Author's Note: Sorry it's been taking so long to get chapters out, school's kicking my ass and it's hard to get these chapters out and my assignments in. I'll try to get them out at a more frequent pace from now on. Enjoy!

Gear

It was crazy having Amanda back in the garage after all this time. It was even crazier to see her in the clubhouse, even if it was just to get stitched up. Gear knew it was hard for her being here, she kept glancing at Lachlan's mug shot on the back wall. Once or twice he thought about letting her into the "war room" as he liked to call it, but everyone else referred to is as church. He thought she might appreciate seeing where Lachlan sat, but decided against it when he got a closer look at her expression. She was trying to hold in her emotions, which made Gear both pissed off and very worried for her.

Once Chibs had her all stitched up, Gemma took her to the front office and had her do paperwork all day, which Gear knew must have sucked ass. Surprisingly, she was done within 30 minutes, filing it in an organized manner. Eventually Amanda was allowed to leave the office, and settled herself in the garage talking with Lowell, who blushed the entire time. That was how Amanda spent her day, talking with Lowell about his life, her life, and eventually about bikes and the proper way to fix them. Gear spent his day watching her from his post and trying to be inconspicuous about his eavesdropping.

Hale showed up an hour or so after she left the office. She had called him to let him know about her current situation and he said he could get her statement here at the clubhouse. Some of the members were not cool with Hale snooping around, Tig and Juice in particular, but Clay gave it the okay. Gear was okay with it too. Hale wasn't a bad guy, just a bit too idealistic for his own good. Gear understood that because he was the same way, or at least he was.

He and Amanda chatted at one of the tables by the clubhouse, and thankfully it wasn't a long conversation. It lasted a few minutes with Hale taking notes the entire time. Once they were done, he walked her back to the garage, glancing at all the members. He took a particularly long look at Gear, which both unnerved and confused him. Why was he suddenly singled out by the deputy? He figured he was about to find out when Hale changed direction and walked towards him with that self-righteous stride of his.

He glanced to see Amanda unaware of Hale's action as she sat down to talk to a blushing Lowell before Hale blocked his line of sight and said, "Where's Jax?"

"I don't know," Gear shrugged, setting down the wrench and grabbing the rag to wipe off the oil, "why do you ask?"

"It's about Amanda," he responded, glancing back to see her laughing with Lowell.

"What about her?"

"I need you guys to keep an eye on her."

"Why?"

"Are you going to or not?"

"Of course, now why are telling me to keep an eye on her?"

Hale didn't answer. He glanced back at Amanda before gesturing towards the office door where they would be out of her line of sight. Gear went willingly, suspicious yet curious in the same breath. He felt eyes on him as he walked with Hale, and he heard the distinct sound of a bike entering the compound when they stopped in front of the door.

"What's with all the secrecy?"

He sighed, "you know her friend, Bradley?"

"I've seen him, went camping with him once a few years ago. He was high as a kite and kept trying to jump my bones all night."

"Well, he was her partner until a couple hours ago when Darrow got him fired."

"What?!"

"Apparently, he's been stealing pain medication on the sly for a few months," Hale shrugged.

"Is it legit?"

"I'm looking into it. That woman is a piece of work. If there's any foul play, I'll sniff it out."

"Good," he sighed, "why are you telling me this?"

"Amanda's a good person. Bradley's not but she is, and she's been through all sorts of hell trying to do something with her life that's not involved with SAMCRO. I respect that, and I want to help her out, especially since she could have died from your bullets."

"Who said they were our bullets?" Gear responded in a calm tone, a tone that he knew Hale didn't miss.

Thankfully, the rider that arrived was Jax, and he chose the opportune time to make his presence known.

"What's going on here? A nice little pow wow between Deputy and outlaw?"

"It's about Amanda, Jax."

"What about her?" His amused tone quickly disappeared as Hale filled him in on Bradley's situation. "What do you want us to do?"

"Just keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't do anything that will force me to arrest her."

"Okay," Jax nodded, "thanks for reaching out."

