage through a drawer in the file cabinet, thankful that she couldn't see the hurt and disappointment that must've been evident on his face.

"So you're sayin' it doesn't bother you that you're not comin' with me?"

She pulled the rental car contract from the drawer and handed it to him. "I can't make that kind of trip right now on the back of a bike, so whether I like it or not doesn't really matter."

Alex opened his mouth to protest. Thinking he as going to mention that they could take the rental, she added, "As for the rental, it won't be a factor when they see the clause in the contract about takin' it outta state."

"Dammit, woman! That still isn't good enough to explain why I would choose to leave you!" He yelled, anguish making his voice harsh.

'What the Hell is wrong with him? He's never given a damn about appearances before! Why should now be any different?'

She took a deep breath to calm her temper and turned in her chair so she could face him. She suppressed a gasp when she saw the deep pain and betrayal in his expression.

'Dammit, Alex! Why are you choosing now to be thick headed and thin skinned?' She rested her head against his stomach with a tired sigh.

"People like Stahl think of you as the man who does whatever the club needs doin' whenever it needs to be done. It's important right now that people like her continue to believe that. I don't share that opinion of you."

Alex wanted nothing more at that moment than to wrap his arms around her. He needed the reassurance that physical contact with her gave him. He couldn't reach out to her out of fear she'd reject him. His ears heard every word, but his mind found it difficult to take comfort in the words.

'That didn't help,' she thought sadly, gazing up at him and laying her hand over his heart. "Alex, love, didn't you hear me? I don't think that about you!"

Her fingertips stroked his chest right over his heart. "I know what's there. It doesn't matter what the outside world thinks as long as I know the truth," she added softly.

The warmth and sincerity of her assurance broke his momentary paralysis, chasing away the last of the nightmare. 'Shit! She's thinkin' of the big picture as usual! Damn her!'

His hand closed over hers as he bent to nuzzle her neck. "I like the way you think, baby. You're always watchin' my back."

"Just doin' my wifely duty, love," she quipped, sensing that the crisis - whatever it was - had been averted.

"Don't make light of this, Cat," he growled. "You're doin' a Hell of a lot more than 'your wifely duty'. Hell, that fucking 'lone wolf' was lucky if you did half as much for him as you do for me!"

Alex's casual mention of Cory chilled her to the bone. She didn't like thinking of that time in her life and she definitely wasn't going to delve into it at the moment. "That's his problem, love. Not yours," she replied huskily.

"I guess you're right, baby. Sometimes I can't believe my luck at havin' ya on my side."

"Works both ways, love. I'm pretty lucky to have you. Cory's long gone, only the lessons remain. Guess they'll always be there."

She shivered, suddenly as chilled as if the temperature in the room had dropped 20 degrees or more. The image of Cory as she'd last seen him - tall, thin, pale featured, and dark haired with ice blue eyes hidden behind black tinted eyeglasses - momentarily replaced Alex's comforting features.

She resolutely forced the image out of her mind, deliberately picturing all the unpleasantness Cory Brown represented being locked away in a cell where it couldn't easily escape. The effort made her quiver again.

'Way to go, douche bag!' Alex berated himself for ripping open her ancient emotional wounds. He believed there was only one way he could help her.

"Speakin' of lessons, c'mon back to bed. I have a few things to teach ya," Alex leered, turning off the computer and pulling her out of the office.

When Wade Unser learned that Gemma needed help to escape Charming, he'd immediately radioed to dispatch that he was going off duty and out of town on personal business.

"Ten – four, chief," the dispatcher replied.

'That should give me a little time," he thought with relief, stopping at his house long enough to pick up a wad of cash he kept stashed for emergencies. He knew getting cash from an ATM would arouse suspicion and he didn't want to leave a credit card trail.

Though Gemma had no idea where to go, Unser chose to head North. "We're closer to Oregon than we are to Mexico. Less chance of you being captured if we head that way," he explained.

"You're the driver," she grinned tiredly. "I'm just along for the ride. Can you get me through to Cat's room? I need her have her look out for my boys."

"Sure, honey," he gave her the phone so she could dial the number, then took it from her to get the operator to transfer the call. After waiting for the operator to get Cat's permission to put the call through, he handed the phone back to Gemma.

He gleaned from Gemma's side of the conversation what had occurred in Galt, and had to work hard to keep his anger at Stahl under control.

Gemma concluded her conversation with Cat and held the cell out to him. "She needs to talk to you."

He accepted the cell, holding it with one hand while controlling the steering wheel with the other. "What's up, honey?"

Cat advised him not to use the speaker phone and quickly filled him in on Abel's kidnapping and Kip's murder. His hatred for Stahl increased with the news, but he kept his features from showing his pain. He gave Cat his cell phone number and flipped the phone closed.

"She'll call us as soon as she can talk Tig into bringing Clay over so you can talk to him," he informed Gemma.

She nodded tiredly. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat's headrest.

"You're safe now, Gemma. Take a nap."

She didn't reply. Unser glanced at her and smiled indulgently. Gemma was sound asleep.

He drove quite awhile, stopping to fill the cruiser's gas tank before deciding to stop for the night at a major chain hotel off the interstate. He checked in and paid cash for the room. The clerk didn't bat an eye at Unser's request for a room with twin beds.

While Gemma was in the bathroom, Unser checked the local channels for news of events in Charming or for an Amber Alert. 'Nothin' about the deaths, but no state wide Amber Alert. That's not good.'

The sound of the toilet flushing alerted him that Gemma would soon join him. He turned off the television and grabbed the hotel information folder, pretending to be looking at restaurant information.

"Feeling hungry, honey?"

"Not really, Wayne. Any calls?"

He shook his head. "Clay and Tig probably haven't gotten back to Cat's room yet. You really should eat something, honey."

Gemma flopped on the other bed with a sigh. "I suppose you're right on both counts. Just pick anything, Wayne. I don't care."

Unser stared across the room at her. Gemma's face was pale and worn with worry. "I'm sure they guys are OK, honey. Cat would've said somethin' if they weren't."

"If she knew. Shit! This is such a clusterfuck!"

Unser's cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He dug it out and looked at the caller ID. The display read 'unknown number'. "Unser here."

He listened a moment, grinned, and pressed the speaker button on the phone. "It's Cat. The guys are with her."

He watched Gemma relax as she spoke with her family, receiving assurances that all was well, and surprised that they were all at Cat and Tig's house. He accepted the phone from Gemma and took it off speaker so he could talk with Clay without Gemma overhearing.

He had to keep his replies non – committal, so that Gemma wouldn't catch on to how bad things were back home. He acknowledged the arrangements for meeting with SAMPOR and ended the call.

"Feel better, honey?" He pocketed the cell phone and picked up the restaurant folder again.

"Some," Gemma replied, rising fluidly from the bed and striding across the room to stand beside Unser. "Let's take a look at this and see what sounds good."

They agreed on Italian, from a chain known for making good Italian food without it costing a lot of money. Unser drove out to the restaurant to get their order, using the private time to check the police radio.

He didn't think his hatred for Stahl could get any worse until he heard the announcement that the Amber Alert had been canceled by the ATF. 'That bitch! She's using the kid to draw Gemma out!'

By the time he returned with the food, Unser had managed to gain control of emotions. Keeping Gemma in the dark about Abel was important at the moment. The truth made it difficult for Unser to sleep that night.

The rendezvous between SAMPOR and Chief Unser went off without a hitch the next morning. With SAMPOR taking over protecting Gemma, Unser was able to return to Charming before the Feds had any idea that he was out of town.

SAMPOR relocated Gemma from the major hotel to a small, locally owned motel well off the main highway just over the state line. She would remain there until Tig arrived. In the meantime, SAMRRO set up different safe places in the area for them to use. All the hotels were owned by trusted friends of the club.

Cat considered giving Alex a ride to the garage for his back up bike, so he could leave the Dyna and his cut at home, but quickly decided against it. 'Can't take the risk. No sense in callin' unwanted attention to his departure. Takin' him to the garage would definitely stir suspicion.'

She was up before Alex later that morning, slipping quietly from the bed to wash and dress before feeding the cats. Then she drove out to the Teller – Morrow lot to pick up Chuckie and bring him back to the coffeehouse.

"Mornin', Miss Cat," Chuckie greeted her as he slid into the front seat of the rental.

"Back at y'all," she replied. Her left arm rested along the open window of the Shabby Lay. The sunlight glinted on her revamped ring, drawing Chuckie's attention.

Cat glanced at him, then at her left hand and shrugged mentally. 'Nothin' I can do about it now.'

"Nice bit of bling there," Chuckie observed once the rental exited the garage lot. "That's new, isn't it? Didn't see it last night."

"Thanks. It's a present from Tig," she replied casually. 'Now what am I gonna do?' Her mind started working furiously as she knew Chuckie was going to ask questions.

"But why are you wearing it on the left ring finger?" Chuckie inquired. "Isn't that unusual?"

"Not in the MC world," Cat replied. "Tig needed to make it evident that I belong to him. I don't like tattoos that mark me as somebody's property, so we compromised. Tig had this made for me." She glanced sideways at Chuckie, watching his reaction.

"I accept that. Nice design," he held his palm out. "May I see it?"

"I'm not takin' it off to show it to you. Wait 'til we get to the driveway, you can look at it then."

Chuckie nodded and patiently looked out the window as the HHR prowled down the street towards the house. Cat spotted a large van with mirrored windows sitting across the street.

'Don't remember seein' that before. Could just be a new purchase by one of the neighbors. But there's somethin' about those mirrored windows that gives me the creeps.'

After she parked the HHR in the drive and shut off the ignition, Cat turned slightly in her seat and held out her left hand to Chuckie. "OK, kiddo, take a good look."

He examined the two golden cats and their entwined tails, then at the different colored collars. Cat watched him intensely, preparing herself for any probing questions he might ask.

"The large one with the red collar must be Tig, and the smaller one you. Do those colors represent your birthstones?"

"How'd you figure that out?" Cat glanced up at him.

"I heard the guys at the coffeehouse mention your birthdays. The blue stone is indicative of December, so I reasoned out the rest."

She nodded at his reasoning. "You figured correctly. It really bowled me over when he gave it to me," she replied.

"That's one way for the man to mark what's his, and for you to avoid being needled!" Chuckie grinned.

"Out! Outta my car!" Cat snarled, pretending to be incensed by his pun.

"I accept that!" Chuckie grinned as he opened the door. "Except that it's a rental, and not your car!" He hustled to the back yard before she could hurl an appropriately scathing response.

She laughed as she followed after Chuckie. She felt relief that her quick thinking had warded off any further probing on his part.

She purchased fresh Snicker Bar Muffins for Alex's breakfast along with a small package of the whiskey blend coffee and a few plastic wrapped muffins for his trip. After chatting briefly with Miss Anna, she returned to the house.

Alex was drinking coffee in the kitchen when she entered the house. "I'm gettin' damn tired of wakin' up and findin' ya gone! Where in the Hell have ya been?" he growled.

"You're gonna be wakin' up without me for awhile, might as well get in practice!" she retorted. "Since y'all can't say a pleasant good mornin', I'm tempted to take your breakfast back to the coffeehouse!"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! That's not very nice!" He leapt to his feet and made a grab for the pastry bag she held.

"Neither was your greetin'!" she growled. "Ever hear of sayin' 'good mornin'?"

Alex wrapped his arms around her, fitting her against him and bestowing a thorough good morning kiss on her. One hand slowly roamed down her arm to her hand then suddenly snagged the pastry bag from her grasp.

"Good mornin', baby! Thanks for breakfast!" He grinned in triumph as he released her and settled into his chair, digging out one of the dark brown confections he loved from the bag.

"Y'all ain't welcome!" she snarled, but her good eye gleamed wickedly. "I was only gone long enough to take Chuckie to work. Kinda nice to know y'all missed me!"

He sank his teeth into the moist, crumbly, and sweet baked item. "Damn straight, baby," he muttered through a mouthful of baked bliss, "I'm really gonna miss your muffin!"

"Bet you say that to all your old ladies," she replied flippantly.

"Nope, there's only one old lady in my life, wife," he replied with a grin.

"Charmer," she murmured, slipping past him and dropping a kiss on his damp hair.

"Where ya goin'?"

"If y'all hafta ask, ya don't wanna know!" she quipped, slipping away from his attempt to grab her. She left him to his sugar orgy and walked into the bedroom, where she found his duffel lying open on the bed.

She slipped the package of coffee and muffins in an outer pocket, then stepped into the computer room to retrieve the notebook computer and power pack, which she placed in the bottom of his duffel.

'Never know when it might be needed. Internet ready, easy to hook up and he can use it anyplace where wi – if is available. Another way to stay connected and off the radar.'

Alex's eyes popped open, his breathing rapid and his body coated in sweat again. He experienced a feeling of deja vu when he found himself alone in the bed once again.

'Shit! I've got to get hold of myself! She's told me she accepts this mission so why am I puttin' myself through this shit?"

He sat up, using the deep breathing techniques to calm his breathing and heart rate. 'Guess I'm still not over damn near losin' her. Time to get your shit together, Trager.'

The nightmare and waking up alone put him in a foul mood. His mood got worse as he wandered through the house to the kitchen and the enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and he glanced out the living room window. The spot where the HHR had been parked was empty.

Sunlight glinted on a vehicle parked across the street that hadn't been there the night before. The vehicle was a tan and white van with mirrored windows.

'Shit! That's looks like the van that was parked across the street from the safe house! Stahl ain't wastin' time!'

He grabbed a bug detector, stepped outside, and casually walked along the driveway to pick up the paper lying in the yard. As he stood up, he glanced at the van, confirming his suspicion. 'Yup, it's the same one, a'right.'

He turned and strode back to the front porch, leaning against the railing with his back to the street. He pretended to look over the headlines while he smoked. The open paper hid the bug scanner.

The device was more advanced than the one he'd used on Opie's truck some time ago. It wasn't necessary to run this detector directly over anything he wanted to check. He breathed a sigh of relief when the detector showed all was clear outside and walked into the house.

Alex made a thorough sweep of the house and the landline, the detector showing that the house was bug free. He showered, dressed, and then pulled his duffel bag from the closet, laying it on the bed. He couldn't concentrate on packing; he was too anxious about Cat's continued absence from the house.

He prowled out to the kitchen, casting a stern glare at the van as he passed the living room window. He returned to the kitchen and frowned at the empty space in the bread box where his Snicker Bar Muffins should be. Sighing in resignation, he poured a cup of coffee and settled at the kitchen table with his coffee and the newspaper.

He was retrieving his second cup of coffee when he heard the sound of car doors slamming. He glanced out front to see the HHR sitting in the driveway, but no sign of Cat or Chuckie. 'She must be walkin' to the coffeehouse with him. Damn it!'

He'd worked himself into a simmering boil by the time she returned to the house with his breakfast. Though his mood lightened from the offering of Snicker Bar Muffins, it gained heat again as he packed his bag.

'Fuck that she's OK with this! I'm not OK with it! She's still hurtin'. I should behere, not hundreds of miles away! Damn Stahl to Hell!' He puncuated his thoughts with throwing his clothes forcefully into the duffel bag.

"There's no use beatin' yer head against a brick wall, love," Cat advised from the door frame where she was leaning with her mug of coffee. "It just hurts your head and annoys the Hell out of the wall."

"Still doesn't mean I have to like this," he grumbled.

"Didn't we already dance this waltz, love?" She smiled to take the sting out of her words, wishing the pain she felt didn't make her sound snappish.

"We did," he replied. "I notice you're loanin' me the laptop. More of that 'be prepared' shit?"

She nodded, unable to trust her voice not to betray her true feelings. It was difficult for her to watch Alex pack, as it meant the time for his departure was looming ever closer.

