A/N: So...it's been forever since I updated this, and I sincerely apologize to everyone. Between moving back in and getting back into a routine for summer, I've been much busier than I thought. But never fear! I've just come up with a rather devious and exciting twist for this story, so I'm driven to get myself at least to that point in the near future (while I'm still inspired and driven to write, write, write). In an attempt to make up for my awful updating, I've made this one a smidgen longer.
Thanks also to all the lovely readers who have reviewed so kindly, and added this story to their favorites and alert lists. It means the world to me. (:
When Kaya next saw Tig it was for business. As she drove her dusty, beat up old black pick up into town and to Teller Morrow Auto Repair, the woman realized it was the first time she'd shown up in Tig's space. Every other time they'd run into one another, he'd come unexpected and uninvited into her personal space, usually ruining whatever plans she had for the day. That morning, however, was different. Truck loaded with ammunition and whatever weapons the Res could spare, the young woman was making a run to bring the Sons some apparently much needed relief. She'd heard through the grapevine that their Irish pipeline was in jeopardy, if not permanently ruined, and so she'd decided to throw in some extra ammo and arms for free—a gesture of good will as far as she was concerned. Having the Sons of Anarchy on her side, after all, wasn't something that Kaya was stupid enough to turn down. Even if it meant working her ass off twice as hard.
Pulling into the lot, she ignored the looks that she and her car got as she dropped to the pavement. People like her didn't often hang around town, and certainly didn't come knocking when they needed car repairs. Not to mention that her truck was one long drive shy of collapsing beneath her. If the car and the color of her skin weren't odd enough, she was likely the only woman in the area not bearing as much skin as possible…the kids aside. It didn't escape her attention that the place was locked up tighter than a convent, or that there were clearly several families hanging around. Obviously whatever shit the Sons were in was more serious than she'd originally thought.
"Kaya?"
The woman didn't make much inclination that she'd heard Tig call her name until she'd taken a few steps towards the back of her truck. Taking her time, she opened the hatch up and looked over the boxes and duffels in the bed of the truck before acknowledging Tig.
"Get your ass over here and help a lady," she said, voice languid though her words were clearly not a suggestion.
"What?" he questioned, walking over to her anyways, eyeing the contents of her truck.
"Grab those boxes and show me where you hold Chapel. I got a Christmas present for you," she said, flashing him a quick, mischievous smile.
If her orders had irritated the Sergeant-at-Arms at all, he didn't make it apparent. Tig called over the prospect she'd met earlier, getting a few of the other men to unload the boxes of bullets. Once the bed was empty, save the three duffels that Kaya was holding on to, she and Tig made their way into the clubhouse that was so conveniently close. Apparently Tig was in the minority—most everyone appeared to have been expecting the tan woman to show up, though maybe with some help or backup muscle. When she was led to the Chapel, Tig glanced at her, obviously trying to say something.
"Right, members only, my bad," she said, saving him the weird moment of having to say no. Something was obviously brewing, and Kaya was more than a little eager to just drop off the rest of the goods and get back to the Res.
"So, I hear someone's got a Christmas present for me."
Clay had always been slightly intimidating to Kaya, if only for the fact that he towered over her and was easily twice her size. Even now, when they had a clear cut alliance, he still made her slightly uneasy. There was something in the way he looked at her, like he didn't quite trust her to do what she said. Either way, she had a gift that would hopefully get rid of some of that suspicion, and she nodded with a confident grin.
"You'll find an extra box of ammo for your side arms," she said, dropping her duffels onto the nearest clear table, sliding them towards Clay, "And I brought you this."
When he unzipped the first duffel, he just stared for a moment, before letting out a loud laugh.
"Little birdie told you, eh?" he questioned, Kaya smirking, "Something like that."
"You're a little late, just patched shit up with our Irish dealer," he said, Kaya just nodding with a shrug.
"Then that's three bags of guns you didn't have before. And with the security around here, I'd say it can't hurt," she pointed out, Clay nodding.
"We're still short until everything kicks in again, which should be soon, but still—I appreciate it."
Kaya nodded, "And I appreciate the business, it's mutually beneficial," she replied, glancing around the place, "I'll get out of your way once the prospect finishes unloading the rest of the ammo."