"Don't get used to it, just trying to keep a good person out of trouble."

"I know, we appreciate it."

"Just remember this doesn't change anything, come tomorrow I'll get what I need to bring you guys down."

"Until tomorrow then," Gear walked past him, wearing a smirk on his face to hide the anger and fear welling up inside of him. It was his worst fear come true, the nightmare that floated to his eyes every time he thought about the burned girls. He thought she would be safe away from him, from this life, but even with all the distance she put between herself and SAMCRO she was still caught in the crossfire.

For the next hour or so Gear pondered what to do about this, about Amanda. When he wasn't watching her like a hawk, seething at her smile as she talked with Lowell about bikes, he tried to banish the awful thoughts that plagued his mind concerning her. All he wanted was for her to be safe, to be happy, to bask in the sun as it's light caressed her golden head and kissed her scarred skin, to smile without a care in the world, to not think about the tragedies of her past and just exist. He even wanted her to find someone that would cherish her with every fiber of their being like he did. There was a part of him that doubted anyone ever could, but if there was, he'd let her go with them if she chose.

Despite his efforts, Gear lost his battle of reigning in his temper when the thoughts of her dead with blood coating the ground around her slain body, her gray eyes dead to the world as a fly landed on her pupil, starting to sink in when his fist suddenly punched the wall next to him. He released a breath as his other fist attempted to do the same before, he stopped himself, his blunt nails digging into his palm as he turned away, taking deep breaths.

At some point during his fight with his thoughts, Gear must have wandered away from the garage because he now found himself in the alley behind the clubhouse, completely out of sight from everyone as the sun from high above beat down on him, blinding him as he looked up. He collapsed against the wall, sliding down the hot metal to sit on the burning gravel. He didn't mind the pain, it helped distract him from his inner turmoil. What was he going to do? What could he do?

"Hey," came a soft voice.

Gear looked up and quickly looked away at the sight of Amanda. Shame hit him in the chest. How stupid he must have looked sitting on the ground, losing his temper and punching a wall like his Dad used to. He hated himself for his loss of control. He didn't want to be like Michael, ever, and pulling this type of shit was the last thing he should be doing.

"I'm sorry," he groveled, staring at the gravel like a pathetic moron.

She didn't say anything, and for a second Gear convinced himself that she wasn't really there, just a torturous device his brain conjured up for his behavior. Instead, Amanda kneeled in front of him, and grabbed his hand. Shockwaves riddled his body when her skin touched his, and Gear's fantasies flooded his mind until, "You're going to want to clean that."

He looked at the hand she was holding and groaned at the sight of wet blood, dirt, and leftover oil covering the back of his hand.

"Looks like I'm not the only one getting patched up today," Amanda smirked, and Gear snorted, "at least you won't need any stitches."

"Good, I'm not in the mood to have someone poking me with needles today. Those fuckers suck," he grumbled as Amanda inspected his wound.

"Don't I know it." Her thumb touched his wound, testing to see how bad it was, "did Hale tell you about Bradley?"

He looked at her carefully, "yeah."

"Brad called the shop while you guys were talking," she shrugged with her good shoulder, still looking at his hand.

He nodded, "what are you going to do?"

"Who's asking? You, or Hale?" She started to pull away, but his hand rushed forward to gently grab her wrist.

"Both," and their eyes met then, and it was like looking into one of those sunsets Ponyboy described in that book, like she described only last night. Those big green eyes studied him as his thumb caressed the soft skin of her wrist, right where the vein slightly protruded, and her pulse was beating rapidly. The rapid speed meant one of two things, fear or lust. Normally Gear would happily jump on the lust train and dance with joy, but the way her eyes studied his face put a halt to his ever-present fantasies.

"I'm not sure," she whispered, loud enough so only Gear could hear.

He took a breath, "did Bradley do it?" He braced himself for her wrath at such a question, remembering her reaction to someone mocking him about his Dad when they were still in school. She grabbed the poor kid by his stringy hair and slammed him face first into the table with insults of her own. His parents had to take him to the hospital to get his jaw fixed, couldn't talk for like a month. She got suspended for a week and spent her weekends in detention until Christmas break, which Gear spent right alongside her with a smile on his face. Her reaction now surprised him.