Alex pretended not to notice her unusual silence. "I'm leavin' ya one of the bug scanners. Don't trust Stahl any further than you can throw the bitch. You remember how to work it?"

She nodded again. 'I'm not gonna act like a girl!' She thought furiously.

"Be sure to check the perimeter and the phones - cell and landline - every few hours," he advised.

"Why so often?" Her voice sounded normal to her, which was a surprise, considering the size of the lump in her throat. Inside, she was quaking like a dead leaf clinging to a tree on a windy day.

"Trust me on this, baby," he replied, giving her his own version of 'the look'. "I'll have the two – way; takin' a throwaway. Use the two – way to call me unless I say otherwise."

"What if you need a contact from your phone? I know you never write 'em down!"

He moved to stand in front of her, taking her in his arms and laying his chin on her head. "That's why I'm leavin' the prepaid, baby. Safest place for it, and gives me an excuse to call ya."

Her arms stole around his waist as her cheek rested against his chest. The hairs on his bare chest tickled her nose. "As if you need an excuse! I've been tryin' to figure out how to keep y'all from callin' at all!"

Alex gently held her away from him just enough that he could gaze into her good eye. "Not a chance, baby! I'm keepin' some contact with you, even if it's short. No arguments!"

She playfully swatted his backside with her good hand before snuggling against his chest. "Much as I might miss ya, we gotta play it smart. The Fed's will expect us to be in contact every day. I'd prefer us to keep the conversations as short as possible, keep 'em off track."

"You gotta couple of points there, baby," he grinned wolfishly. "And they feel kinda nice right now – wait a minute! What the fuck do ya mean, you 'might' miss me?"

She tilted her face up to his, her good eye glinting with amusement. "Took ya a couple of seconds to catch on, big boy! I am tryin' to be practical here!"

"Evil woman! You're askin' for trouble, y'know that?"

"Like y'all got time to do anything about it!" she challenged.

"I've always got time to teach you a lesson baby!" he growled, sliding his hands up under her shirt. "Consider class in session!" His lips claimed hers so that any other suggestions she might've offered were deliciously smothered.

"Hey, OK for me to come over?" Frosty's voice laughed over the receiver. "Check out's comin' up; I don't want to have to pay for a night I won't be usin'."

"C'mon over man," Alex replied grandly, holding Cat close. "It's your friend, baby."

"Our friend," she corrected languidly, taking the receiver from his hand. "Mornin', fuzz face. Been up awhile?"

"Honey, I work mornin's, remember? I've been up since the crack of dawn! Y'all get any sleep?" he laughed.

"You are such a devil!" she retorted. "Can y'all do us a favor, darlin'?"

"Of course, y'all don't have to ask. What do you need?"

"Would y'all mind pickin' somethin' up for lunch for us? I'm really not in the mood to cook," she replied.

"No problem, kitten. Y'all want anything special?" Frosty's voice had slipped into their native Hoosier accent. He sounded more like her than the LA radio talk show host.

"Alex? You want anything particular for lunch?"

"Nah," he replied off handedly. "Just as long as it's not any of that fermented cabbage shit you sometimes eat."

"Surprise us, darlin'," Cat replied.

"Gotcha. See ya in a bit," Frosty replied.

Cat reached across Alex to put the phone back on the bedside table and found herself engulfed in a firm embrace. Her left hand was held firmly in his as he gazed at her wedding ring.

"Chuckie raised a few questions about that," she advised.

Alex narrowed his eyes, gazing at the solitary item of jewelry. 'I've got a bad feelin' about this!'

"He admired it, but wanted to know why I was wearing it on the all important 'ring finger'."

'Shit! This wasn't supposed to cause problems!' He growled an inquiry, "What'd you tell him?"

She smiled impishly. "That I wouldn't allow you to have 'property of' tattooed on me, so you compromised by having this ring made to mark me as belongin' to y'all."

Alex grinned wickedly. "You mean I could've just had my name tattooed on ya?"

"Nope. I like the ring better. But it occurs to me that wearin' this is gonna raise attention we don't need."

"You're not gonna hide it again!" he protested.

"No. I'm not," she replied resolutely. She sat up on the side of the bed, opened the drawer on her bedside table, and withdrew a small wooden box.

"My grandpa made this when I graduated high school," she murmured softly, her fingers caressing the smooth wood. "Not a bit of metal on it."

Alex's slid over to sit next to her, his fingers covered hers as his fingertips brushed over the box, gazing at her obvious adoration for the hand – made token. 'I'm beginning to understand her preference for simple and small treasures,' He gazed in appreciation at the craftsmanship of the box. "He was quite a talented woodworker."

"You don't know the half of it," she replied huskily. Her younger uncle had never developed the knack of woodworking the way his father, her grandfather, had. She opened the box to reveal a felt lined interior and several items of jewelery, including a few rings.

"I thought you weren't into that kind of shit, baby!"

"I prefer not to wear a lot of jewelery, love," she murmured. "All that stuff tended to get in the way of my fun, like climbin' trees and playin' ball games. Definitely never felt a need to wear what amounts to decorative brass knuckles."

"Nice of you to realize that's what I wear 'em for," he retorted wryly. "You plannin' on becoming some kinda fashion plate?"

"Not on your life! I can't stand the idea of havin' a ring on every finger like all y'all do," she lifted a silver ring with a cat's head on it from the depths of the box.

The cat had garnet eyes and shaped so that it looked as if it was curled up with it's tail wrapped around it's front paws.

She slipped it on the index finger of her right hand, then withdrew a gold band with black letters engraved on it. A red heart served as punctuation for the words 'My Cat Rescued Me.' That ring went on the fourth finger of her right hand.

"Bill gave you those."

She nodded. "I haven't worn these since – well - for a long time."

"You think they'll draw attention from my ring," he observed.

"You don't mind?" she asked softly.

"Baby, this is prolly the only time that I don't mind ya wearin' rings some other man gave ya."

She nodded and removed another ring, a small band of silver with a large circle on the top. The words 'Harley Davidson' were stamped in the circle.

"I know Bill didn't give you that!" Alex remarked.

"You're right. I've had it for years, long before Bill and I met."

'I don't like where this might be leadin',' he frowned. "Who gave it to you?"

"What makes you think anyone gave it to me?" she replied evasively. "Women do buy jewelery for themselves!"

He glared at her while trying hard to keep his temper in check. "Quit fuckin' around, Cat! Tell me who gave it to ya!"

She winced at the tension in his voice. She knew the answer would make him blow a gasket, no matter how she tried to sugar coat it. "Cory gave it to me," she admitted softly.

"Why in the Hell would you keep anything from

that rat bastard?" Alex exploded, attempting to remove the ring from her palm.

She held the ring just beyond his reach, resting a hand on his arm. "Take it easy, love! There's a madness to my method!"

He glared at the offending ring and snorted in annoyance. Then he reached out to grip her chin in his fingers, holding it so she couldn't look away from his intense gaze.

"Baby, I am not happy that you've had that thing all this time!" His eyes narrowed angrily as a sudden realization came to mind. "Don't even think of tellin' me you're gonna wear it on the same hand as my ring!"

"The person who gave it to me means nothin' to me anymore!" She retorted. "Hell, I just thought that a bike ring would be symbolic of the two of us – just as these rings," she held up her right hand as she spoke, "represent my time with Bill!"

"I understand what you're tryin' to do, baby, but I don't like the way you're goin' about it!"

Her eye flashed green fire at him. He met her glare with one of his own. "Keepin' a reminder of that asshole around isn't good for you. I'm not gonna have it!" He quickly plucked the trinket from her relaxed palm.

"I know you think I should've pitched everything that reminds me of – that time. Not all of the memories are bad. I was young and emotionally vulnerable when he was in my life. It's not unhealthy to remember the few genuine good moments we had."

"You can remember all ya want! You're not gonna keep this damn thing, woman! I hate who gave it to you and I'll be God damned if you're gonna keep it any longer! I'm gettin' rid of this thing - no argument!" He grinned wolfishly at her. "A man's gotta draw the line somewhere!"

She glared at him for a few moments, then sighed in surrender. "Don't go gettin' all big headed about me sayin' this, but y'all are right, love."

He grinned in triumph. "Where's a tape recorder when I need it!"

"You're never gonna let me forget admittin' that, are ya?"

He shook his head, still holding her chin in his hand. "I don't understand why you'd keep that thing all these years!"

She stared at him in momentary disbelief. 'Oh no you didn't! That comin' from the man who's mourned Missy every single day for the last eight years?'

Alex regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. 'Shit! Who am I to talk? How many times has Cat put up with me moonin' over Missy?' He lowered his gaze, waiting for her scathing censure. 'Can't blame her for rubbin' my nose in it this time!'

To his surprise, he felt her hand gently caress his cheek. "Sentiment and loss makes people do some strange and seemingly foolish things, love. Only the person who suffered the loss really understands why they carry on a certain way, or cling to mementos," she explained softly.

His gaze met hers again, relieved that she wasn't upset with his hyprocracy. "You're not a fool. I understand what you're sayin', baby. Doesn't mean I like it, but I understand it." He frowned menacingly, "But no more sentiment about that asshole!"

He rolled over to his side of the bed, opened the drawer to his bedside table, and withdrew a wooden cigar box. He opened it, removed something from it, then placed the box back in the drawer and returned to her side of the bed.

He held his palm open to reveal a large black and silver ring. It sported a shield with the words 'Harley Davidson' in the center. The words 'motor' and 'cycles' were carved above and below the Harley Davidson centerpiece. All the lettering was in black. The shield had wings on either side of it.

"This was my first bike ring, baby. It served me pretty well for years," he murmured as he slipped it on the index finger of her left hand. "If you wanna wear somethin' related to bikes to symbolize us, wear this."

Cat stared down at her hands that were entwined with his. On one rested gold and silver rings from her past with Bill; on the other, gold and silver rings symbolizing her present and future with Alex.

Her silence didn't make Alex uncomfortable; he easily discerned the path her thoughts were traveling. "That looks much better, baby."

He slid beside her so that his back rested against the headboard and drew her against him, tossing the offending ring into his open duffel. "Think we've got a little time before your friend gets here?"

"You're insatiable!" She smacked his chest playfully. "I'm beginnin' to think y'all have a stash of Viagra or Cialis I don't know about!"

"Don't need that shit, baby," Alex crooned, running his hands along her back as he fit her to him.

"Maybe I should consider stockin' up on some energy pills of some kind," she joked, nuzzling his chin. "Y'all wear me out!"

'That's the intention. At least today, baby!'

Frosty signed his name with a flourish to the credit slip for the B and B, completing the last of the check out process. "Where's a good place to get a take – out meal? Preferably something close to home cookin'," he asked the clerk.

"There's a nice diner on Main Street, across from Floyd's Barber Shop. They have great home – cooked meals available for take out at a reasonable price." The clerk wrote the address out for Frosty, sliding it across the desk. "Hope you'll come back, Mr. Stills."

"I might. A good friend of mine owns a business here. She's recovering from an accident," he replied.

"Ms. Marshall is a friend of yours?" The clerk took the charge slip back and tore it up, entering a void into the credit card link. "Your stay is on us. Ms. Marshall did a great thing for this town, and any friend of hers deserves a free night's stay!"

"You don't have to do that," Frosty protested weakly.

"It's already done. Will you be seeing her later?"

He nodded, a little overwhelmed by the owner's generosity.

"Give her my regards for a speedy recovery," the B and B owner replied.

"I will, and thank you," Frosty replied. He departed the B and B, shaking his head in wonderment. He slid behind the wheel of his car and motored down Main Street to the diner.

'Hard to believe this is the same block where Alex and the rest of his club held that stand off against the other club," he mused, passing by 'Impeccable Smokes'. The windows and door had been boarded up, leaving the wooden Indian Chief standing in front to serve as a silent sentinel.

'Makes sense for the owner to protect his property from damage until he can rent it again.'

Frosty parked his car and walked into the diner, grinning at the decor. It took him back to the Mom and Pop operations in many Hoosier small towns, including the one he'd grown up in.

The diner was decorated with Formica topped tables and plastic and metal chairs. Round stools made of metal and bolted to the floor lined the counter. A large juke box against the back wall belted out classic rock and roll.

A red – haired waitress wearing a pink uniform and a beehive hairdo smiled at him. "What's it gonna be, hon?"

"What's the special today?" he asked with an answering grin.

"Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, green beans and pie, hon. Want some?" Her pencil was poised over her pad, ready to write down the order.

"Sounds good. Make that three orders to go, please."

"Hey, Mel!" The waitress called over her shoulder. "Three specials in a bag!"

"Gotcha, Flo!" Mel called from the kitchen.

"You want some coffee while you're waiting, hon?" Flo asked Frosty. "It's not like that fancy stuff down the street, or at Latte Da, but it's hot and fresh."

"Sure, coffee would be nice," Frosty replied, perching on one of the counter stools to wait for his order.

Flo set a cup in front of him and poured the coffee from a glass pot that had rested on a nearby burner.

Frosty added a couple of sugars and a hefty amount of cream, stirred it and took a sip.

'Definitely not Cat's brew. It's palatable, but not as good,' he mused, assuming an expression akin to ecstasy.

"Nice try, hon," Flo grinned knowingly. "It's a little strong. The laborers and the old guys like it that way. You're not from around here."

Frosty shook his head as he took another sip of the coffee. "I'm from Los Angeles."

"Welcome to Charming. We're smog free and a small town and we like it that way," Flo announced.

"Hey, Flo!" One of the old men called out. "You gonna flap your jaws at the newcomer there, or can a body get a refill?"

"Hold your horses! I'm comin'!" Flo called back, popping her gum as she waltzed around the diner, refilling coffee cups.

"Thanks. I'm originally from a small town, kinda easy to get lost in the big city," Frosty replied, returning the waves of the locals sitting around the diner. Several older men were sitting around a table, eyeing a checker board and sipping their coffee.

"Order up, Flo!" Mel hollered from the kitchen.

"That didn't take long," Frosty remarked.

"Never does when the special is already made and kept warm in the oven and the stove!" Flo replied with a laugh.

"Flo! Stop jaw jackin' and get this order out while it's hot!" Mel hollered good naturedly.

"Mel! Kiss my grits!" Flo retorted.

"When you put honey, cinnamon, butter and sugar on 'em, I'll gladly kiss 'em!" Mel replied.

Frosty and the old men chortled at Mel's reply. Flo laughed as well as she rang up Frosty's order and handed over the bag.

"Smells great!" he said enthusiastically as he handed over a bill. "Keep the change, Miss Flo."

"Big spender!" she smiled teasingly. "Come back any time!"

"I'll do that," Frosty called over his shoulder as he walked out the door. The smell of the food made his mouth water. He'd skipped breakfast, having slept in for one of the few times in his broadcasting life.

He drove past Charming Pawse, recalling Flo's comment about the other coffeehouse. He noted with satisfaction that Cat's coffeehouse was enjoying a steady stream of customers.

His vehicle rounded the corner and made another right onto Cat and Alex's street. He decided to park on the street, instead of pulling into the drive.

Carl Roderick looked up at his supervisor in consternation. "A surprise inspection at Charming Pawse? They just had their regular inspection last week and passed – as usual!"

The supervisor shrugged. "We get complaints, we check them out. This complaint came from an administrator at St. Thomas Hospital. You would've had to make a surprise inspection, anyway, had a complaint not been filed."

"Why's that?"

"She's applied to provide pastries to the prison in Stockton. State requires her place be checked out before they approve or deny the application."

"That coffeehouse is so clean a person could eat off the floors!" Carl replied. "No matter when we show up to inspect, there's never any violations. Even the cat room is clean, and no evidence that the cats get out of that special room!"

The supervisor leaned over Roderick's desk, "Between you and me, this stinks of someone retaliating against Ms. Marshall. But since it came from the hospital, and not those LOAN assholes, we've got to treat it as legit."