"Appreciate it," Clay replied with a nod.
"I'll see her out," Tig muttered, both Kaya and Clay arching eyebrows at the Sergeant but neither questioning him.
The two got to her truck just as the prospect finished unloading the last crate of ammo. For a moment, Kaya stood outside the driver's door, staring Tig down. When he made no move to do anything but look her over, she rolled her eyes and opened the door, "Best of luck with Zobelle," she said, moving to get into her truck. Before she got far a hand gripped her forearm, pulling her back down. Turning to look at Tig, she wasn't surprised to see him grinning at him. Honestly, the more time she spent around him, the more she wondered if all the talk of him being crazy was more than just empty gossip.
"Decided whether or not you're gonna let me sleep over again?" he questioned, Kaya smirking at him and shaking her head. Of course that was what he wanted to know after not speaking to her for a good handful of days—whether or not he got to sleep over again. Honestly, was this grade school?
"Haven't shown your ugly face in my house again, so I can't decide whether I'll let you invade my personal space again or just shoot you."
"Don't know about that…sounds like some of those odds aren't all together too nice," he mused, smirking at her.
"Guess you'll just have to roll the dice and see how it comes out. Prepare for the worst, pray for the best," she replied, smirking.
"Sounds like an invitation to come over again to me…you inviting me to your house, Kaya?" he replied, grinning again like the half crazed madman he was.
"Open to interpretation I suppose. Try not to do anything too stupid while I'm away, asshole."
Wrenching her arm free of Tig's grip, Kaya hopped into her seat and closed the door, heading off before Tig could change his mind and talk her to death. Kaya's ride home was peaceful, and the rest of her day was uncharacteristically calm. None of the boys were up to any shenanigans, and work continued as though they hadn't all been working overtime to get the Sons shipment out.
By three in the afternoon the next day all the orders for the Res police were completed and Kaya had sent Ashkii to make the delivery. Tired from all the frantic working to fill the Sons order, and ready to take it easy, the young woman gave everyone else the day off. Grateful, they all headed home to hopefully get some much needed R&R. After an extra hour spent cleaning up the trailer and getting everything organized for work the next day Kaya headed back home, eager to have dinner and just take it easy the rest of the day.
Once she'd arrived home her desire to make food for herself was waning in favor of watching a movie and going to bed early. Thankfully, after some poking around in her fridge, she found some leftover lasagna from earlier in the week. Smelling it to make sure it hadn't turned during her hectic week, she tossed it into the microwave to reheat before heading to her bedroom to get changed into sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Reemerging into her kitchen she grabbed her lasagna, a fork and a bottle of beer and headed to her couch. An hour later, and mostly through Shutter Island, the roar of a motor caught Kaya's attention. She stayed where she was on the couch, waiting for it to pass, but when it didn't she was forced to pause the movie. There were only two people who would dare bother her right then—Ashkii with some business to talk to her about, or Tig. The knock on the door forced her up off the couch and she begrudgingly went to the door. She really had just wanted to spend one night of her life relaxing on her own without interference.
Opening the door, she wasn't surprised to see Tig in the doorway grinning at her. What she was surprised to see, or at least somewhat surprised, was that his face was littered with cuts and half formed bruises. Frowning at him, she moved to let him into her house.
"Hey baby, what're you up to?" he chimed, Kaya rolling her eyes.
"Wondering what the hell happened to your face. Cut yourself shaving?" she deadpanned, one brow arched. Tig just laughed and shook his head.
"That's not very nice of you to say. I, uh, had an exchange with some of Zobelle's men," he replied, Kaya rolling her eyes and pointing at the stool at the breakfast bar.
"Sit down. That's a shoddy patch job at best. Honestly, for all the fighting you do I'm surprised you can't clean yourself up better," she said, disappearing into the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kid. Pulling out some Neosporin and an assortment of bandages, she worked over the cuts on his face and knuckles, Tig sitting surprisingly still and silent until she was done.
"Kaya, the big bad arms dealer from the Res, patching me up like some mama bear?" he said quietly, clearly teasing her. Rolling her eyes again, Kaya packed the kit up again and headed to the bathroom without a response. Tig was, without a doubt, the most irritating man she'd ever met in her life—business partner or otherwise. Still, she supposed he was decent company.