"I don't know," she sighed, her eyes straying from his face, shaking her head, "Brad's had trouble with drugs in the past, you know that."

"Are you referring to the time he was high as a kite and tried to grope me on that camping trip a few years ago? The one where you ended up sharing a tent with me, so we didn't have to add rape to our list of morning regrets?"

"Or bring the trip to a screeching halt for an emergency room visit?"

"I wouldn't have hurt him that bad." Gear snorted, wanting her to look at him.

"I would have," Amanda smirked, eyes meeting his once more before the smirk quickly disappeared, blinking rapidly as the gravel suddenly caught her attention.

"You always did have a temper," Gear smiled, his thumb continuing to stroke her wrist, which she surprisingly allowed.

"Only with idiots who don't understand boundaries," she growled, staring down the alleyway as the full force of the sun hit her face. All she needed were wings and a halo, and she'd be the angel of his dreams. "Anyway, Brad's mostly kept away from that shit since his accident earlier this year."

"What happened?"

"He was totally methed out. He had just used up the last of his shit and went to score some more before the high went away. One thing led to another and he-" Amanda paused, biting her lip. Her expression was surprised, like she shocked herself by unveiling this information so willingly.

"He what?" Gear urged, his stare intense, fearing the worst.

She sighed, cursing under her breath before saying "Remember that accident earlier this year? The one where someone drove into the school building when the kids were being let out?"

"Yeah, couldn't walk outside without hearing about it. Unser got us involved after someone set the car on fire in the impound lot. Of course, we never did find-" his eyes popped open, "are you saying what I think you're saying?"

She grimaced, "he called me from the supply closet in the gym and told me what happened. Me and the guys got him out before the cops could find him."

"Jesus Amanda, he could have killed a classroom full of kids!"

"I know, and more importantly he knows that too." She turned to face him full on, weakly pulling her hand out of his grasp, but he held on tightly.

"You are the epitome of a Guardian Angel when kids are involved, why the fuck would you help a junkie when he almost killed dozens of them?!"

"He didn't though." When he looked incredulously at her, she sighed again. "When he told me, what happened I reacted the same way as you are right now. I was pissed beyond belief and worried for those kids, but he told me that he didn't hit anyone. Even drugged out of his mind he doesn't miss anything. So, after taking a breather I made him a deal. If any of those kids were hurt because of what he did, Hale and his officers would be opening the supply door and taking him to prison where he'll be buttfucked for the rest of his life. If they weren't, we would get him out and straight into rehab."

"You-" Gear almost choked on his words, "How did you even get him out of there?"

"Justin and Grady were already there pulling a double shift, so I called them up to get details. When they confirmed Brad didn't kill or hurt any of the kids, I had them distract Hale and the force, so I could slip in and get him out."

"You just snuck in and got him out?" Gear grated through his teeth, "what about the car?"

"Same thing. The guy at the front gate is a huge perv so I distracted him while Justin snuck in and destroyed any evidence Bradley left behind. Once he was done Grady came in and pretended to be a jealous douchebag while I swiped the security footage so that we were never there."

All sorts of thoughts raced through his mind as his thumb continued to caress the inside of her soft wrist, particularly the thought of Amanda seducing another man and how she would look if she were to seduce him. He shook his head. "What were you thinking? Even if he didn't hurt those kids he doesn't fucking deserve-"

"I'm not losing anyone else!" Amanda's raised voice had stunned him, but it was her surprising declaration that chilled him to the core as she quickly continued, "look I know I fucked up, but he's better now, Justin and I have made sure of that. We've been keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn't slip." She stopped suddenly, averting his eyes, "Fuck, I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this."

She stood suddenly, and Gear quickly followed, refusing to let go of her wrist. Once on his feet he didn't think, only acted as he abruptly pulled her into his arms. His free hand pressed into the small of her back and his forehead touched hers. She felt so good, so warm in his embrace that it took all his self-restraint to not move further into more tempting territories.