"Well, they'll pass, they always do, but I'll bet Ms. Marshall won't be happy about it," Carl scoffed.

"That's one bet you'd win, if anyone around here was crazy enough to take you up on it."

Carl grinned wickedly. "You wanna piece of that action, boss?"

"I'm not crazy!" he replied with a laugh. "Just fit it in sometime this week. Since there's no doubt that Charming Pawse will pass, count it as the regular monthly inspection."

"Gotcha," Roderick replied, jotting a notation in his already full schedule. He frowned at the notes, then shrugged his shoulders and returned to completing the report on the recent inspection of Charming's other coffeehouse, Latte Da.

Frosty shut off the engine and got out of the car, retrieving the bag from the diner and striding to the front door. He paused a moment to listen for any signs of life, then rang the doorbell.

Cat opened the door and held it open for him. "C'mon in, Frost. Move fast, before Ebony gets any ideas about pullin' an escape."

Frosty slipped inside just as the big black cat charged at the open door. His tail lashed angrily at being denied the outdoors yet again. His emerald eyes glared intently at the visitor, blaming his continued incarceration on Frosty.

"Sorry, big fella. I like your mom too much to get on her bad side by bein' responsible for lettin' you out."

Ebony flipped his tail in disdain and walked away from Frosty, tiling his head so that his nose pointed at the ceiling.

"I think I'm being snubbed!" Frosty laughed.

"You're being snubbed," Cat assured him, taking the carry out bag from him.

"He'll get over it when he wants somethin' to eat," Alex observed, walking into the living room and greeting Frosty with the 'bro hug double back tap'.

Cat sniffed the interior of the bag as she took it to the kitchen. "Smells good. Nothin' like comfort food."

Alex and Frosty followed her into the kitchen. "Did you get that from the diner on Main Street?" Alex asked.

Frosty nodded. "The one across from that cigar store. It's boarded up, by the way."

"Not like Zobelle and his group will be keepin' it open," Cat retorted dryly.

"Good riddance, though I'll miss the cigars," Alex mourned.

"You'll adjust and adapt, love," she grinned, setting out plates and a pair of beers at the kitchen table.

"How's she doin'?" Frosty asked as they sat down at the table.

"I'm fine!" she growled.

"You heard the lady," Alex grinned. "Feisty as ever!"

Cat flipped the bird at him as she settled into her own chair.

"I see she knows digital communications," Frosty observed with a grin.

Cat shot the 'feather' at him – holding up the little finger of one hand.

"So I don't deserve the very best?" Frosty mourned.

"Just one man gets my best, darlin'," she growled, giving both grinning men 'the look'.

"By the way, anyone want ketchup with their meat loaf?"

Alex groaned at her reference to 'Rocky Horror Picture Show.' "I'll pass."

"How'd you like the movie, Alex?" Frosty grinned wickedly. "I read on the website about RHPS becomin' part of the regular weekly entertainment at the coffeehouse."

"It had it's moments," Alex admitted reluctantly. "The kids really enjoyed it."

"Yeah, and not just the younger kids!" Cat snickered, ignoring the glare Alex shot her way.

He noted with satisfaction that Cat actually had a healthy appetite, eating more than a spoonful or two of each item.

'She's still gonna have a few meals outta that,' he observed, taking a pull from his beer.

"Frosty, there's some new information I want to share with y'all about Alex's trip," Cat stated as she pushed her plate away.

"What's that, hon?" He took a steadying pull from his beer and glanced across the table at Alex, who lounged lazily in his chair.

"Relax, darlin'. Nothin's wrong. I just wanted to share somethin' with y'all in case the Feds come around askin' questions," she assured him.

"They're not buggin' the place, I've checked," Alex announced. "But they do have the house under surveillance."

"How do you know?" Frosty asked.

"Did ya see that van with the coated windows parked across the street when you pulled up?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"That's ATF," Alex announced.

"What, what, what?" Cat snarled in her best Sheila Bronslovsky imitation.

"Been there all mornin', baby. I ran a check for bugs. We're clean."

"Where the fuck's my baseball bat?" she growled, leaping from her chair.

Alex reached out a hand and snagged her good one, forcing her back into her chair. "Sit. Relax."

"If you utter the word 'stay', I'll smack y'all upside the head with my cast!" she warned, glaring at him.

"Let 'em sit out there and wonder why they're getting an earful of static," Alex replied with a grin. "If ya chase 'em off, they'll just be more of a pain in your ass. I spotted 'em this mornin' while you were at the coffeehouse."

"They've been there that long?" she shrieked, making both men wince at the high pitch her voice achieved.

'Man! Never knew she could sound like a girl!' Alex thought.

"Our tax dollars at work," Frosty observed wryly, winking at the couple.

Cat grimaced, but relaxed in her chair. "I'm sure as Hell not gonna serve any coffee to 'em!"

"That's my girl!" Alex nodded approvingly.

"So, anyway, kitten. You were saying?" Frosty prompted.

Cat withdrew a folded piece of paper from her back pocket and passed it to Frosty. He opened it and gazed at the print out.

"What's this supposed to be?"

"Cat's plan to throw the Feds off my tail," Alex replied.

"I don't get it," Frosty looked quizzically from Cat to Alex, then back at the paper.

Alex glanced at Cat in consternation. 'Shit! If Frosty doesn't get it, what chance is there the Feds will?'

Sensing Alex's concern, Cat leaned forward in her chair. "This is the reason Alex is headin' up North and leavin' me here," she outlined the idea she had shared with Alex earlier.

Frosty nodded when she completed her explanation. "I get it now. It's a pretty good plan. There's only one hole you didn't plug, kitten."

"What's that?"

"Won't the Feds get a little suspicious when no one shows up to use Alex's room?" Frosty pointed out.

"Shit!" Cat fumed.

"You couldn't be expected to think of everything, baby," Alex consoled her. "Hell! I missed it, too!"

"Other than that, I think it'll fly. All you need is someone to use the reservation at the trade show. I'd go, but we're in some serious contract negotiations right now, and I can't take that much time off."

Cat smiled indulgently at him. "Darlin', don't take this the wrong way, but you're hardly the type to pull off bein' a biker, much less a grease monkey!"

"I resemble that remark!" Alex growled. "So do the guys at SAMPOR. Likely one of them would be willin' to use the room."

"SAMPOR?" Cat gazed quizzically at Alex, then realized that he'd feel more comfortable getting help from the SAMPOR charter than Tacoma. 'Keep that Kozik idiot from knowin' what's goin' on as well.'

"Then the story would likely work. If any Feds come knockin' at my door, I'll back you two to the hilt."

"I'm sorry to drag y'all into this, Frosty," Cat stated quietly.

"Don't go there, kitten. You're my friend, I love you, and will do everything I can to ensure you're happy and safe," Frosty retorted, though his eyes met Alex's.

"Thanks, man. Appreciate the support."

"I don't agree with what your club represents, Alex, but I know how Cat feels about you. That's what's most important to me."

"Fair enough," Alex replied.

Frosty removed their dishes from the table and loaded the dishwasher like he had the night before. Cat placed her leftovers in the fridge while Alex removed the beer bottles to the recycle bin in the garage.

"Where'd the cats run off to?" Frosty inquired.

"The coffeehouse to show off to the customers," Cat replied.

Alex returned from the garage, took Cat by the hand and pulled her into the living room. "Called StoneCoyote. The trade show's covered. One of his men fits my description and wants to see all the Barris cars," he announced.

Cat slipped her arms around his waist. "Thanks, love."

"Just doin' my husbandly duties," he replied huskily.

June Krause departed the plane at LAX and walked into the concourse, trying to figure out where to go to get her connecting flight. 'Too bad GPS devices don't tell a body where to go in an airport!'

She shrugged and headed for a Starbucks kiosk to wet her whistle with a non fat, no whip two sweet n low latte. 'Three hours is too long without decent coffee. That stuff they served on the plane tasted like somethin' used to clean out the ion engines at Mos Eisley spaceport!'

She took her drink to the nearby food court and found a seat where she could watch people and get her bearings. Luck was with her as one of those 'You Are Here' signs was within sight, and she was able to locate the gate where she needed to go for her connecting flight.

'Not as far away as I feared!' she sighed with relief, taking an appreciative sip of her latte. 'I've got a little time to relax and call Cat, let her know I've made it this far.'

She dug her cell out of her purse and turned it on, sipping her latte as it powered up. Assured that she had a good signal, she keyed Cat's telephone number and waited.

"Yello!" Cat's voice sounded in her ear.

"Hey, chick! I'm at LAX, sippin' a latte before my connecting flight!"

"It's June!" Cat announced. June assumed she was talking to Alex. "She landed in LA!"

"Don't sound so surprised!" a male voice, not belonging to Alex, replied in the background. "Some planes do manage to land safely, despite the smog!"

"Who dat?" June inquired.

"That's Frosty. You remember him?" Cat explained.

"Vaguely. You worked with him in the 'Haute'," June replied.

"He came up to visit and make sure I wasn't doin' anything stupid," Cat stated.

"Wasted trip, if ya ask me!"

"Don't recall askin' y'all!" Cat retorted dryly.

"Whew! Testy! Alex leave yet?" she asked sympathetically.

"Sorry, kittenface. Not yet. That rapidly approachin'. Guess that's why I'm a little testy."

"Understood. Listen, Just wanted to check in and let y'all know I'm closer. See ya in a few hours, OK? Hang in there."

"I will."

June closed her cell phone and sipped some more of her latte. 'She sounds like she's tryin' not to make leavin' difficult for Alex. I hope he's worth the effort. I know she loves him, but there's so many similarities to Cory!'

She stared across the food court, sipping her latte and watching passersby flit in and out of the shops. She didn't really see them, her attention focused on a time decades earlier, and the deep hurt one man had caused her friend.

"June's in California?" Alex inquired in a light tone of voice. Though she'd not mentioned his departure directly, he could tell by her tone of voice that she really wasn't accepting the situation as she'd been letting on.

'I knew she wasn't really happy about this! She's been puttin' on an act! Damn her!'

As much as he hated causing her pain, he felt some alpha male satisfaction at learning her true feelings. The hurt she was hiding cut through him as deeply as Opie's rings had cut through his flesh.

"Yeah, she's at LAX, waitin' on her connectin' flight. Can't wait to see her again!" Cat smiled at him, the smile not quite reaching her good eye. "Any chance you'll still be around to meet her?"

Alex brushed his knuckles against her cheek, wishing he could smooth the hurt of his leaving as easily. "I dunno, baby. The later I leave, the better where our friends outside are concerned."

"What's the matter, pal, don't you trust me with your wife?" Frosty joked, taking a pull from his latest beer.

Alex grinned wolfishly. "If I didn't, you wouldn't be here at all!"

"Oh – kay. Think I'll shut up and drink my beer!" Frosty mused, winking at the outlaw.

"Just kiddin' ya, man. If I leave too early, Stahl's likely to pester Cat with unnecessary questions."

"Can't argue with that," Frosty replied.

"So my best friend and sister of my heart gets to meet my two favorite fellas. She's in for a treat!"

"Think so?" Alex asked in a challenging, though teasing manner.

"I know so," she replied with a grin. Turning to Frosty, she added, "You may not remember, but you met June once while we were in Terre Haute."

"Actually, I do remember her. She has a very contagious smile, like a pixie ready to get into mischief. The two of you together has the potential to be dangerous!"

"How so?" Alex growled. 'What is my girl gettin' into? Maybe havin' her best friend stay with her isn't such a good idea?'

"Relax, love," Cat replied reassuringly. "While June and I might've been a little wild way back when - "

"A little!" Frosty hooted.

She shot a 'you're not helping!' glare at Frosty, who smirked behind his beer bottle.

"As I was sayin', we've gotten a little tame as we've gotten older, so we won't go cruisin' for 18 year old male virgins!" Cat grinned.

"You'd better not!" Alex growled, hiding his relief behind a warning scowl. "Besides, you prolly won't find any male virgins in these parts, 18 years old or otherwise!"

"I don't doubt that!" Cat retorted.

Alex noticed that the lighthearted banter seemed to take the edge off her voice. 'She looks a little more relaxed. As long as she doesn't hafta think about my leavin', she'll be OK.'

He pulled another couple of beers from the refrigerator, handed one to Frosty, and sat on the couch next to Cat. "Wanna ask you something, Frost. You mentioned last night about her takin' responsibility for somethin' that wasn't her fault. What's that all about?"

"Frosty! Don't you say a word!" Cat snapped in mock terror. "I still haven't forgotten that episode!"

Alex grabbed her hand and forced her to sit next to him on the sofa. "Relax, baby. I wanna hear about it, and that's all there is to it!"

Frosty related the story of the bungled school closing that came on her very first day as news director at the station. "Our rivals down the street called in, said they were the local school superintendent, and that the school was closed due to the weather. The previous news director gave our code words to that station. We thought it was a valid announcement, and went on air with it."

"What assholes!" Alex growled, his thumb caressing the back of Cat's hand.

"Yeah, it was a real zoo," Cat added. "The real school superintendent called in, and we went live with his retraction. A lot of parents then called in very upset with me, demanding my head on a pike."

"Don't exaggerate, Cat. They didn't demand your head on a pike outside the station, but they were pretty pissed," Frosty continued. "This was before the days of automatic call back and caller ID, so we had no reason to think the call was a fake until it was too late."

"How'd ya find it out about the rivals bein' behind it?" Alex asked.

"The assholes were laughin' about it on air while it was goin' down," Cat replied. "Our town newspaper had this media reporter that overheard 'em and did some diggin'. He found out how they got hold of the code words, and a few heads rolled as a result."

"Cat felt responsible for the whole mess, and offered to resign. She got that promotion fair and square when the previous News Director left for the rival station. It wasn't her fault that asshole set her up."

Alex's eyes glinted with anger. "What the fuck was that asshole's problem? He left, didn't he?"

"She left and wanted to get in one last parting shot at all of us."

Alex nodded, quickly catching on to the situation that had existed at the time. "How long did she mope about it?"

"A few days. Once the story came out in the paper, she snapped out of it."

"Sounds familiar," Alex growled, glaring at her. "She's still havin' guilt about the Alert."

"What makes you think that?" Cat stared at him in surprise. She thought she'd done a good job of keeping her feelings under wraps.

"Baby, I know you," Alex replied soberly. Then he grinned and added, "Plus you talk in your sleep when you're havin' bad dreams."

"Too - much – information!" Frosty pleaded, holding up his hand in the classic 'stop' gesture, though his eyes were twinkling in merriment.

"Thing is, no one in the club blames Cat for the damn thing bein' shut down. No one," he empathized, catching her disbelieving sideways glance.

"If you say so," she replied.

"I say so."

"If you can get her to listen to you, you're a better man than me!" Frosty quipped.

"No doubt about that!" Alex grinned, tilting his beer in mock salute.

"Play nice, boys!" Cat admonished them.

"I am, baby. I am!"

"Uh, huh. Doesn't sound that way to me!" she drawled.

"Hey, kitten, don't forget, I've got plenty of other stories to tell Alex about your radio days, like when the Pope John Paul the First died!"

"You – wouldn't – dare!" Cat hissed.

Frosty grinned evilly. "I dare. Wanna hear about it, Alex?"

"Yeah! What'd she do?"

"You weren't there!" Cat cried defiantly. "You don't know anything about it!"

"Wanna bet?" Frosty drawled, his eyes glinting mischievously. "You should've been careful about where you share reminiscences."

Cat glowered accusingly at her friend. "You eavesdropped!"

"I happened to be passin' by and over heard you and June talkin' one night when she was in town, and you were showin' her the station. Not my fault that juicy little item made it's way to my ears!"

"So spill!" Alex growled, keeping a tight hold on Cat's hand so she couldn't throw anything at Frosty to shut him up.

