A/N: Sorry for the delay, I don't know when the next part is coming, but I just moved house and country so I am a bit jammed... Thank you for your support and kind words!

When she showed up the next day at St Thomas to start working, even though she was exhausted from having slept very little, Tara felt fine. Hell, she would even say she felt wonderful, without overselling it: work always made everything better in her case. She couldn't wait to get started on the procedure.

Philips had been waiting for her, making small talk about where she had chosen to stay, and if she was staying with family. She had dodged that question, saying she never had that much family in Charming anyway, which wasn't a lie. He asked if she had ran into old friends, and she had been able to use the same evasion technique. She didn't want to lie to her mentor, especially since he had taken her on a trip across the country so that she could assist on a procedure, but she didn't want to spill those beans. She wanted him to think of her as a fellow surgeon, and not as a girl who was coming home after having been gone for a long time. In some ways, she was, but she didn't want that to define her.

They had gone to meet their patient and his family. Old habits really did die hard, Tara thought, as she had felt shifty around so many Mayans patches. She had been a Son's lady, and it was just like the tattoo on her back, there was no rubbing it off.

She could see that the leader, whose son they would be operating on, kept on watching her, not that discreetly, trying quite obviously to figure out why she rang a bell, and she hoped this wouldn't be an issue if he were to connect the dots. She took notes on his son's pathology, and talked to the little boy, knowing you had to gain the parents' trust for sure but that the worst mistake one could make was to forget who their actual patient was. On that front, it was pretty smooth, as the boy took a liking to her.

When they left the room, her arms laden with books and charts and whastnot, Philips turned to her and said:

"I think my Mayan friend remembers you from somewhere… Will it be a problem?"

"Only if he makes it into one," she answered truthfully. "I used to be part of Charming's crowd, and I have no intention of denying it, but this is not who I'm now. I'm a surgeon, from Chicago, and I can help his son… We can help his son," she said, changing the pronouns," but you know what I mean. I have no issue with him. He has no reasons to have any with me."

"Good. Where are you off to now?" He asked.

"I want to do some research. I heard about an article on the kid's condition, published by the Mayo clinic. I would like to try and see if they could fax it over. It's about an alternative technique to …"

And she told him about what she had heard through the professional grapevine. They both felt quite secured about the method they planned to use, but they both would rather be too thorough rather than not enough, especially since the actually operation wouldn't take place for another 3 days. They agreed on Tara trying to get her hands on those articles, and more if she heard about more. Philips said he would send some emails to colleagues to help her task, hopefully helping get to the papers faster.

Philips went to the office he had been assigned for his short stay there, and Tara had a moment when she sort of disliked her boss, as he didn't invite her to share his quarters. They had been working closely together for a while, and she knew that the emails he planned to send and the phone calls he would make didn't warrant complete solitude in his office. They could have shared.

Then again, he was her boss. Maybe he hadn't liked the fact that she had decided to get in touch with her Mayo people without telling him first, and this was his way of punishing her. Whatever, she told herself, she could deal with that. She went to meet the hospital's administrator, an old guy who seemed to be counting the days until he could retire, and he told her that she could use the interns' office. There was an internet connection there, as well as a phone and a printer. He pointed her to one of the nurses, who found her some scrubs and a blouse, something she had missed dearly that morning. When you were wearing a blouse, people didn't care about what you had had for lunch, or if you used to shag guys when you were a teenager. They only cared about the medical knowledge you had to have and how it would save their loved ones. Perhaps if she had been wearing this medical attire, instead of a suit, there would have been less staring and more listening to what they were saying.

She changed in the locker room, then made her way to her new "office". During that day, she met with a couple of interns, but they mostly stayed on their side and let her do her thing. After making a few phone calls to colleagues and old friends, and Philips having done the same, Tara had a list of publications to get her hands on. Since it was too late to have the books delivered, she would have to spend as much time as she could making calls and asking for favors, so that people would share the articles through the internet.

Philips and she were quite certain that they were planning on doing things right, or as right as they could, but research had evolved on this pathology, and they had felt the obligation to get up to date on that. Tara was in charge of gathering the "intel", reading it, processing it, and then forwarding it to her supervisor if she thought he would benefit from what she had read.

She had so much work to do, she got started right away.