"What are you doing?" She weakly struggled in his arms, hampered by her injured shoulder.

"You never lost me," he said intensely, his grip on her wrist unyielding as he pulled away to look her in the eyes, "and you never will."

Her green eyes went wide as she stared at him, and she opened her those beautiful lips to respond when there someone loudly cleared their throat.

They pulled apart to see Gemma. Her stiff demeanor contrasted wildly with her pleased expression as she walked over to the pair with the sharp click of her heels sounding away on the pavement.

"Jax is asking for you," Gemma said, arms crossed as she stopped in front of the pair, "he needs you for something."

"Okay," he reluctantly released Amanda, but not before he gave one last squeeze to her wrist, his fingers trailing behind him as he walked away. When he turned the corner, he glanced back to see Amanda rolling her eyes at Gemma, her normal attitude back as her eyes met his. He stumbled at the sight of those green eyes, wanting her back in his arms.

His feet might have carried him out of sight, but his mind stayed with her and the plaguing thoughts of what she was going to say before Gemma's untimely arrival. He doubted it was her declaration of undying love that would stop his heart and send him to heaven despite his foolish hopes. In fact, he doubted anything that resembled any for form of positive response. His best guess was along the lines of either too stunned to speak, or something angry quickly followed by a right hook. He would have taken the punch whether she was injured or not.

He didn't look where he was going, too lost in his thoughts of her to pay much attention to his surroundings. In fact, he only found Jax when he literally ran into him, their heads bumping together with a huge thud.

"Shit, sorry Jax."

"You okay, bro?"

"Yeah, just distracted."

"Be surprised if you weren't," Jax laughed, swinging an arm across Gear's shoulders, "how is she doing?"

"Aside from racking up another war wound she's the same old Amanda."

"Yeah, I heard about that, what happened?"

Gear took a deep breath, "I told everyone she fell on a bottle and broke it, but really she cut herself on my window this morning." Gear stopped, turning to look Jax in the eye, "She woke up screaming her head off. I found her busting out my window with her elbow, looking like she was in Jigsaw's torture chamber instead of my bedroom. I had to fucking throw her to the floor just to snap her to her senses." His voice started choking up, and he looked around frantically to make sure no one was listening. "She looked so fucking scared, Jax."

Jax's eyes widened, his brow furrowed with worry. He took Gear by the shoulder and pulled him aside to the main office, taking a quick peek before saying, "No one else knows?"

"No, I couldn't do that to Amanda, but I can't just keep this to myself either. With the warehouse, her getting caught crossfire, how close she came to dying because of us…." he took a breath, "Jax what do I do? How do I do this"

"Not alone," Jax said with an intense authority, "and not right now. Right now, we need to keep our focus on the Mayans. They're the ones behind the explosion and what almost happened to Amanda." He paused, "remember what you were asking yesterday? Wondering how we didn't see this coming? It's because we've been too comfortable, to relaxed, so we must step our game up. We have to show them that they can't just fuck with us without some blowback. We have to give it back to them, you understand?"

"They blew up our warehouse…" Gear pondered, "So now we blow up theirs?"

Jax squeezed his shoulder, "Yeah brother, that's what we're going to do. Juice got the schematics and location of the warehouse we're going to hit tonight, and we need you with us."

"Is that why you talked to Opie yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't he leaning right though?"

"Doesn't matter, Clay wants him there, so he's got to be there." His eyes grew sad at the statement, and Gear knew what he was feeling. If things were different, and Jax was the one trying to lean right and earn straight, Gear would have that same look in his eyes. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"When are we leaving?"

"When we close up," Jax looked behind Gear, "Gemma will keep an eye on Amanda until we're done."

"What about afterwards? You want me to take her back to my place?"

"Nah, stay at her place tonight. Take a look around and let us know if you find anything suspicious."

"Alright," Gear answered tiredly. Jax squeezed his shoulder again before stepping away, pulling a cigarette out of his cut. "You want one?"