"It was her first night on air at the campus radio station in Vincennes. One of the seniors was with her, but was lettin' her run the board and the show. The AP wire bells rang, indicating an important bulletin, so the senior brought it upstairs and told her she needed to read it right away. She had nothin' ready to play, and the record was endin'."

"What'd she do?" Alex prompted when Frosty paused to take a swig of beer.

"Those were the days when a lot of the music was on tape, called carts. With the record endin', I flipped open the microphone, cold read the copy while grabbin' a music cart and slippin' it into the machine. I hit play, and Billy Joel's 'Only the Good Die Young' followed the announcement," Cat explained ruefully.

Alex stared at her blankly. "Guess I'm not up on Billy Joel music."

"Hang on," Frosty pulled his Ipod out of his pocket and scrolled through his play list. In a matter of moment, the tune's opening lines about 'Catholic girls start much too late' blared from the device.

"I've never been able to stand that song!" Cat snarled, her face turning bright red as she hid behind Alex's arm.

"Sounds appropriate to me," Alex grinned, his hand stroking her hair. "Nothing to be ashamed of!"

"Well, the director of broadcasting didn't think so. He really chewed me out the next mornin'!"

"Maybe if you hadn't followed it up with Dylan's 'No Time to Think'!" Frosty retorted, shutting off his Ipod.

"Oh no she didn't!" Though Alex didn't know the song, the title spoke volumes. The first selection was a fluke, the second choice more deliberate.

"Figured if I was gonna get in trouble, might as well make it worth while!" Cat replied wryly.

Alex chuckled. "I've never seen you flustered like this! I kinda like it!"

"Don't hold your breath waitin' for a repeat!" she grumbled.

"She really never told y'all that one?" Frosty asked incredulously.

"Like I keep tellin' him, if he knew all there was to know, he'd get bored with me!"

"No way, baby! I'll never get bored with you!"

"I'm gonna make damn sure of it, by droppin' little bombshells of intel when y'all least expect it!" She stood and grinned at the two of them. "I've gotta go call the Lodi dealership. Think I can trust y'all to behave while I'm gone?"

The pair exchanged innocent 'who, us?' looks.

Cat sighed. "I was afraid of that. Try not to have too much fun at my expense, OK?" She turned before they could respond and headed to the office where she wouldn't overhear any more of Frosty's stories about her broadcast career.

Frosty and Alex grinned at each other as Cat departed to the sanctity of the computer room.

"There's plenty of stories like that to tell, Alex, if you're interested."

"I'm more interested in that fuckin' lone wolf that abused her. What can ya tell me about Cory Brown ?"

Frosty frowned intently. "That's a real touchy subject with her."

"You think I don't know that?" Alex growled. "I wouldn't ask except that I think he still has some kinda hold on her."

Frosty narrowed his eyes over his beer bottle. "What do ya mean?"

Alex sighed in frustration. "She kept some Goddamn cheap ring he gave her. I'm no fuckin' expert, but seems like most women toss shit like that out after a guy hurts 'em."

"Most of 'em do. But y'all know Cat's not like most people,"

"No shit!"

Frosty took a reassuring pull from his beer, then wiped his hand over his face. "Man! I can't believe she kept it! I remember how she treated it like it was made of the most precious metal on Earth."

"Hah!" Alex snorted. "Cheap piece of iron covered in silver paint is more like it. Bet it turned her finger green the first time she wore it!"

"It did," Frosty grinned. "But she didn't care. She was proud to be a female rider. And for awhile, she was happy to have a man in her life who'd given her something that told her he cared."

"We both know that was a lie."

Frosty nodded. "After she learned how he'd betrayed her, she was like a tornado, removing anything and everything he'd given her – or that would serve as reminder of him – from her life. Wonder why she kept the ring?"

"She said not all the memories she had of him were bad," Alex replied. "I don't think Bill knew she had it."

"How'd you find out about it?"

Alex outlined Chuckie's inquiries about the ring, and how Cat had handled it. "She had a couple of rings Bill had given her, and said she wanted to wear the bike ring to represent us."

"Owtch!" Frosty winced. "That wasn't a very smooth move on her part!"

"I took the fucking thing away and plan to toss it somewhere along the side of the road."

"Then what's with the -" Frosty's eyes widened as he realized the significance behind the bike ring Cat wore on her left hand. "That's one of yours, is it?"

"Gave her my first biker ring. Kinda fitting, if I do say so myself. Just wish I could get him outta her head as easy I'm gettin' rid of that ring," he grumbled.

"I'd say you've managed it, friend," Frosty assured him. "If she said she kept it to remind her there was somethin' good in the man, that's all there is to it. She always seems able to see something redeemable about the worst type of person."

"That's why I wanna kill him!" Alex snarled.

"Wow! Remind me to stay on your good side!" Frosty sighed, taking a reassuring pull from his beer.

"You will, if you fill me in," Alex replied grandly. "Seriously, Frosty. I really need to know everything you can tell me."

Alex stretched his legs out in front of him, supporting the back of his head with one hand. The other hand held his beer. Only the choke hold on the bottleneck betrayed the depth of his feelings.

As Frosty warred with himself whether to share what he knew, Alex added, "Look, man. I know you care about Cat, and you don't wanna betray her trust by telling me everything you know. But you're the best - maybe the only - shot I've got at learnin' the whole story."

Frosty's eyes narrowed in surprise. "What do y'all mean, the whole story? You act like she's already told you everything!"

"I read between the lines. She tried to tell me once but never finished the story."

"Why? What happened?"

"I over reacted. She 's never said another word about it as a result," Alex replied apologetically. "I'm kinda overprotective about her -"

"No kiddin'!" Frosty quipped.

Alex scowled darkly at the interruption. The scowl was one he'd used a number of times in the past to 'persuade' people to see things his way.

'That's one powerful glare! If that's supposed to intimidate me, it's workin'! Cat's not easily scared by glares; he must've done something worse than that to make her clam up!' Frosty took another pull at his beer. 'I'm not even gonna ask what it was!'

Alex could read Frosty's face and knew what he was thinking, despite his attempt to appear unaffected. "We were out on one of our jaunts, stopped at a lake we like, and she thought the setting was right," he explained gruffly.

Frosty gazed quizzically at him.

"When she told me how he'd cut her throat, I turned a tree limb into toothpicks. Same way I'd like to break him in half," Alex shrugged. "It makes me nuts when I hear about her injuries. I don't like seein' her hurt – physically or emotionally."

"It's that important to you."

Alex looked at him in silent entreaty.

"There was somethin' about Cory Brown that attracted Cat from the start. They met while she was still in college, workin' at the University radio station. She fell hard for the guy; drawn to him like a moth to light. He drifted in and out of her life like a feather caught in a hurricane. Did as much damage as one."

Frosty stared out the window, not able to look at Alex as he spoke. He didn't see the van across the street, nor the vehicles in the drive. His gaze was actually seeing decades into the past, a past that Cat hadn't been able to share with Alex because it would hurt both of them too much.

Cat closed the door to the office. 'I may regret this, but if the two of 'em wanna talk, best they not worry about me eavesdroppin'.'

She sat down at the computer desk, pulled up the internet auto site she'd perused the afternoon before, and dialed the number to the Lodi Chrysler sales lot.

"Lodi Chrysler Jeep Dodge. How may I direct your call?" the receptionist chirped.

"Ben Stokes, please. Tell him Cat Marshall is returning his call from yesterday."

"Would you hold please?"

"Sure," Cat pulled up the pictures and listing of her 'Black Beauty' as she waited.

"Ben Stokes. Thanks for calling back, Ms. Marshall. I was afraid you wouldn't get my message."

Cat grinned. "My boyfriend's bark is much worse than his bite. Hope he didn't bark too much at y'all!"

"I've heard worse," Stokes assured her. "Your email indicated you're interested in the black 2010 Turbo GT Cruiser."

"Yes. Any chance I could come out for a test drive tomorrow?"

"Certainly!" Stokes couldn't believe his luck. He'd just hired on to the lot that week, and was assigned all the internet inquiries. He'd learned quickly that most internet inquiries didn't lead to a call back.

"Between now and then, I'm sure you need to run some numbers, though I'm likely to be payin' cash for the bulk of the price," Cat replied.

"Well, the more we can do ahead of time, the better," Stokes replied. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions for the paperwork?"

"Nah. That's part of the reason why I called."

Stokes quickly asked the few questions he needed for the financial information, and then she made an appointment for the test drive.

'Figure I can get Chuckie or June to drive over with me. A test drive shouldn't be a problem. Lodi's not as far as Oakland.'

"We're all set, Ms. Marshall. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Likewise," Cat hung up the phone, then printed out the pictures of her new 'toy'. When the printer spit the last page from it's bowels, she picked up the papers and returned to the living room.

"That black hearted son of a bitch!" Alex swore softly, his eyes dark with anger and hurt. "I've always known he didn't care about her. He sure as Hell didn't deserve her devotion to him. I swear I'll kill him!"

"It was a hard lesson for her to learn, that's for sure," Frosty replied.

"She didn't learn it very well, considerin' she hooked up with that drunken dope fiend when she moved to Indianapolis!" Alex grated, the choke hold on his beer bottle tightened, making his knuckles turn white.

"Easy, fella!" Frosty replied soothingly. "She was still vulnerable after Brown; figured any guy willin' to look at her was worth hangin' on to. She wised up, though. Bill McLaughlin was everything they weren't. He was the balm her soul needed after those other two dirt bags."

"Is that the best insult you can come up with?" Alex growled.

"I've learned to use descriptive phrases that don't offend the listener," Frosty grinned. "It takes practice. I'll be honest with y'all, Alex. When I learned your true identity that night at the hospital -"

"You feared I was like those douche bags," Alex interjected.

"Until I saw how it is with you and her. You stayed with her that night. When Cat had that cast on her leg, Cory refused to help her get around. That's why she had to ride her bike. He blamed her for gettin' hurt when he caused it in the first place!"

Frosty glanced at Alex from the side of one eye. He winced at the sight of the other's man hand clutch the bottle's neck so hard that his knuckles were white. Frosty was surprised it didn't shatter. "You weren't kiddin' about not likin' it when she's hurt."

"I'd take a bullet for her." Alex murmured softly. He made a mental note to have Juice try to find the whereabouts of the lone wolf. 'That guy's gonna pay for what he did to her when I find him!'

"Are all y'all done talkin' about me behind my back?" she called cheerily from the computer room.

"It's safe, baby! C'mon out!"

"Got somethin' to share with y'all. My soon to be new car."

She passed the paper she carried to Alex and stood watching his face as he scanned the pictures.

"You found your 'Black Beauty'," he remarked, his eyes meeting her good one.

"Still namin' your cars, eh?" Frosty laughed.

"Just the special ones," she replied. "This one is really special. Look at the pics of the inside."

A smile lit Alex's face when he saw the jaguar head on the gearshift lever, then the floor mats. "Why am I not surprised that you'd choose that?"

"Let me see," Frosty stated, moving over to stand next to Cat and Alex. He grinned when he saw the cat floor mats and the jaguar shifter. "Very fitting, Cat."

"I thought so," she purred. "Gonna go out tomorrow and test drive him."

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Cat cut him off. "Relax, stud muffin. I'll take June with me. Lodi's not as far as Oakland, and if I get the car tomorrow, driving it back shouldn't be a problem."

"Cat," Alex replied warningly. "I can't do what I gotta do and worry about you at the same time!"

"Then don't worry, love!" she retorted. "Do y'all really think June's gonna let me get away with anything?"

"Yes! Look at what you put me through yesterday with gettin' the rental!" Alex growled.

The phone rang, cutting off her retort. Alex grabbed the phone and barked, "Yeah?"

"Is that anyway to answer the phone, Alex?" June laughed in his ear. "I'd hate to hear what you say to telemarketers!"

"It is when your best friend is annoyin' me!" he snapped, though his eyes lit up with delight at the friendly demeanor in June's voice.

"She's misbehavin' again, eh? You probably deserve it!"

"Yeowtch! No wonder Cat calls you her sister of the heart. You're both evil minded things! What's up, doll?" He pressed the speaker phone button on the base so Cat could hear.

"Hey, kittenface! You still in LA?"

"Nope. I'm about half way to Charming via rental car. Some kind of engine trouble with the plane, so I decided to drive."

"You got 'Gerry' tellin' ya where to go?" Cat inquired.

A Scottish accented voice drifted over the line. "Tern right in two hunnerd yards!"

"That answers my question! But sunny California has a rule against usin' cell phones behind the wheel, darlin'!"

"Tern right in two hunnerd yards!"

"Shut up!" June replied. "Not you, Cat. The GPS is hollerin' at me cause I'm stopped at the side of the road. You remember how 'Gerry' can be."

"Yeah, I remember," Cat grinned. "'Gerry' is the name we gave her GPS, which can be programmed with different voices. We thought the Scottish one would sound like Gerard Butler; turned out he was more like Sean Connery," she explained to the men.

"It's gonna be awhile before I get in, probably close to dark."

'Damn! Alex can't hang around that long! He's gonna wanna be out of the danger zone while it's still daylight.' Cat glanced at the clock on the wall. It had different pictures of cats on the face and would meow at the top of the hour. 'Or would if the cats didn't object to it and Alex wouldn't hide the damn batteries!'

"Anyway, just thought I'd call and let y'all know I'm runnin' late."

"Be careful, June!" Frosty called out.

"Is that Frosty?" June asked with delight. "It's been a coon's age!"

Alex looked from Frosty to Cat. 'Coon's age? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?'

"I'll explain it to y'all later," Cat whispered in his ear.

"In the flesh, honey! I'm lookin' forward to seein' ya again! I'll be here with Cat when y'all get in."

"OK, then! I'll see all y'all later. Alex, keep the rubber on the road! Toodles!"

Alex turned off the speaker phone and set the handset back on the charger. "So what the Hell is that shit about 'it's been a coon's age' supposed to mean?"

"It's just our way of sayin' it's been a long time."

"Then why the Hell don't ya just say so?"

"We did," Frosty and Cat replied in unison.

Alex threw his hands up in disgust.

"Getting back to the topic of conversation before June called, I'll make a deal with y'all hotstuff. June and I will take one of the 'kids' to the dealership with us when I go for the test drive, and I'll have them deliver the PT."

His blue eyes glared icily at her. "Why the fuck didn't you say so in the first place?"

"I was gettin' around to it!"

"Ya know, I don't understand why you insist on teasin' me!" he growled.

"Because you're so full of that alpha male crap that drive me bonkers!" She grinned. "The more you beat your chest the more I wanna rebel and take ya down a couple of notches!"

"Shit!" He rolled his eyes, stood up and collected the beer bottles, indicating with a slight movement of his head for Frosty to follow him.

"Gonna go smoke out back for a minute, baby. Thought Frosty might join me for a little man talk."

"Humpf! Figured all y'all would've had time for that while I was in the office," she remarked.

"We did," Alex replied dryly. "Much as you might occupy my thoughts a lot, you're not the only thing on my mind."

"Smart ass!" she tossed a pillow from the sofa at him. He caught it with the ease of long practice and threw back into a corner of the couch where it belonged. Grinning from ear to ear, Alex motioned for Frosty to proceed him to the back door.

Frosty drew the back door closed behind him and followed Alex to the yard chairs. 'Somehow I knew she'd have the good old fashioned metal yard chairs we grew up with!' he grinned, catching sight of the cheery yellow chairs with the metal table between them.

"Cop a squat, Frost," Alex motioned to the other chair as he settled in and lit a cigarette.

"You're gonna be leavin' soon."

"Yeah," Alex sighed, blowing smoke through his nose. He stared out at the yard, recalling the day after he'd had the 'shrooms and Cat had provided him with the life preserver he needed.