The day after, in the beginning of the afternoon, Tara put down the article she had printed and was reading, and got up to stretch. She had slept at the hospital, only going back to her motel room for a shower and some clean underwear. Obtaining the articles and research was like trying to get rocks to bleed, as most surgeons only wanted to expose the result of their research in grand venues, at medical conferences, but she was getting there. She supposed she had gotten a bloody tear or two from that proverbial rock. Philips was … She didn't even know what he was doing. She knew he had a pager if she needed him and that was it.

She decided to go for a walk, maybe to the cafeteria for something to eat. She took her article with her, as well as her patient's chart, and made her way slowly through the corridor, thinking how all hospitals were sort of the same. They could be arranged in very different fashion of course, but since functionality was the focus point of everybody's efforts, some paths were the same, some use of space absolutely identical from one hospital to another.

She was about to enter the cafeteria, when she saw someone who felt so familiar seating on the side. She must have stared too intensely, for the person lifted their eyes and met hers.

"Tara!" Donna exclaimed, getting up to hug her former friend.

A bit surprised, Tara returned the hug, then took a good look at her friend. She had been crying.

"Donna, what's going on?" She asked, as she maneuvered them so that they would be sitting.

"You work here now?" Donna asked. "You look so doctor-ish like that!"

"I'm visiting for a consult, and the scrubs and blouse are responsible for the doctorish appearance," Tara answered, using her friend's words with a smile.

"Still far away from Charming then?" Donna asked.

Tara didn't answer, as they both knew the answer.

"So, how have you been," the surgeon asked. "How is Opie? How are the kids?"

She seemed to remember from a conversation a long time ago that Donna and Opie had tied the knot and started breeding…

Donna burst out crying again, and Tara pulled her in for a hug, hating how sad her old friend was.

They stayed like that for a short time, Donna sniffling on her shoulder, and Tara waited, patiently, for her to be able to speak again.

Finally, Donna lifted her head, wiped some of her tears and said:

"I should have left when you did."

"Oh Donna." Tara said, her heart breaking.

Donna and Opie… They had been the real deal. (She didn't let her mind wander to Jax and her, who had been the real deal too.) If Donna was having regrets, then things had to be terrible.

"No I shouldn't have", Donna started again. "I just… Opie is in jail. He got five years, with parole in three years, except he will never make parole. He's been locked in for a month now, and I just… I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'm taking care of our babies, Ellie and Kenny, but I feel so trapped, and so fake… Like I'm telling my kids their father is a good guy, and I know it in my heart, but when they ask what Daddy did wrong to go to jail, I'm faced with my lies or my contradictions, and I don't know what to say… Fucking Sons of Anarchy."

Tara took a quick look around to make sure nobody had heard her friend's outburst. She agreed, for sure, but she knew that the people from Charming would be less understanding, and she didn't want Donna to get in more trouble than she already was in.

"I'm so sorry Donna…"

"Don't be. Those are my choices, right? At one point, you decided to go, and part of me wants to give you a standing ovation for doing that. I was stupid. I stayed. And now I'm raising two kids on my own, with the help of my detestable mother in law, all the while trying to remember why I'm here, and why I have to do those things…."

"You love Opie", Tara said, with a sad smile, knowing exactly what it meant to love a Son. "And you wanted to be with him. You made that choice, and it's such a courageous choice too."

"A stupid one," Donna said, rolling her eyes.

"Let's say a debatable one," Tara offered. "However, you stood by your man, and you're still standing by your man. You're so brave…"

"I don't feel brave," Donna said, more tears pooling in her eyes. "I want to … I don't know. I haven't been to see Opie yet. I'm too pissed at him, for putting me in that position. Yes, I understand that being a Son is huge, but I thought I was something more important, and that even if I wasn't, our children were…. How could he let himself get caught up in all that, and leave us behind, for five fucking years? How does he dare assume that I will wait, that we will wait for him? I should leave him. Take my kids, and never come back, spare them the life they would have growing up in that environment…"

Tara wasn't sure what to say. She could hear so many of her own arguments for leaving in what Donna said, but she also knew that things were different. Donna and Opie had kids. When Tara had left, there had been no complication of that kind to take into account. It had been about her, selfishly, and the only persons suffering from the choices she made were Jax and her. She knew Donna was probably was just venting out, and Tara vowed to listen, but give no advice. She was not in Donna's shoes, and she didn't know what she would do if she had children to protect.

She hoped she would always put her children's safety first though. It was one of the reasons she had left, on top of wanting to be more than an Old Lady. She could see the life Jax had lived, and still lived, and she hadn't wanted that for their imaginary children.

She realized she had kept silent for too long, and Donna was looking at her.