"Pass," Gear shook his head, looking around the lot. "Why do you guys want me to look threw her stuff so badly?"

"Trammell called back with some info about an hour ago. The area around the warehouse was loaded with cowboy boot tracks, Mayans signature," Jax paused to take a drag from his cigarette, "but when they checked the area where Amanda's shooter must have been, they found a bunch of different tracks."

"What kind of tracks?"

"Tire tracks belonging to a truck, most likely older in style, and two pairs of footprints, military grade, no cowboy tracks."

"Someone else tried to kill her?"

"Looks like it. Doesn't make too much sense to hire someone to kill her when you're already blowing up a warehouse."

"Unless they didn't count on her being a paramedic who might respond to the call?" Gear's fists were clenching furiously, his teeth gnawing.

"Possibly, but in any case, there's a third party at play here and we need to keep our bases covered. That means keeping an eye on her and finding out what else she's been hiding that might have caused someone to try to kill her."

His eyes searched for her unconsciously after Jax's information, and sure enough they found her before he had a chance to stop them. Gemma walked with her towards the set of tables next to the clubhouse with a gentle arm wrapped around her waist. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line, her brow furrowed as the pair walked in sync. Whatever conversation they were having, Gear could tell Amanda was very uncomfortable with it. His body moved of its own accord, and if Jax hadn't reached out to stop him, he felt he would have catapulted himself between them, assuming the role of a stone barrier protecting her from anything and everyone, including Gemma.

"Give it a few minutes. She'll be done soon." He patted the back of his cut, "stay cool, brother. We'll protect her." Jax swaggered away towards the clubhouse, sending a little wave towards the two ladies. Gemma didn't see him, but Amanda did, and she returned his wave with a jerk of her head, refusing to look at Gemma.

Gear acquiesced to Jax's request and gave the pair time to finish up their conversation. It was hard to sit back, and watch Amanda become more and more restless as she talked with Gemma. Her fingers either drummed on the wooden panels or rubbed together furiously, the heels of her feet bouncing up and down in place from her sitting position on the bench. She always kept eye contact, an intense, narrowed stare full of suspicion but eye contact all the same. The more he stared the more his body mimicked her tics, particularly rubbing his fingers together like he had coins between them.

When the indention in her forehead became more pronounced, and her intense stare became an angry glare, Gear knew it was time to step in. He hurried over to the pair, trying not to listen to Amanda's words yet failing to block out her smooth, velvety voice.

"For the last time, Gear's not staying at my place tonight. In fact, no one from this club will ever stay the night in my apartment. Is that clear?"

"It doesn't matter what you say, or how you feel about this, it's done. Gear's staying with you and that's final. Clay's orders."

"Fuck his orders!" Amanda grated as she stood to her feet, "I'm not part of this club!"

"This is for your own good-"

"What? Having someone pretend to give two shits about my safety when really, it's an excuse to go through my shit and find out what else I might be hiding from your dickheads? Sounds more along the lines of invasion of privacy and breaking and entering." She suddenly pointed at Gear, who at this point was only steps away from the pair, "and just because you send him doesn't change that fact." She turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Gemma's heels thudded rampantly against the pavement as she raced to catch up with a fleeing Amanda. Gear reached out, grabbed Amanda's good arm, and pulled her to a stop.

"For fuck's sake," she complained, wincing slightly as she instinctually moved her shoulder. A pang burst through his chest, but it didn't stop him from pulling her back towards him, her chest gently bumping his.

"Gemma, would you mind giving us a moment alone? Please?" His breath was ragged, but his voice came out clear. He quickly glanced to see Gemma nodding slightly to him before giving Amanda one last glare. Gemma headed back towards the office while he carted Amanda back over to the tables. Once there she glared at him, and he stared back stubbornly, gesturing to the seat with his free hand until she sat down. Instead of taking the bench opposite her, he straddled the bench to sit next to her, and held her good hand.

"I know you hate this, having everyone make choices about your life and safety without consulting you and then expecting you to do it without complaint. I get it, and I'm sorry it's happening but you must know that we're only doing this because we care about you. If we didn't care, we wouldn't get involved."