'No matter how fucked up things get, she's there for me; this is how I repay her! I'm no better than that douchebag, Brown!'

Frosty settled in the chair next to the table, staring out at the yard. His eyes took in the cat run, the neatly trimmed lawn, and the different colored rosebushes. The wind chimes danced in the slight breeze.

"You don't want to leave her," he observed.

"Yeah. But I gotta, and no matter what kind of spin she's putting on it, I know she's not happy about it."

"I knew that since last night."

Alex glanced out of the side of his eye at the man who'd become as close to him as his brothers. "How'd ya know?"

"Haven't you seen how unusually bright her eye is? That's how."

Alex scowled. "Yeah, I noticed it was kinda bright. Thought she was just hidin' the pain from me."

"There's all kind of pain, friend. She's hurtin' physically, but she's also hurtin' emotionally. She's gonna miss y'all, but doesn't wanna make this any harder for you by givin' into it."

His scowl deepened.

Misinterpreting the reason for that scowl, Frosty hastened to assure him. "Don't be mad at her, friend. That's just how she is."

"I know!" Alex growled, inhaling deeply on his cigarette. "Damn it! She's always doin' shit for me! Why the fuck don't I give back?"

"You do, man, in your own way. Do you really think Cat would've let you be a part of her life if she didn't think you gave a shit about her? She learned that the hard way."

"Don't remind me."

"Look, you're not like those assholes, and you're not Bill McLaughlin. She chose you, my man. You do what you can and she accepts it. She does what she can and you accept it. It all comes full circle."

Alex inhaled more smoke, held it, then let it out with a sigh. "Thanks."

They remained silent for awhile, both looking out across the lawn without really seeing it; each lost in his own thoughts.

"I'm gonna make her take one of her anti-anxiety pills before I leave," Alex stated resolutely. "It'll make her drowsy. Prolly sleep will be the best thing for her. Just wanted ya to know."

Frosty nodded and stretched his legs out in front of him. He clasped his hands behind his head and looked up into the clear blue sky.

"Go on inside, spend a little time with her. Say goodbye. I'll stay out here for awhile."

Alex stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. He opened his mouth to speak, then turned and strode into the house.

Cat glanced around the library – cum - guest room, satisfied that she'd made it as ready for June as she could get it.

The air mattress had fresh sheets on it, along with the quilt as a bedspread. She'd moved her red Phantom of the Opera pillows from the bedroom onto the guest bed, adding a splotch of color. "June will get a kick out of it."

"Wish you'd moved those in here long ago! I hate havin' another man in the bedroom with us!" Alex growled, sliding his arms around her and nuzzling her neck.

"Geeze! I already moved the posters out of the bedroom! Didn't figure you'd mind the pillows!"

She squirmed in his embrace; his facial hair tickled her skin.

Alex grinned against the back of her neck. "I told ya before, baby, I don't share well with others. That includes pictures of men on pillows!"

She turned in his embrace so that she was facing him, her hands entwined with his. "It's about that time, isn't it, love?"

"Yeah," he growled, finding it hard to speak past the lump that had suddenly settled in his throat.

"I'll be all right, love. June'll be here soon, Tara's gonna be ridin' herd on me, and I'm sure that you've told the 'kids' to keep an eye on me," she grinned wickedly at him before resting her cheek against his chest.

He felt her body tremor slightly against him. "What makes you think I would've done somethin' like that?" he growled, disengaging one hand from hers to stroke her hair. He buried his nose in it, breathing in her clean scent of berries and soap. It intoxicated more than the smoothest whiskey.

"Because I know how you are, love. When it comes to my welfare, you're like a mother tiger watchin' fiercely over her cub."

"I kinda like that, except for the 'mother' part. There's nothin' feminine about me!" he complained.

"Thank God!" she replied with a small laugh. "That's not my bent!"

"I'm glad to know it!" he retorted.

They stood holding each other just for the pleasure and reassurance the contact gave them. Wordlessly they moved from the library into the bedroom.

Alex left her standing next to the bed while he prowled into the bathroom, returning with a glass of water that he handed her.

"I'm not thirsty," she protested, moving to place the glass on the bedside table.

Alex put out a hand to stop her. Taking her other hand in his, he placed a small pill in her palm. "Take this. I promised the doc you'd take your medicine."

"Honestly, Alex! I don't -"

"Take it!" he growled, standing in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't think I won't stick it in your mouth and make you swallow it!"

"I'll bite you!" she snapped, though she took the sting out of the words with an inviting smile.

Alex bent and laid his cheek on hers. "Don't tempt me, woman!" He drew her earlobe between his teeth and sucked on it.

Just as she warmed up to his attention, Alex straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest again, and glared down at her. "Nothin' more until you take your medicine!"

She stuck her tongue out at him, then popped the pill on it and sipped some water. He watched the glass for any tell tale signs that she'd spat out the pill. "Open your mouth," he growled.

Her unbandaged eyebrow rose to touch her fringe as she glared at him. "You've been talkin' to Tara!" she hissed accusingly, opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue to show that she hadn't tried to hide the pill. Then she held out both hands to show she hadn't palmed it.

Alex grabbed her hands and hauled her against him, holding her tight. He laughed as she squirmed indignantly while his hands slid over her body and clasped her rear end, bringing her closer to him as he nuzzled her neck.

"You're practically doin' what's on your mind now!" she squeaked.

"Yeah, I noticed," he laughed softly, moving his lips along her chin until he claimed her mouth with his.

Cat returned his kiss with equal fervor and desire, wishing for a moment they didn't have a guest and weren't on time constraints.

"Thanks, baby," Alex whispered against her mouth.

"For what?"

"Everything you do for me. Consider this a deposit for when I get back."

She looked up at him, her green eye gleaming brightly. "I plan to collect interest, just so you know."

"I'm countin' on it," he murmured before he kissed her again. He abruptly broke the kiss, released her and shrugged into his cut. He placed his sunglasses over his eyes before bending down to grab his duffel. Without a word or a backward glance, he stalked from the bedroom, down the hall, and out the front door to his bike.

'Don't watch me leave, baby!' He glanced at the living room window as he strapped the bag to his Dyna. He was relieved and disappointed that she wasn't framed in the window.

Cat walked slowly down the hallway. She wasn't upset with the abrupt way Alex had left her. 'He's not good at good byes. Doesn't keep me from wantin' to watch him leave; just as long as he doesn't see me watchin'.'

She leaned against the entrance to the living room, where she could see him in the driveway through the window. The Dyna was parked in such a way that he'd not be able to see her should he look in her direction.

Frosty entered through the back door in time to see the front door close behind Alex. He walked into the living room to find Cat leaning against the entry, intently watching the driveway.

"You can come on into the room, you know," Frosty joked. "I don't bite."

"This is fine," she replied softly, her gaze never leaving the tall figure bent over the Dyna. She gasped when he looked up at the living room window for a moment.

She relaxed when he straddled the bike and adjusted his helmet. She felt a twinge of disappointment that he hadn't acknowledged her presence. Yet, she felt that inescapable thrill that moved up her spine whenever their eyes met.

Alex felt like he was being watched, and looked over at the living room window again as he finished securing the duffel. His sunglasses hid his eyes as they searched for the green one that meant so much to him.

'Must've been my imagination. It's not Cat watchin' me, it's the damn Feds!' He shrugged, straddled the Dyna, and secured his helmet, bending to turn the key in the ignition.

He pressed the Dyna's starter and revved the engine a few times. Each roar was louder than the one before it, as if the Dyna shared his opinion about leaving.

He shook his head and backed the Dyna down the drive, casting a sneering glance at the van parked across from his house. 'Fucktards!'

Fighting the urge to look back at the house, he put the Dyna in gear and roared off down the street.

As Alex backed the Dyna down the drive, Cat stepped closer to the window. Tears slid down her cheeks from both eyes.

Frosty walked up behind her. "He's gonna be OK, Cat."

"I know," she replied quietly, her fists clenched at her sides as she watched the Dyna back from the drive. It wasn't until the Harley roared down the street that a muffled sob escaped her, and she turned away from the window, straight into her friend's comforting arms.

"Keep the shiny side up, love," she whispered forlornly, resting her head against Frosty's shoulder.

Frosty held her, giving as much comfort as he could. He could feel her body shaking with the sobs she kept locked inside. Even though Frosty was the only one who could witness her pain, she refused to give it free reign.

Frosty guided her to the sofa and sat next to her, keeping an avuncular arm around her shoulders. Her head rested against his chest. "I'll get your shirt wet, darlin'," she protested.

"It'll dry," Frosty assured her softly. "Relax."

"I can't. Gotta figure out somethin' to fix for June."

Frosty tightened his grip, forcing her to remain beside him. "I'm no Iron Chef America, but I can reheat Bambi chili just as well as you can."

Cat allowed herself to take comfort in his companionship. Her emotions and weariness enabled the medicine to act quickly and she soon grew drowsy. Despite her best efforts, her eye closed and her breathing deepened as she fell asleep.

Frosty gently laid her head against the sofa cushions and rose from the couch. He bent and raised her legs onto the sofa so that she was comfortable.

Then he settled in one of the recliners to keep watch over her, glancing from time to time at the annoying beige van parked across the street.

Tig pulled into the Teller – Morrow lot, backed the Dyna into it's customary spot and shut off the engine. He'd originally intended to transfer his duffel from the Dyna to his backup Harley and get on out of town; he needed to brief Clay on the cover story and the surveillance of his home.

That surveillance had also required him to wear his cut from the house, instead of leaving it safe at home. 'Leaving with a duffel strapped to the bike raised their interest enough. Not wearin' my cut would've made things worse.'

Tig strode into the clubhouse, searching for Clay. The club president was sitting in at his place in the chapel, smoking a cigar and staring off into space.

'Doesn't look like he had an easy night,' Tig mused as he stepped into the chapel.

"Hey, Tig. Ready to head out I take it." Clay waved to the chair next to him. He frowned to see that Tig was wearing his cut. "Thought you were leavin' that at your place."

Tig settled in his chair, lit a cigarette, and blew a stream of smoke through his nostrils. "Slight change of plans. Feds are parked out in front of the house."

Clay slapped his palm against the table. "Shit! When did they show up?"

"This morning while Cat was playin' taxi for Chuckie. The house is clean. Cat has one of the scanners."

Clay nodded approvingly, though displeased by the news of the surveillance. "They're probably suspicious about that duffel. Why didn't you have Cat bring it over?" Clay frowned at his SAA. 'Are you headin' into another slump?'

"I know what you're thinkin' brother. Nothin' for ya to worry about. While I was sleepin' last night, Cat figured out a good cover story to explain my absence," Tig replied.

"You keepin' it to yourself or plannin' on sharin' the intel?" he growled, inhaling on his cigar.

Tig nodded, quickly briefing Clay on the trade show in Tacoma and the story to feed Stahl. "She purchased a reservation for a hotel and the event. One of SAMPOR's men is gonna attend in my place."

"Good, at least you don't have to wear one of those riding masks! I know ya hate 'em anyway!" Clay's stern countenance gave way to open admiration for the plan. 'She's good. It'll work. The more she does for Tig – and us – the more certain I am that there's more to her history than either of them wanna admit!'

Clay grinned appreciatively. "She did a good job coverin' your ass. I'll share this with the rest of the guys, cause Stahl will come sniffin' around."

"No shit!"

Clay took a pull from the beer, gazing intently at Tig. "You don't like the idea of your old lady goin' against the Feds."

Tig pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not real keen about it," he admitted. "Comin' up with this cover story was a big help, though."

Clay waited a moment before replying, "There's an unspoken 'but' hangin' there."

Tig shrugged. "I know this wasn't easy for her, brother."

"You talkin' about you leavin' her?"

Tig shook his head. "Nah. She's not real happy about it, but she knows it's necessary and accepts it."

"Then what's buggin' ya?"

"I'm worried about the effect all this shit is havin' on her. For her to put herself out on a limb like this says a Hell of a lot."

"Such as?"

"That she's takin' this personally, and has made up her mind that Stahl is her enemy as well as ours."

"Can you blame her?" Clay growled. "Cat respects authority when it's used correctly. That's what makes your wife a decent person."

Tig inhaled deeply on his cigarette without comment.

"Stahl's misused her authority too many times; and you know as well as I that innocent people got hurt," Clay continued. "Doesn't surprise me that Cat would rebel against such an abuse of authority. Decent people dislike that kind of shit and fight it any way they can. This is Cat's way."

Clay took another pull at his beer, inhaled deeply on his cigar, and added, "Frankly, I'm damn glad she's on our side."

Tig nodded acceptance of Clay's observations, taking comfort in his friend's objectivity and that he wasn't just seeing things as he wanted to see them. He shrugged out of his cut and handed it to Clay. "I'm countin' on you guys to keep my girl safe."

"As safe as you're keepin' my girl," Clay promised, accepting the cut and enfolding Tig in the 'bro hug double back tap'. "Ride safe, brother."

Tig strode from the clubhouse to his Dyna. He unzipped the duffel and removed the plain black leather jacket he'd worn at Morado. He slipped it on, closed the duffel, and retrieved his helmet from the Dyna, striding to his back up.

The roar of an approaching Harley caught his attention. He looked up to see Juice's bike roar into the lot. 'Good timin'. Might as well put him to work findin' that asshole while I'm gone. Give him somethin' constructive to do.'

As Juice backed his bike into its' parking spot, Tig opened one of the saddlebags of his back up ride to find a duffel already stored there. 'Forgot all about pickin' up anything for Gemma. Guess Clay packed some shit for her.'

He stored his duffel in the other saddlebag, then strode back across the lot to intercept Juice.

"What's up, Tig?" Juice inquired, noting the intense expression on the other man's face.

"Need you to do some research. My eyes only."

"Sure, Tig." Juice wasn't surprised by the SAA's request. He'd run many such background checks for Tig in the past. 'The only one that ever bothered me was the one on Lady Cat. Must've met his expectations; he's been with her ever since.'

Tig briefly explained who he wanted Juice to find and why. "I don't care how long it takes, or what ya gotta to do get the intel."

Juice's eyes clouded at the terse explanation. "That's some rough shit, man! Dunno why it didn't come up."

"Doesn't matter. I've known a bit about it for some time, just got the rest of the intel today," Tig growled.

"I'll handle it, Tig. Count on it."

Tig nodded. "I know intel on Abel takes priority. No rush."

"Ride safe, brother."

Tig returned to his back up Harley, strapped on the helmet, and mounted the bike. He turned the key in the ignition and pressed the starter. The engine turned and caught; he revved the engine, listening in satisfaction as it settled into a throaty purr. He put the Harley in gear and headed for the street and the North.

Frosty jumped at the light touch of a finger on his shoulder. 'Damn! Didn't mean to fall asleep!' He looked up to find a strange face looking down at him.

"Who are you, what are you doin' here and how'd you get in?" Frosty growled, wishing for a moment he could sound as intimidating as Alex. He glanced over at the sofa, where Cat was still sleeping soundly. 'Whoever this is, he obviously let himself in!'

"I could ask the same of you," the other man replied quietly. "But Tig wouldn't have left just anyone with Cat, so you must be a friend of the family, like me. My name's Chuckie Marsten."

Frosty frowned a moment, then recalled that Cat had mentioned Tig hiring an employee named Chuckie. "Frosty Still."

"The radio guy!" Chuckie smiled warmly. "I've heard of you!" He glanced at Cat, then added in a quieter tone, "Is she OK?"

"Yeah," Frosty replied. "Tig made her take some medicine before he left, figured it'd make things easier for her."

"Are you staying here?" Chuckie asked in a casual manner. 'He'd better not be! Not after all that chest beating Tig did yesterday about me staying here while he's gone!'

Frosty grinned. "Not on your life! I have to be back in lalaland tomorrow morning. I'm just here until Cat's friend, June, gets here."