"I'm sorry. I'm just thinking about your quandary. I hate that you're there and that you're so unhappy…"

"Lookie look what the cat brought in… Wendy was right." She heard on their left, and she would have recognized that voice anywhere.

Gemma Teller-Morrow was standing next to them, looking at them, and Tara was overwhelmed once again by memories, of despairing because Jax's mother hated her, and Jax loved her so much…

Tara felt Donna tense next to her, and it wasn't too hard to figure out what was happening. Someone must have seen them, and saw that Donna was crying. Maybe they even heard bits of their conversation. Gemma was called, to make sure that Donna was brought back on the right path, the path which meant she would wait for her husband faithfully, as people wanted her to. Nobody would hear her cry for help, or her frustrations. Maybe Gemma would, but she would turn things around, play the children card, and convince Donna to stay in Charming. After all, the Sons and their families looked after each other, whether it was for the best or not.

"Hello Gemma," Tara finally said.

She didn't offer an explanation of why she was there. Chances were Gemma had already been filled in. She didn't ask either who Wendy was, though she thought it likely that Wendy had been the girl on Jax's bike the other night. After all, she was with the Son the only one to have seen her. Tara just wished she knew her. It would have only been fair, no?

"Donna, come on, dear," Gemma said, putting her hand on Donna's shoulder, possessively. "Come and tell Gemma what's wrong. You don't need advice from a traitor."

She loathed herself for it, but the jibe hit Tara in the heart, and she wanted to cry or to defend herself.

She did nothing of that sort.

"It was so good seeing you again, Tara," Donna said. "I hope we see each other again soon… Don't be a stranger, ok? Keep in touch… You can find my number in the book…"

Tara smiled sweetly.

They both knew there would be no keeping in touch, like Gemma's dark stare wasn't proof enough. Tara was a "traitor", and Donna was a Son's wife. Even if they wanted to, they wouldn't be able to keep in touch. They would be from opposite side of that weird son-of-anarchy-esque spectrum, and for them to keep in touch, it would require so many efforts, more than they could probably provide and still go on with their lives.

Tara kept on smiling at Donna. She kissed her cheek, and hugged her, pushing away Gemma's hand.

"You're brave, Donna," Tara said, with a smile. "I think you may be the bravest person I've ever met. Don't ever change, okay?"

Donna's eyes filled with tears, understanding the hidden message, about standing her ground. Tara didn't know if the woman would be able to do so, but she just wanted her to know how much admiration she had for her. Donna was Tara in many ways, if she hadn't gone away (run away?).

Gemma helped Donna up and they went to the cafeteria. Gemma kept on throwing daggers at Tara over Donna's shoulders, and Tara didn't flinch. Some things never changed.

She went back to the intern's' office, her appetite gone.

She spent another day in the office, changing at the motel then driving back at the hospital where she slept. The articles had started pouring in, everybody wanting to share now that the exchange had started: the first papers were always the most difficult to get, and then it became easier, as people would offer their contribution in exchange for access to another article or publication. The interns had deserted the office, letting it for Tara and her mountains of paper lying around She wished she felt bad about robbing their space, but she didn't. Another couple of days and they would be getting it back. They were supposed to operate the next day in the evening.

She went to the cafeteria, taking advantage of the fact that it was breakfast time. She grabbed a couple of articles, for reading while she had something to eat.

When she arrived to the cafeteria, it was almost empty, almost being the key word.

Jax was there, sitting at a table, with a cup of coffee in front of him, and another on in his hand. There were scones on the table too, and some butter. He got up when he saw her come in, and smiled that smile that made her think of him as her Sunny boy.

He looked uncertain, but hopeful.

"We said we'd have coffee, remember?" He said breaking the silence. "Since you wouldn't come to me, I'm bringing it to you. Scones too."

There were so many things she felt, and others she should have, but she was too tired, or perhaps the gesture was too adorable. Damn that Sunny Boy and his Sunny smile. She gave him a small smile, and nodded.

His smile got even brighter, and he held out a chair for her to sit, which she did.

She had no idea what they were doing, but she loved it already.

A/N: Please Read and review!

A/N2: I was asked how Wendy would have been able to recognize Tara. I'm sure Jax must have kep pictures of the two of them somewhere, being who he is. Furthermore, I am sure the story of how Tara left Charming and Jax became a legend of some sort, so when Wendy, who was the croweater on the bike in the previous chapter so that brunette that rung a bell, she put two and two together, and reported what she had seen to Gemma.