"Sorting through my shit? That's how you guys show you care?"

"We're doing that because there's a chance that the Mayans had nothing to do with your shooting." Gear said before he could stop himself, he contemplated taking it back, but his statement caught her attention.

"What do you mean the Mayans-"

"Trammell and his men searched the area where the shooter must have been and didn't find cowboy boot tracks. What they found were two sets of footprints matching military grade boots."

"Military grade? Like army douchebags or something?"

"Or something," He roughly rubbed the back of his neck, "the point is there's a third player, and we don't know who it is. I don't know who it is and that puts us at a disadvantage. It could be some weird decision from the Mayans, a rogue asshole trying to make a name for himself, it could be a hit for all we know, and we don't have the faintest idea of where to start looking if it wasn't the Mayans." He took a deep breath to calm himself, looking deep into her wide, green eyes as he continued, "The point here is that we need to find out the three W's."

"What happened, who did it, and why did they do it?" Amanda interrupted with a strained voice.

"Yeah, and since we don't have many places to look-"

"And I came clean about hiding my career from you guys?"

"Makes it even more important to see what else you've been hiding," Gear let out a deep breath, "would you really have never told me?"

Amanda didn't miss a beat, exhaling in defeat as she looked away from him, "I don't know, Peter. It's been a really shitty few years."

"More like a shitty life if you add it all up," he grumbled, gently squeezing her hand. She glanced at them, and surprisingly didn't pull away.

"Yeah, I guess."

She didn't continue, and Gear debated on what to do when said, "What time will you guys be back?"

He momentarily looked at her stunned, "I don't know. Probably not until early morning."

She sighed before turning to look at him full on, "I'll let you come over, if you guys let me go home now."

"That's not up to me."

"Then go find Jax and ask for his blessing while I give Gemma the same deal. Fuck, I'll even add Bradley's shit to the mix." She abruptly stood from the bench, only to be pulled back down as gingerly as possible.

"Why do you hate this place? You used to love it."

"I don't hate this place, I just hate sitting around and not doing anything like a chump." She groaned, glancing at the garage, "I tried to convince Lowell to let me help work on the engines, almost had him too if Brad hadn't called. Clay got to him while I was on the phone and when I made it back, he clammed up and could barely form two-word sentences to me."

"Yeah, Clay can be a bit intimidating when he wants to be."

"Oh, I know, remember in eighth grade when Coach Henderson was being a total ass and made us run laps around the school because we showed up late for practice?"

"Was that when he was training both the girls and guys basketball teams-"

"At the same time because Coach Casey was in a car accident and out for a month." Amanda interrupted with a smile.

"Yeah, and he already didn't like me because he favored the rich kids and I called him out on it."

"He didn't care for me either but that's because I lived with low life's and depraved criminals."

"Yeah, Clay certainly showed him." The pair laughed as they reminisced about Clay striding across the school parking lot with Tig and Bobby at his side. The look in his eyes was enough to make anyone stiff with fear, especially after yelling insults at the top of his lungs about being children of drunken criminals who were better off dead, then threatening to have them suspended for misconduct when said children fought back with insults of their own. Amanda had grabbed a rock and threw it at him when he started talking about her Dad. Coach Henderson reacted very poorly when that rock him in the head. He strode over, knocking Gear to the ground with a firm shove before grabbing hold of Amanda's flailing arms.

Clay saw the whole thing, showing up early to free them from practice early when it happened. Bobby corralled Gear and Amanda and took them away from the scene as Tig and Clay took Coach Henderson out of sight. He wasn't seen again for a few days, and both were convinced they offed the poor, bigoted dude when he suddenly showed up a few days later sporting a cast on his right hand and a fresh batch of bruises coloring his swollen face.

"I wonder if your boss and Henderson know each other?" Gear mused, unconsciously squeezing her hand as he studied her face.

She smiled, "that would make sense," suddenly she frowned, "I don't want to stay here, Peter."