"I accept that," Chuckie grinned. "I work part time at the coffeehouse." His eyes followed Frosty's glance at his hands. "I work in the back, administrative stuff."

"Mind if I ask what you're doin' in their house, and how y'all got in here in the first place?"

Chuckie settled into the recliner opposite Frosty's before answering. "I accept that line of questioning, because you're a friend of Miss Cat's. I was a house guest and have a key. I'm staying at the clubhouse while Tig's away. Miss Cat's supposed to take me back when my shift ends."

The sound of a car door slamming shut outside startled both men. Frosty glanced out the living room window to see a black vintage Olds Cutlass sitting behind the HHR.

"That's Dr. Knowles!" Chuckie announced, scrambling to his feet and going to the door, opening it before Tara could ring the bell. "What's up, Doc?"

Tara grimaced as she passed the threshold. "Hi, Chuckie. I came over to check on Cat. Is that other car her friend's?"

"It is, but not the one who's stayin' with her," Frosty had gotten to his feet to greet the physician. "Frosty Still."

Tara shook hands with the visitor. "I remember seeing you at the hospital the night of Cat's accident," she turned her attention back to Chuckie. "I actually was asking about Cat's other friend, the one who will be working at the hospital temporarily."

"She's on her way from LAX," Frosty supplied. "She called earlier; driving a rental up, some kind of engine trouble with her connecting flight."

Tara glanced at the prone figure stretched out on the sofa. "How long has she been asleep?"

"Maybe an hour or so, I kinda napped myself," Frosty replied sheepishly.

Tara nodded. "I hate to wake her, but it looks like her bandage needs attending to." She indicated the damp bandage over Cat's eye. "If you don't mind waiting a bit, Chuckie, I can give you a ride to the clubhouse."

"I accept that. If Miss Cat's got company coming, she doesn't need to be driving around."

"I'll second that," Frosty added.

Tara squatted next to the sofa near Cat's side, gently checking the cast and her side. 'Looks good, no problems with those at all.' She reached out, laid a hand on Cat's arm, and shook it lightly.

"Cat, wake up. It's Tara."

The older woman stirred and sighed. "Go 'way. I'm sleepin'."

Tara grinned and nudged Cat's arm again. "C'mon, Cat. Rise and shine. I need to check your eye. Can't do it in this light, you know that."

"Not gonna rise, definitely not gonna shine," she grumbled, stretching luxuriously. She wished for a moment that it was her tall, dark – haired husband teasing her awake instead of Tara.

"OK, you don't have to shine, but can you at least rise and make it a little easier on me?"

Cat grudgingly opened her eye and sat up. "OK, since you asked nicely," she grumbled. "Hi Chuckie. Everythin' goin' all right at the coffeehouse?"

"Everything's just fine, Miss Cat. All the orders shipped, deposit made, supplies ordered!" he grinned reassuringly.

She nodded, stood up and stretched again, glancing out the front window. 'Damn fucktards are still there!'

Her eye met Frosty's. "Can you and Chuckie step out to the garage and check on the bike for me? Make sure the connections on the tender are tight?"

Frosty had followed her gaze and knew she wanted him to give Chuckie the heads up where she thought it would be relatively safe. "Want me to start him for you, let him run?"

She nodded. "Raise the garage door so y'all don't pass out from the fumes!"

"I accept that," Chuckie grinned. He'd watched Cat's expression shift when she'd looked out the window. He'd followed her gaze and recognized the van from the safe house at Galt. 'Likely she wants Frosty to bring me up to speed on that.'

Misty had bolted under the sofa when Chuckie had entered the house, and again when Tara came in. Now that she heard her 'person' stirring, she poked her head out and mewed quizzically.

"Yeah, little girl. It's a little busy around here, but these people are friends. They won't hurt you," she crooned reassuringly to the cat. "Aunt June's comin' to visit, maybe she'll have a present for you."

Misty purred and rubbed against her person's hand, then scampered down the hall to the bedroom.

"She's a sweet little cat," Tara mused, following Cat to the bedroom. "Chibs is really taken with her."

"They have a mutual admiration society goin' on," Cat replied, settling on the edge of the bed while Tara retrieved the first aid supplies.

Misty had jumped onto the chair on Alex's side of the bedroom and curled up in its' depths. She licked her and swiped it over her face a few times, then closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Tara returned with the first aid supplies and quietly cut strips of tape from the roll.

"How's everythin' goin' today, Tara?" Cat inquired as the doctor gently removed the tape from her bandage.

"No change. Jax won't eat, just drinks and smokes. Hasn't said a single word."

"I'm sorry, kitten."

"So am I. We're moving back to Jax's house this afternoon. Charming PD and Lodi CSI finally finished their investigation." Tara examined the suture along Cat's bottom eyelid. "Looks good. Having pain or any other discomfort?"

"Not from any of my injuries," Cat replied.

Tara nodded sympathetically.

"I imagine our friends outside think I'm throwin' some kind of party," Cat added ruefully.

Tara's hands froze in mid air. "What friends?"

"Didn't you see the van parked across the street? The one with mirrored windows?"

Tara thought for a moment. "I think I did see a van when I pulled up. Didn't think anything of it."

Cat shrugged. "It's the Feds. Tig did a sweep of the house for bugs when he spotted 'em this mornin'. I did a sweep in here, we're clear. Just be careful what y'all say until I check the rest of the house."

"That's why you sent the men to the garage," Tara acknowledged as she resumed bandaging Cat's eye. "Frosty's more than just a 'family friend',"

"Yes, though he's on a 'need to know' basis."

Tara returned the first aid supplies to the bathroom and returned to sit on the bed next to Cat.

"Is the surveillance going to cause a problem?"

Cat shook her head. "No, we've got that covered. Tig should have shared it with Clay before he left," she proceeded to fill Tara in on the cover story.

"I'd rather you have the information now, in case our friends ask questions," she added.

"Does it bother you to lie to the cops?" Tara asked bluntly.

"Not in this case," Cat replied. "Stahl is the worst kind of bad cop; I have no problem with sendin' her on a wild Tig chase."

"Things aren't always black and white, are they?' Tara replied dryly. 'Should I ask her how I can keep from tellin' the Feds too much about Sack's murder and Abel's kidnapping? That meeting is tomorrow!'

"No, they aren't. Sometimes there are a Hell of a lot of different shades of grey," the older woman replied. "I know I'll be in a world of trouble if Stahl ever finds out I helped pull the wool over her eyes. I'll cross that bridge when – and if – I come to it."

Cat gazed at the younger woman. "When it comes to Stahl, less is more. The less you tell her, the more it helps everyone else avoid trouble from her in the long run."

Tara nodded and stood up. "Thanks, Cat."

"For what?" she replied, heading out down the hall to the living room.

"Clearing the proverbial trees so I can see the forest," Tara explained. 'Think I'll talk to Clay and get his input on what to tell the Feds.'

Chuckie retrieved Cat's keys from the peg by the door and gestured for Frosty to join him. The two men walked out into the garage, Chuckie handing the keys to Frosty as they entered it.

Frosty crossed to the large black Yamaha while Chuckie opened the garage door. He decided to open it all the way. 'The better to keep an eye on our friends.'

Frosty stuck the key in the Yamaha's ignition, but didn't turn it on. He stepped back to admire the machine and smiled at the declaration on the trunk proclaiming it belonged to 'Tig's Old Lady'.

"It's a nice looking ride. Big for someone of Cat's stature, though," Chuckie observed.

"It's big, but she can handle it. She had a similar one back in Indiana. Never let it get away from her."

Chuckie pointed at the trunk with a wide grin. "Looks like Tig managed to mark her as his property after all!"

"Huh?"

"I saw the ring Tig gave her, she told me it was a compromise because she wouldn't get a 'property of' tattoo. She didn't say Tig had marked her bike!" Chuckie grinned.

Frosty shrugged and straddled the bike, straightening it and putting the gear into neutral. He turned the key in the ignition and was rewarded with the 'Christmas tree lights' blazing into life on the dash.

Though it had been many ears since he'd ridden with her, Frosty easily recalled how to start the bike. He pressed the electronic ignition with his thumb and Blackie II fired up immediately, idling to a boisterous purr. The sound of the engine filled the garage.

Chuckie moved to the side of the garage, holding the bug detector in the palm of his hand. When the detector gave the all clear, Chuckie motioned for Frosty to join him.

"Did Tig tell you about that van across the street?" Chuckie asked after Frosty dismounted and walked over to him.

"Feds are stakin' out the joint."

"I accept that. It's OK, we can talk," he opened his palm to display the detector. "I just wanted to be sure you knew before we said too much."

"What about Dr. Knowles?"

"She's the club VP's old lady. I suspect Cat will fill her in."

Frosty shook his head. "Ever feel like you're in an episode of 'Mission: Impossible'?"

"It does take a little getting used to," Chuckie commiserated. "I'm still working on that, too."

Tara and Cat walked out into the garage as the men were talking. Cat strode to her bike and gazed longingly at it. As the others watched, she revved the engine a few times, then turned it off and set the gear out of neutral before removing the key.

"Won't be too much longer, I hope, old boy," she murmured to the bike, running a caressing hand over the gas tank.

"We're clear, Miss Cat," Chuckie stated as he handed over the bug detector to her. "Didn't do the house or the phone lines, but we're safe from infestation here."

"Thanks, Chuckie. Tara's ready to take you to the clubhouse."

He nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Cat."

He followed Tara out of the garage to her Olds. Cat watched until it backed out of the drive before hitting the switch to close the garage door.

"Tara will fill Chuckie in on the cover story," she advised Frosty before they entered the house. "Let me run the bug detector on the phones and the interior. You can nap on the couch if you need to."

"Think I'll take you up on that," Frosty yawned and stretched out on the sofa. He intended to watch as Cat swept the interior of the house, but fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

June sighed with relief as her GPS' Scottish burr announced, "Ye hae arrived at yer destinayshun! Oot of tha' car wi' ye!"

"My pleasure!" she replied with a grin. Putting the gear in park. She noticed that no motorcycle was present, but the hated Shabby Lay and another vehicle were.

"Looks like a used car lot!" she murmured, sliding from the driver's seat and going back to the trunk. She didn't see a short, dark – haired form walk out of the front door to her car until she heard a voice remark, "Hey, June! Need help with your bags?"

June squealed and jumped at the unexpected presence beside her, then grinned at the sight of Cat's friend. "Hey, Frosty! Thanks." She watched as Frosty hefted her suitcase, then closed the trunk and gathered her purse and knitting bag, locking the car with the remote.

"Alex gone?"

"Yeah," Frosty grunted, shifting the suitcase to his other hand so he could open the door. "He made her take an anti – anxiety pill before he left, made it a little easier on her. She slept awhile."

"Smart man. Was it rough for her?"

"She wasn't real happy about it. She's in the master bath, freshenin' up," Frosty replied, shutting the door behind them.

Ming and Ebony rushed up to her, meowing and rubbing her legs in greeting. "Glad to see y'all, too! Yes, I have knitted mice for you, but let me at least get settled!"

The cats continued purring and rubbing at her legs. Ming reached up and batted at the knitting bag.

"Must be some strong catnip," Frosty observed.

"It is," June laughed, setting her bags on the sofa and rummaging in the knitting bag. She withdrew two knitted grey mice with long tails and tossed them across the room.

Ebony and Ming scampered after their new toys, pounced on them, and buried their noses in the yarn. Loud purrs filled the room as the two felines licked and rubbed their faces all over the mice.

"I have another one for Misty. She's hidin', I suppose."

Frosty shook his head. "No, she's stickin' to Cat like glue."

"She knows her mom's upset," June explained. "Misty's always been very attuned to Cat's feelings."

"Florida seems to be agreeing with you, June," Frosty observed as the pair engaged in hug. "You've gotten color, and some freckles!"

"Thanks for noticing. How do you handle that long trip?" she asked, stretching her arms up over her head. The drive had tired her and her muscles were knotted. 'Maybe Cat and I can do a Tai Chi session later.'

"I listen to tapes of old broadcasts. It's really not that bad once you get used to it," he shrugged.

"Is that June's voice I hear?" Cat called from the hallway.

"It's not Betty Frackin' White!" June called back.

"Smart – ass!" Cat grinned in welcome as she entered the living room.

Misty was trotting along behind her, but stopped at the entrance to the living room. She sensed the presence of a strange, but familiar person in the house. Her nose twitched at the aroma of fresh catnip.

June reached into her bag, withdrew another knitted mouse, and tossed it in Misty's direction. The little one eyed black cat leaped at the mouse, snagging it with her paws. She batted at the mouse, then picked it up with a churring sound and trotted back down the hallway.

"I think she approves," Cat remarked with a grin.

"They all do," June replied, pointing to Ming and Ebony playing with their mice. The two friends embraced, Cat resting her head on June's shoulder. "You OK, hon?"

"I'm hangin' in there. Tara – Dr. Knowles – stopped in earlier to check my eye and change the bandage. It got a little wet earlier for some reason," Cat grinned ruefully. "You hungry? Got some Bambi chili ready to be heated for y'all."

"Ravenous!" June replied.

"Frost, would you take her bags to the library? The chili will be heated up by the time you get back."

"Consider it done," he replied, taking the suitcase and the other bags in hand and carrying them down the hall.

June followed Cat into the kitchen, watching as she dished out chili into individual bowls and covered them with plastic wrap. She set one in the microwave and set the timer.

"Where do y'all keep the utensils?" June asked. "Might as well make myself useful as well as ornamental."

Cat pointed at the drawer while she loaded the coffeepot. "I should've done this earlier, but got sidetracked," she stated apologetically.

"A little late for me to have that," June replied. "Got tea?"

Cat favored her best friend with 'the look'. "That's like askin' the Pope if he's Catholic!"

"A simple 'yes' would've sufficed!"

"C'mon, girls! Play nice!" Frosty interjected as he returned to the kitchen.

"We are," June grinned, taking over the chili preparations while Cat brewed the tea.

"Frosty, since you're drivin', do you want coffee, tea, milk, or soda?"

"Soda's fine. I'll get it," he replied, opening the refrigerator and helping himself.

"Pull one out for me, will ya?" Cat added, pouring hot water over the tea leaves in the pot.

"You didn't have to get out the special tea, I'd have been fine with a tea bag." June offered.

"Bite – your – tongue!" Cat snarled.

"Sor – ree!" June sniffed, placing utensils on the place mats on the kitchen table, then retrieving the first warm bowl from the microwave, setting it in front of Frosty.

"As you should be!" Cat nodded triumphantly.

Frosty snickered at them while stirring his chili. He watched June remove the second warmed bowl and bring it to the table.

Cat allowed the tea to sit a few minutes before she poured the fragrant brew into a large mug and set it at June's place. "I don't have the pink packets. You'll have to make do with the blue."

Neither Cat nor Frosty looked at the vacant seat that Alex usually occupied. "Likely won't hear from him until he stops for the night – or gets to his destination."

"I'm don't understand why he didn't ask someone else to go in his place," June fumed. "Reminds me of Brownie! Doesn't that man care that you just got outta the hospital?"

'Dammit, Alex. Why didn't you just tell her the truth and be done with it?' Cat closed her eye for a moment. 'No, he couldn't. Just because June knows what he is doesn't mean he felt comfortable bringin' her into the circle. Guess he figured she'd take it better from me, anyway.'

Frosty squirmed in his chair, not comfortable with speaking up for Alex and spilling the beans if he wasn't supposed to. His gaze traveled from June to Cat, silently imploring her to quickly set June straight.

June gazed from Frosty to Cat, frowning when she noticed Cat was holding her head in her hands. "Chick? What's wrong? You in pain?" June asked worriedly.

"No. Not physically," Cat sighed tiredly. "I'm just a little tired of fighting that damn frackin' ghost."

"I'm sorry, Cat," June replied softly. "But there are similarities, you can't deny it."

"I won't. But y'all gotta remember that looks are deceiving, kittenface."

"And that's all they are, June," Frosty added. "Sure, both of 'em are bikers, and both of 'em aren't exactly law abiding citizens. But that's about as similar as they are. Alex is as opposite from Cory as night is to day."

June stared in surprise at Frosty. "You sound awfully sure of that. You've only met him a couple of times!"

"Yes," he replied. "And I've seen how Alex treats her. She's everything to him. You remember how Cory treated her."

"Do I ever!" June growled, her

"Hello? I'm right here!" Cat grumbled, though she was grateful to Frosty for taking the lead in the conversation. 'June might be more willing to listen to Frosty. He's on the outside lookin' in like her; anything I say will just come off as defensive."

"I know that, kitten," Frosty replied. "I can see y'all sittin' there," he patted her arm before turning his attention back to June. "I'm gonna tell ya somethin' more about Alex, that will put your mind at ease once and for all."

'Oh, no! Frosty, you didn't!' Cat felt her heart leap into her throat.

"What could you possibly tell me about Alex that will put me at ease?" June asked at the same moment.

"He knows all about what Cory did. If I had any doubts about how Alex feels about her, his reaction eliminated them."

"Did he beat on his chest like Tarzan and go all alpha male?" June smirked.

"That's one way of puttin' it. To say he wasn't pleased would be an understatement. If Brown is lucky, he'll stay far away from Charming."

Cat's response was to lay her head on the table and bump it repeatedly against the surface.

Tig maintained an alert vigilance for Mayans or any other trouble until he was well out of the area. Once past the San Joaquin county line, he engaged the throttle lock and settled in for the ride.

He was only vaguely aware of the passing miles, automatically avoiding potholes, slower traffic, and other obstacles with the ease of years of practice.

Alex first recalled the basics Cat had shared with him that long – ago day near their favorite lake.

"He was also known as 'Brownie'," she'd explained that long ago day. She'd told him of how they'd met after she graduated college, but continued to work during semester breaks for additional money.

"Cory took classes at the university, but never graduated. He hung out on campus, finding odd jobs for cash when he needed it. One night during Summer break, right after grad, I was workin' the late night rock shift and he must've liked what he heard. I walked down the stairs to leave at the end of my shift to find him sittin' on the hood of my car."

"I'll bet you didn't like that!" Alex had laughed, knowing how particular Cat could be about her vehicles. "Did ya come out swingin' the baseball bat?"

"Nope. Called the campus police and had them send him on his way. Figured that would be the end of it."

Instead of scaring him off, Cory was intrigued. It fascinated him that Cat would volunteer to work the late nighter, which most women avoided. He'd also been impressed with her moxie to have the authorities run him off from her parked car. He had a feeling that she was watching his unceremonious removal from the station and called the request line the next night to talk to her.

"He apologized for scarin' me. I told him he didn't scare me, just pissed me off as one should never sit on another person's vehicle. He told me he felt that way about his bike, offered to bring it over the next morning to take me for a ride, so I accepted."

"Why the fuck would you do something so stupid?" Alex growled.

"Phone groupies are usually alike. They get an idea of what y'all look like based on your voice, but when they met the body that goes with it, they take off with their tails between their legs," she replied wryly. "At least, that's what always happened with me. Figured he'd be no different."

A candy apple red 1978 Honda CX500B was sitting next to her 1981 Yamaha Seca 750 when she got off air later that morning. The same dark – haired, tall, thin man leaned against the Honda, openly admiring her own candy apple red ride.

She couldn't see his eyes behind the black tinted glasses he wore. He wasn't Hollywood handsome, but his looks were striking, reminding her of Jim Morrison of The Doors.

"I liked his bike, though it wasn't as powerful as mine. Then I fell in love with the man when he didn't hop on his and race away. He didn't say anything condescending about Big Red, or what a girl like me was doin' with a bike that powerful."

They'd gone to a hole in the wall diner near campus and talked for hours over many cups of coffee. By the end of that meeting, Cat was assured that he was genuinely interested in her as a person.

They saw a lot of each other, whenever he was in town. They often went riding together, preferring Indiana's county roads and state roadways to the dual lane interstates and federal highways. They liked the same things besides bikes – fishing, swimming, and much of the same music. She introduced him to her parents, and also to June.

"So June liked him?"

"At first. June lost faith in him when he pulled a scam. I had no reason to believe he was lying about being bitten by a possibly rabid bat and needing treatments."

"Why did she think he was lying about that?'

Cat outlined how Cory had fed the story to their entire circle of friends and gotten money from them, including June. "I gave him money and use of the car to get his treatments. June got suspicious because he wouldn't let me take him to get the treatments. He said it was too gruesome for me to be around."

Several of their friends tried to get her to see that something wasn't right about the situation. With no concrete evidence, Cat had refused to turn against him like the majority of their friends did.

"June was the only other person who believed in him. I think more out of friendship for me than because she believed in his innocence. He eventually decided there was too much suspicion on him and he told me he was leavin' in order to make things easier for me. I gave him some money, and he and the Honda left town. I didn't hear from him for three years until I'd moved to Terre Haute."

Alex knew how her life had changed drastically by then. Her father's cancer had been diagnosed; her parents had divorced; her mother's chronic mental illness had manifested itself; and her maternal grandmother and great – grandmother had died within a year of each other.

"Weren't you pissed at him for stayin' away and silent all that time?"

"I was hurt and mad," Cat admitted to him. "But I loved him. He'd lost the bike, said had to sell it. I was upgradin' then to a new Seca, so I gave him Big Red and wepicked up where we left off. At first, things were great. It was just like old times before the bat bite. I was happy for a while. Then shit started happenin' that didn't make sense."

"Such as?" Alex growled. 'I have a feelin' I'm not gonna like this. Gotta hold it together if I wanna learn everything."

"Because of investments from Grandma's estate, I had a pretty nice nest egg, and sometimes kept back money in the house. That money kept disappearin', so I quit that habit and just kept about $25 at a time in my wallet. That started disappearin' too."

Alex tensed, sensing what was coming next and hoping he was wrong. Cat glanced at him, but he nodded encouragingly at her. "Go ahead, baby. I'm OK."

"Once I quit leavin' back money around the apartment, he started droppin' hints about bein' added to my bank accounts. I resisted the idea. Hell, we weren't married, and I wasn't about to mingle money, especially when he didn't seem to be addin' to the coffers!"

"Wasn't he workin'?'" Alex growled. 'No man capable of gettin' outta bed should have a woman payin' his way!'

"If he was, he kept the money to himself. One day, he was more insistent about it – almost desperate. I told him he should use all the money he was pilchin' from me to open his own account. We had our first knock – down, drag – out physical altercation. I gave as good as I got, though he wound up leavin' a permanent mark," she gestured to the scar on her throat.

Alex leapt to his feet and began pacing back and forth, his hands opening and closing into fists. 'I'll kill the bastard! What a shit!' He cocked a fist and slammed it into a nearby tree limb, the force of his anger behind the punch sent his hand through the rotting wood, which splintered with a crackling sonic boom.

Cat stared at him in apprehension. 'I'm not tellin' him another thing! If I say anything else, he'll hurt more than his knuckles and a tree limb!'

She jumped up and raced to him, worriedly examining his hand. The skin on his knuckles was broken and bleeding. "Can you move your fingers?" she asked worriedly, holding his hand flat in the palm of her hand.

He flexed the fingers, running them against her palm reassuringly. "No harm done, baby. Need a toothpick?" He glanced wryly at the pile of splintered wood at his feet.

She grabbed a water bottle from the ground and poured the contents over his hand, washing the blood and dirt from his knuckles. Her eyes blazed emerald fire as she worked.

"You're frackin' lucky y'all didn't fracture your hand! Who the Hell do y'all think ya are, anyway?"

He enjoyed her subtle fussing, but enjoyed her ministrations on his wounds more. He pointed to the 'Sgt at Arms' patch on his cut and grinned, "Man of steel, baby!"

"Humpf!" she snorted, retreating to the back of the PT's hatch and withdrawing the first aid kid from the tool box. She removed antiseptic and bandages from it, then returned to where he was standing, holding his hand away from him so water wouldn't drip on his jeans.

She wordlessly dabbed the antiseptic on his scraped knuckles, blew on them to dry the skin, then applied the bandages.

Alex flexed his hand and wiggled his fingers when she was done. The bandages held. "Thanks, baby. Is that the end of the story?"

"As far as you're concerned, it is," she retorted.

He grabbed her by the arm and drew her close to him. "If there's more, I need to hear about it," he growled.

She shook her head, gazing resolutely at him. "No, you don't. It's past history. Best to leave it there."

Though he'd asked her several times after that event, she refused to tell him anything more about it. Occasionally, his sleep would be disrupted by her moaning and crying from a nightmare about Brown.

When those infrequent nightmares arose, he would hold her close, stroking her hair and murmuring assurances to her until she relaxed and slid deeper into sleep.

The fact that she would not completely wake up from the nightmares unnerved him. Eventually he asked Tara about it.

"That could be PTSS. Stress can be a trigger. Has she been taking the medicine?"

"Like clockwork," he admitted.

"Keep an eye on her. With everything going on around here lately, it's not surprising that she's a little stressed. I think we all are," Tara assured him. "If she gets worse, I can set up an appointment with the hospital psychiatrist."

"A shrink? Why would she need a shrink when she's got me to talk to?"

Tara grinned wryly. "Sometimes a person can tell a stranger things they would never want the people closest to them to know."

At the time, Alex had been dealing with his own demons. He understood exactly what Tara meant. "OK, doc. I'll keep ya posted."

When Alex's own demon raised it's ugly head and the truth came out, Cat had stood by him. The only obstacle was her continued refusal to share any further intel about Brown.

Though reluctant, Frosty agreed to fill in those blanks for him. After learning the whole story, Alex was more amazed at his wife's capacity for mercy than before. 'Hell, he makes Zobelle look damn near angelic!'

Frosty explained that after the fight that resulted in Cat's throat wound, the pair had split for awhile. Brown had apologized over and over and agreed to go through counseling with her, which brought about their reconciliation.

"Things appeared OK for a few weeks, then Cat started getting sick. Upset stomach one day, hives all over her another. She was tired all the time. Complained of headaches and blurred vision. One day she came to work limpin' and bruised, so I took her to the ER. She had a nasty bone separation in her ankle. Said she'd fallen down the stairs. That's why she was in that cast from knee to toe on her left leg."

"Is that when she had to use her bike to get around?" Alex inquired.

Frosty nodded. "There was no way she could drive with that cast. Cory wouldn't drive her to work, said he had other things more important to do, and it was her fault for fallin' in the first place. So she had no choice but to ride."

Alex grinned at her ingenuity, though he wasn't pleased with more proof of Brown's insensitivity towards her. "You said it was his fault that she was injured. What'd he do?"

Frosty glanced at the stranglehold Alex had on his beer bottle. "I'm not sure I should tell y'all, if ya cut yourself on that bottle, Cat'll never forgive me."

Alex placed the empty bottle on the end table beside the sofa and clasped his hands around one knee. "Keep talkin', Frost."

Frosty took a deep breath and a long pull at his beer before continuing. "When I took her to the hospital and they found the bone separation, they also ran a number of routine tests. The tests found evidence of minute poison in her system and she was admitted. I reported it to the cops and told them Brown had to be behind it. They arrested him at the apartment they shared."

"I suppose he denied it at first!" Alex snarled, his fingers white against his black denim clad leg.

"Oh, yeah," Frosty replied. "So the cops told them she'd died. Came up with a fake death certificate and the like, but wouldn't let him identify the body. The cops told him that Rev. Marshall made the ID as next of kin."

There was no evidence to tie Cory Brown to any wrong doing. He was released from the Vigo County Correctional Center and allowed to return to the apartment.

Brown did not know he was under surveillance. Cat's home had been wired, but he was smart enough not to make any calls from her phone. A thorough search had been made of the apartment before his release, but no incriminating evidence was found.

The morning following his release from jail, Brown rode to a local adult video emporium that was suspected of dealing dope on the side.

"Brown hung out there every day for hours. Whether he was on the payroll or not – officially or unofficially – was never determined. He didn't stay long, but he did leave his knap sack there, which aroused suspicion. The cops followed him to Cat's bank. He was taped presentin' legal paperwork authorizing him to make withdrawals. He asked for the savings and checking accounts to be closed, half to be provided in traveler's checks, the remainder in cash."

Frosty outlined how the police had arrested Brown outside the bank, confiscating the video tape from the bank. Brown waived the right to counsel and admitted to administering small amounts of poison in her food and drink daily.

Frosty cringed as he quoted what Brown had told the police. "He told them 'the damn shit wasn't workin' fast enough, so I set it up for her to have an 'accident'. It should've broken her neck instead of separating a bone in her fucking ankle! Bitch is like those fuckin' felines. Lands on her feet and has nine fuckin' lives'!"

"He tried to kill her for her money?" Alex growled in disbelief. "Did he think she was a millionairess of some kind?"

Frosty shook his head. "Yup. True, her grandmother left her a small inheritance, but it was no gold mine."

It was obvious to Alex that 'Brownie' had learned of the demise of Cat's grandmother and figured on a sizable inheritance. "So the rat bastard pretended to love her while slowly trying to kill her for a few grand. I hope he fried!"

Frosty shook his head. "He demanded a speedy trial, and a bench one at that. His confession sealed the deal, and he was convicted of attempted murder. He was sentenced to life with no parole."

'Should be easy to find someone in the Indiana prison system willin' to make a kill! Save the taxpayers some money!' He smiled grimly. "What prison is he in?"

"He escaped a few years into his sentence. Faked an illness, overpowered a guard en route to the hospital and got away. By then, Cat had relocated to Indianapolis, met and married Bill, making it difficult for anyone to find her if she didn't want them to." He sighed and added, "As far as I know, he's still out there somewhere."

'Which might explain why none of that came up in the background check,' Alex mused before he'd exploded with rage against the man he hated almost more than Kozik.

Alex looked down at the instrument panel and frowned at the fuel gage. Though the Harley got much better gas mileage than most cars, he was shocked to see the indicator hovering dangerously close to 'E'.

He shifted a bit in the saddle to ease his butt and leg muscles. 'I'll need to gas up at the next exit.' He didn't like to use the reserve tank if he didn't need to. He felt annoyed with himself for letting his attention wander for so long.

The night air was cool and helped soothed the heat of renewed anger. He scanned the road ahead, looking for an exit sign or any other indication of a place where he could not only get gas, but stretch his legs and eat.

'Might as well keep ridin'. Sooner I meet up with SAMPOR, the quicker we can get Gemma somewhere off the beaten path. Can't sleep anyway. Mind's too full of shit.'

An information sign gleamed in the bike's headlights, announcing the next exit was just a mile ahead. Another sign displaying icons for gas, food, and lodging followed right after.

'Ask and y'all will receive!' he smiled at the sound of Cat's voice in his head uttering the comment. His stomach growled, reminding him that it needed fuel as much as the bike did.

"Hold on both of ya! Shit!" He signaled for the exit and followed it off the highway. Neon lights for various gas stations and restaurants dotted the landscape on either side of the road.

He paused a moment at the end of the exit incline, contemplating which type of food sounded most satisfying. Decision made, he made his turn and followed the asphalt towards a truck stop plaza.

He decided to eat first, found a parking place for the Harley, and eased out of the saddle. 'Damn! Not old enough to get this stiff from ridin'!' He stretched his legs and arms, feeling the muscles ripple in response.

When he was satisfied he could walk without shuffling like an old codger, he entered the dining area and settled into a booth. He scanned the menu and contemplated a beer. 'Too much at stake to risk it,' he decided, placing his order for black coffee and a steak with fries.