He braced himself, "you can't avoid him forever, Manny. You'll have to face this pain eventually."

Her eyes met his then. A range of emotions flooded through the sea of emerald green as her jaw clenched and body froze. Before she had the chance to recover, he unwisely reached out and placed his calloused hand on the back of her neck, squeezing gingerly. His eyes never wavered as his voice shook.

"The longer you avoid the pain, the more it will eat you alive." Recognition flashed across her face as he continued, "you told me that, remember?"

She didn't respond. A muscle flickered in her jaw and he knew she was shutting down, fast. He knew when he saw her in the clubhouse that she hadn't dealt with her pain, merely avoided it. He knew he should force her to face it, the same way she forced him to deal with Michael's 5-year sentence in prison after nearly killing him for the fourth time.

Clay and Unser broke the news to him while he and Amanda were playing cards with Opie and Jax. Opie was winning. The dude had a surprisingly great poker face when it came to cards but cracked immensely when they heard the news. When Gear heard the news, he wanted to lash out, to break everything in sight. Michael kept getting off easy because of one bullshit mistake after another, and it almost broke Gear's last nerve. Almost. If there was one thing more powerful than his boiling fury, it was his stubborn promise to never be like him. Ever.

Instead of doing what he wanted, which is walk off and start breaking shit, he turned back towards Opie and Jax, "Who's folding?"

They looked at him shocked before glancing at their cards with a shake of their heads, acquiescing to his unspoken request. Amanda on the other hand was having none of that. Her response to his willful ignorance was pulling on the collar of his jacket until he looked at her, and then slapping him in the face. That's when she said those words, and her fury at his ignorance broke something in Gear that day. It broke his resolve, his stubborn hold on that naive promise he made to himself out of a childish fit of anger. In that moment he got up and did what he wanted, and the Sons gave him free reign to do so without complaint.

Her fury then rivaled his worry for her denial now. This wasn't Amanda, at least not the Amanda he knew. The last few years they've spent apart, isolating herself from the club did something to her. What it was he couldn't tell, but it had to be dealt with. The only question was when? Would it be better to push her now, like the way she pushed him then, and hope she snapped out of it like he did? Or was it better to wait it out, let her do it on her own time, her own terms, and hope she sees through it? Gear wasn't sure what the best choice was, but with a sigh he squeezed her neck gently before releasing her.

"I'll talk to Jax, see where he lands on it, but you have to promise me something."

The tension seemed to fade slightly from her jaw, "What?"

He wanted with all the world to say pull your head out of your ass and marry me woman, or run away to San Francisco with me, but instead he looked deep into her eyes, holding her free hand gently with both of his, "Promise me you'll start coming by more often, even after we figure this shit out with the Mayans. I don't mean dropping off friends to get their cars fixed or hide out from philandering douchebags, I mean stop by and come see us. We miss the shit out of you, Manny." He found himself pausing, swallowing nervously, "I miss you."

She didn't respond at first, her beautiful eyes studying him with careful scrutiny. Whatever she was looking for she didn't appear to have found because she sighed slightly, glancing away from his face briefly. "Can I work on the bikes?"

She said so softly, so timidly that he didn't quite catch it, "What?"

"If I decide to come around more often, can I work on the bikes, or whatever comes in?" She winced slightly as she attempted to shrug.

There was a slight pang in his chest that she didn't appear to reciprocate his unspoken, or perhaps spoken, feelings but it was squashed quickly when she slightly squeezed his hand. He kept his eyes locked on her face, not wanting to ruin the tiny gesture only to find out it was an accidental movement on her part.

The corner of his mouth perked slightly, "I can't promise everyone else's but I'll let you work on mine when things calm down. Deal?"

Her lips pursed slightly in concentration before she nodded, "Okay, deal."

He brought her hand to his lips, loving how impossibly went as he gently kissed the back of her hand.

"Stay here," he stood from the bench, grasping her good shoulder and letting his fingers trail behind him as he walked away. When he glanced back, she was staring at the ground with a look that made her seem like she just made a deal with the devil.

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