"Where's the bathroom, doll?" he grinned at the waitress when she placed the coffee in front of him.

The waitress popped her gum and pointed towards the back, where a neon light announced 'restrooms' in bright colors.

"Thanks," he sipped some of the coffee. It was hot, but very strong. 'Cat's brew has spoiled me!' he wrinkled his nose at the liquid. Then he slid from the booth and sauntered to the rest room.

The men's room was deserted. There was another room leading from the entrance for the showers, while stalls and urinals faced each other along each wall. A vending machine offered several different styles of condoms for sale. He fed a few quarters in the machine and pocketed the individually wrapped raincoats – just in case.

He fished the offensive bike ring he taken from Cat out of his jeans pocket, slipped into a stall and hurled the ring into the toilet. Then he turned, dropped his drawers, took a dump and flushed the contents, a large grin of satisfaction crossed his face as he cleaned up.

After apologizing profusely to Cat and receiving assurances from her that she didn't hate him for spilling the beans to Alex, Frosty departed for Los Angeles.

June got herself unpacked and settled into her room then they settled in the living room recliners to talk. Cat put some music on the stereo, various selections that matched her somewhat melancholy mood.

"I'm sorry to have carried a chip on my shoulder about Alex," June commented as her fingers busily worked her knitting needles and yarn. "The man is obviously everything that Brownie wasn't and never will be."

Cat shrugged. "Y'all had every right to be worried, darlin'. Like ya said, there were a lot of disquietin' similarities."

"I don't recall usin' the word disquietin'," June replied. "This is one time I don't mind bein' wrong."

"Pardon me, could y'all speak up a little?" Cat grinned mischievously. "Not sure I heard that!"

June tossed a ball of yarn at her. "Y'all heard me! And I'm not sayin' it again!"

"Oh, if I'd only had a tape recorder!" Cat laughed, catching the yarn in one hand and tossing it back to June. Misty, curled up in Cat's lap, lifted her head, yawned, and settled back to sleep.

"See, you shouldn't get so rambunctious, you're disturbin' your pussy!"

Cat stroked the small furry body that purred under her touch. "I appreciate y'all goin' along with the cover story about Alex's absence. It's likely the Feds won't bother ya; I sure don't like puttin' ya in a compromisin' situation like this."

"Hell, y'all can't afford for me to say the wrong thing, can ya? I'd be lyin' if I said it doesn't make me uncomfortable. But it seems like tellin' a white lie in this case is the lesser of the two evils."

Lady Antebellum's 'I Need You Now' had just started playing when the two – way on the table beside Cat buzzed.

"'Bout time!" she snatched up the two – way. "Hey, love!"

"Shall I leave y'all alone so ya can enjoy a little phone sex?" June inquired with a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Fuck you!" Cat replied.

"Baby, I'm a big man, but not that big!" Alex laughed.

"Thank God for a few small blessings!" she retorted. "That was intended for the peanut gallery. How's the ride?"

"Lonesome." He paused, listening to the lyrics of the tune in the background. "That music mean you're missin' me?"

"Like a toothache," she replied dryly.

He winced at her acerbic tone of voice. "You mad at me about somethin'?" He had a feeling that Frosty had confessed to her.

"What makes y'all think that, husband? Just because y'all went behind my back and asked Frosty to play 'Paul Harvey'!"

"Say what?"

"Paul Harvey, ABC Radio newsman. Used to have a program called 'The Rest of the Story'.

And now ya know."

"Oh. That." His tone of voice held a sheepish note to it. 'Yeah, she's not real happy, a'right.'

"Yeah, that," she huffed. "Dunno what good it's gonna do y'all to know everything this late in the game."

"I needed that intel, baby. Why didn't you tell me he's been on the lam for years?"

"Nothin' y'all can do about it except worry. And there's really nothin' to worry about. He couldn't find me in Indiana and he definitely can't find me here."

He sighed in exasperation, his hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Your safety is my concern, baby. Makes me feel better that you know how to shoot, and that you're not alone."

"Don't waste time or energy worryin' about me!You've got enough on your mind without worryin' about shit that might happen but likely won't!" she snapped.

Alex whistled soundlessly. "Temper, baby! Temper! Ya feelin' a'right?"

She sighed and closed her eye. "Yeah. Just tired. And already missin' ya, if y'all must know."

"You takin' care of yourself? Have ya eaten since I left?"

"Yes," she hissed through gritted teeth. "June will vouch for me, ya wanna ask her?"

"Nah. I believe you. Stopped for fuel for me and the bike. Thought I'd call and make sure you're behavin' yourself."

"Any reports y'all are getting about me havin' a hearty party in your absence are quite true," she joked. "Been a steady stream of people – men and women – come through since y'all left!"

"No wonder you're tired, then! Bet our friends out front had a field day!"

Cat glanced out the front window at the white and tan van. She'd run another check of the premises an hour before, but she didn't want to give them an opportunity to trace the cell call.

"Speakin' of our friends across the street, love, I'm gonna let y'all go. Give me a holler when you stop for the night, and ride safe." She turned off the two – way before he could reply.

"That was kinda abrupt. Did ya do that because of them?" June noted, pointing with a knitting needle at the van.

"Yeah. Don't know if technology can trace cell calls, and don't want to give them the chance to educate me."

June capped her knitting needles and stuffed her work in her bag. "Listen, chick, I'm tired, and gotta get up early for work tomorrow. I love you. I'm happy you've got another good man in your life. Get some sleep."

"Love you, happy you're here, too. Sleep well, kittenface."

"When that man of your calls later, tell him I said for him to have sweet dreams of you."

"I'll do that," Cat yawned and stretched, cast a glare at the offending van out front, and set about securing the house for the night. She decided to take a long soak, then either watch a movie or just listen to music until Alex called later.

Tig sighed in relief as he passed the sign advertising the local 'no tel motel' SAMPOR had moved Gemma to. It signaled the end of a long, tiring journey.

'Bed's gonna feel good, though it'll be lonely without Cat.' He thought of the condoms he'd purchased earlier that evening. 'Won't need 'em tonight, too tired for that shit and don't wanna even think of goin' down that road with Gemma again!'

He pulled the Harley into the motel lot, the headlights briefly illuminating two bikes parked to one side. He flashed the brights at the two SAMPOR riders, who raised their hands in greeting. He pulled up next to their bikes and shut off the engine, dropping the kick stand with his foot.

"Hey, Tig. How's Lady Cat?" Sleeved Biker asked. "Hope you're not mad at me for givin' her that ride from the hospital to the clubhouse."

Tig unstrapped his helmet, laying it on the rear view mirror. "Nah. Knowin' my girl, she didn't give ya much choice."

"You ain't kiddin', brother! She's got a set of balls on her. How's she doin'?"

"She's OK. Still sore." He pointed at the row of doors along the single story structure. "Gemma in one of those rooms?"

"Yeah," GreyRider replied. "She's a little bored, keeps askin' for news about Charming. Nothin's made the news about the baby, but plenty about your Prospect. Sorry 'bout that man."

"Yeah. Thanks." Tig dismounted from the bike and opened the saddle bags, hauling out the duffels. "Imagine Gemma'll be happy to get a change of clothes and shit."

"Did you get a throwaway? We've not wanted to have her call on our phones, in case of Fed entanglements."

"Shit!" Tig shook his head. "Had somethin' on my mind, Sleeved."

"Cat?"

He nodded. 'Best to let 'em think I'm concerned about her injuries, instead of bothered about ancient history.'

"You can pick one up tomorrow, we've got a vendor who's a friend of the club; gives us a good price," Slick replied.

"We got you the room next to Gemma's. It's the basics; shitter, TV, bed, room phone. It's clean and cheap," GreyRider added.

"Wasn't expectin' the fuckin' Hilton," Tig growled, striding to the room GreyRider pointed out as his. He threw his duffel inside the room then stepped in front of Gemma's door.

"Gemma?" He tapped on the door as he called. "It's Tig."

He heard a squeal of delight, then the door burst open and she ran into his arms, kissing his cheek before stepping back to look at him. "Thank God! Nothin' against SAMPOR, but it's nice to see a familiar face!"

Tig stood in the doorway, a little surprised and overwhelmed by her affectionate greeting. "I – uh – brought ya some stuff from home," he muttered, handing over the duffel.

"Never mind that shit! How's Clay?"

"Missin' you, Gemma. Big time."

"Damn I miss him too. And my boys?"

Tig had anticipated she'd ask about Jax and Abel.

"They're good. Jax is tired. This shit with LOAN took a lot outta us."

Gemma spread her arms to encompass her surroundings. "So what do ya think? Opulent, eh?"

"It'll do. Don't get too attached. We're movin' ya tomorrow."

Gemma nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed, motioning for Tig to sit on one of the chairs. He left the door open, feeling the need for the security it gave.

"How's Cat handlin' all this shit?" Gemma inquired softly.

"She understands it's necessary," Tig replied shortly.

'Less we discuss that, the better. Obviously a touchy subject for him.' She took a deep breath and continued, "So how'd you keep the Feds from getting suspicious about your leavin' town?"

"My girl came through for us - again." He briefed her on the cover story Cat had developed. "One of SAMPOR's boys that resembles me is attendin' in case Stahl has it checked out."

Gemma nodded approvingly. "Good for her! I was worried about how you'd escape Stahl's scrutiny. Glad Cat's on our side."

"There's a lot of that goin' around," he agreed. "Her best friend's stayin' with her; turns out she got an assignment at St. Thomas."

"I heard about Sack. It's all over the news. When's the funeral?"

"Wake's tomorrow night; funeral's the day after. We patched him in."

Gemma fought back tears. "I'm glad of that. He deserves it. He died protectin' Tara and Abel. God damn Stahl!"

Seeing Gemma fight tears made Tig feel ill at ease. He wanted to comfort her the way any friend would but the memory of their near sexual encounter made him equally uncertain about following through on his instinct.

'Man up Trager!' He thought sternly. 'There's a difference between doin' somethin' dumb while comin' down from shrooms and givin' comfort to a hurtin' friend!' He reached out to place a hand on her shoulder.

Though they'd touched on the matter briefly at the hospital the night of Cat's wreck, Gemma was also haunted by the same memory. She flinched and edged away from him.

"Sorry," he murmured, dropping his hand and walking back to the safety of the doorway.

"No, I'm sorry," Gemma replied softly. "I'm tired and confused by all this Tig. It's not you, it's me. I'm too old to be on the lam – separated from my family."

"Why in the Hell did you go after Zobelle's kid, Gemma?"

Gemma shook her head. "I dunno, Tig. You know that Zobelle's daughter got the drop on me the night of Bobby's party so that Weston and his cronies could rape me. And she was also involved in planting that van that blew up and hurt Chibs."

Tig stared at her in surprised. "What makes you say that?"

"I saw her messin' around in the engine compartment of a parked van similar to that one. I chased after her, but she got in Weston's Bronco and got away. I didn't make the connection between that and the one that hurt Chibs until the other night, when Unser and I talked about it."

"What's that gotta do with you followin' Zobelle's kid to the safe house?"

Gemma shrugged. "Dunno. Guess I wanted to make her feel some of what we felt."

"So you didn't intend to kill her, sweetheart?"

"It wasn't on my agenda. She didn't give me a choice, Tig. I – I've never killed someone before; it was a little overwhelming. I wish now I'd never followed the bitch! "

"Gemma, don't second guess yourself. You did what you felt you needed to do for your own peace of mind. The gash gave ya no choice."

They stared at each other, the physical distance between them didn't detract from their familial ties. "I appreciate that, Tig. You look all in. Was the ride a rough one?"

"Got some things on my mind, Gemma. I'll be OK. I'm gonna get settled for the night, catch some sleep."

"Be sure to give Cat my thanks and my love," she replied, grabbing the duffel and slinging it onto the bed.

"A'right. See ya in the mornin'."

"G'nite, Tigger. Sweet dreams of Cat."

Cat enjoyed a long soak in the whirlpool bath, allowing the jets to work on her sore, aching muscles.

Following the soak, Cat put a DVD in the bedroom player and lounged on the bed, surrounded by the cats, waiting for Alex to call.

She's chosen to watch a dub of 'Phantom of the Opera' from the 1990s starring Paul Stanley, the front man for KISS, as the Phantom. It had been made from the Pantages Theatre in Canada.

'I shouldn't have purchased a bootleg copy; the picture quality ain't the greatest; neither is the audio. Other than clips on You Tube, it's the only way I can enjoy seeing the Starchild in this role, and I'm gonna enjoy every minute of it.'

As the story of the lonely genius unfolded on the television screen, Cat was found herself recalling Alex's sense of awe and enjoyment of the Las Vegas production they'd attended just a few months earlier.

The two – way buzzed for her attention as Erik, the Phantom, was singing his part of 'Wandering Child.'

"Hey!" She paused the DVD player, so she could give her full attention to Alex.

"Hey back, baby! Why aren't you asleep?"

"What makes y'all think I wasn't?"

"Don't play with me, Cat!" He growled. "I heard the TV. You were watching that Phantom thing of yours, ain't cha?"

"Yeah. Was thinkin' of when we saw it in Vegas."

"Nice to know you're thinkin' of me while watchin' other men," he laughed.

"Ever and always thinkin' of y'all, love. You stopped for the night?"

"Yeah. I've met up with our friends. The guys say 'hi' to you, by the way."

Cat's eyebrow shot up to her bangs. "Wow! You must have a nasty case of TB!"

"Yeah. It's worth it; I did a lot of thinkin' on the ride."

She didn't have to ask what he'd thought about. "You'll be glad to know I didn't scalp Frosty for spillin' the beans."

"Bet ya made him sweat awhile!"

She laughed at him. "Moi? I wouldn't think of such a thing!"

"Nah. You'd just do it, baby!" He laughed again, then his voice sobered. "You gonna be a'right at Sack's viewin' tomorrow night?"

"I guess, love. It's gonna be difficult, these things always are. I'll take Chuckie with me, gonna talk to him about it tomorrow."

"Glad you're not goin' alone, baby. Be sure to call me when ya get home."

"OK, love. Have a good sleep; I'd say y'all earned it. Be talkin' to y'all -"

"Wait a minute, baby! Don't be in such a hurry!"

Cat sighed wearily. "Love, we talked about this!We don't wanna give our friends a chance to trace you!"

"I know," he replied softly. "Just wanted to tell ya I found the care package. Now I can have my favorite breakfast in the mornin'!"

Cat grinned. "Don't eat 'em all in one settin', love! It's not easy to send those muffins to a trade show!"

"When did you sneak the candy bars in my bag?"

"Obviously when y'all weren't lookin'!" she retorted.

"You are so gonna pay for that, woman!" he growled in mock menace.

"Promises, promises!"

It was Tig's turn to grin. "I always keep my promises, baby!"

"Glad you're safe, love. Sweet dreams," she replied, shutting off the two – way before he could respond.

He heard the phone go dead and looked at the display to find the words 'Call Ended' displayed on the screen. "Sleep well, baby," he murmured, setting the phone on the charger.

Tig flopped on the bed and unwrapped one of the Snicker bars he'd found wrapped in tin foil in his duffel. The candy bar was cool, as if it'd just come out of the refrigerator at home, just the way he liked them.

He smiled as he bit into the candy. 'Almost all the comforts of home!'

Cat placed the two – way on the bedside table and connected the charging unit to it. She considered watching the rest of the DVD, but her heart wasn't in it. She turned off the player and the television and snuggled under the covers.

Misty padded along her side and curled up next to her, nudging Cat's hand with her head for petting. Her paw stretched out to Alex's side of the bed. The cat gave a plaintive 'mew'.

"Yeah. I miss him too, little girl. But he's safe and sound up North. Time for us to get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be one busy day."