A/N: Big thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/fave'd on the last chapter. I had intended to post this a lot sooner but real life has a very nasty habit of getting between me and writing. I was unhappy a few parts of this chapter so it needed a bit of a rewrite, hence the delay/chapter split. It's a little bit "Leni-centric" in parts but in chapter ten there will be a game changer which sees a lot of Tig action, so if you're still down for the ride - please let me know!

Also, I totally forgot that I said I'd answer some questions in the last update. So at the end of this chapter, there is the Q&A I promised. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•
Stop And Say You Love Me by Evans Blue

Slip Out The Back by Fort Minor
Slip out the back before they know you were there
And at the worst you'll see nobody cares
'Cos you don't wanna be around when it all goes down
Even heroes know when to be scared
•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

Wicked Games || Chapter Nine || Reaper For A Day

Knowing the route to Concord well enough to avoid concentrating, Tig spent most of the journey with his eyes on Leni via the rear-view mirror. Juice was in the passenger seat, yapping about something to her and Half-Sack who were riding in the back. He had no idea what they were talking about, he couldn't tune in to their voices; too lost in his own thoughts but she was laughing and smiling.

It seemed wrong for her to be so relaxed with what she was about to do; but there she was, giggling away in that blond wig. Wearing the cleverly crafted fake scar and those black framed glasses, that changed her face so much and gave her something to hide behind. Seeing her in the disguise she wore, made it seem as if she might actually pull it all off, but he wouldn't believe it until they saw a death certificate and statement from the cop on watch.

Damn! He wanted to fuck her! She looked so darkly at ease. The way she tipped her head back to laugh that dirty laugh of hers. The way she was sitting in the back seat with one leg folded under her butt while she hugged her other knee to her chest. She looked like they were on a road trip to the beach, not on route to commit capital murder. It seemed almost callous for her to look so relaxed and unsurprisingly, that made him want her more.

It showed she was capable of dark things and the devil inside him was aroused. He'd never met a woman who'd done the same things as him before. He knew plenty of skanks who liked to cat fight and would stab someone in the head with a stiletto if they were pushed, but he'd never met a woman who killed for sense of duty more than survival. He'd certainly never met a woman who appeared to be so indifferent about it.

However, the longer he stared at her - the more he started to noticed cracks in her façade. His eyes caught on her hands and something which gave her away - a tell. She was still laughing and chatting so no one would have though to question her confidence, but suddenly he could see through it.

She was giving herself away to his keen eyes. Tapping her fingers against her leg; in an odd pattern. Five pats from the left ring finger then another five from her index, before tapping all five tips against her leg four times and repeating it all over again from the start. Some kind of weird OCD type "tick". A subtle way for her anxiety to escape. A tiny crack in the mask she wore; revealing the true vulnerability behind it.

Silently shocked by what he saw, he realized that she was in fact really nervous and his heart clenched for her. Seeing something in her behavior that he was familiar with inside himself. He was a past-master at fooling people around him into thinking he was okay; that he was cold and unaffected by the pain and damage he caused and saw all around him. He was the man everyone went to when death or cruelty was required and he was proud of his reputation but it scarred him inside.

The goodness in him screamed, demanding that he stop the car and put an end to it all. To protect her from having to do such a sinister duty for his club. Yelling at him, trying to make him understand that there was a connection between them. A way that they could be so much more to each other than the enemies they seemed to be; but he didn't want to hear it. She was evil -a temptress- the devil in disguise.

So what if she was nervous? He would be too! Hell, Charles Manson was probably nervous on his way to commit murder, didn't make him worthy of sympathy - did it? Fuck her!

He clamped down his misgivings and tried hard to make himself believe he didn't give a shit and wanted nothing from her; other than what was between her legs. Fuck her brains out, make her respect the man he was and kick her ass back to Sacramento. Yeah! That's what he was going to do!

He didn't give a shit if she was worried or hurting; why should he care? She offered to do the job, no one asked her to. He wasn't the type of man who rescued someone from themselves. Especially some bitch who walked around like she was the bravest and craziest bitch since Joan of Arc.

She showed him no compassion or understanding; so why should he do her the courtesy? She'd chosen to put herself on that path, offered to do SAMCRO's dirty work. If she couldn't go through with it, her failure would only serve to prove Tig's point about her. It would show that she was weak, and that she couldn't be trusted. Then she would be out of his life and gone from his club. Which would allow him to his mind off her and go back to how things were before she showed up and took over. 'That's what you want right?' The voice in his head asked mockingly, but the answer wasn't as clear as he hoped.

•••••••••••••••••••

On arriving in Concord it took just a few minutes to navigate the streets and find the right spot to let Juice out. He had plotted it all out with Leni, via an online mapping program. Choosing a spot near a main road, just north of the hospital. A place where he could duck through a patch of wasteland and keep watch on the orchestrated events in the car park from a safe distance away.

Once Juice was out of the car, Half-Sack instructed Tig to take certain roads that lead to a service alley, half a block from the hospital where they would let Leni out, and pick him up later. As Tig pulled to a stop, a nervous Half-Sack wished Leni luck. She thanked him with a smile as she finished checking the make-up on her tattoos and scar before slipping off the hoodie she wore a switching it for a lab-coat and fixing the fake ID badge.

Tig didn't acknowledge her; he had nothing to say. He just watched in the rear-view as she readied herself, until their gaze locked in the reflection of the rear-view mirror. He was floored by what he saw in her eyes - apprehension, anger, excitement, cruel intent. But strongest of all, he saw fear.

His mouth opened to speak but before he could find words, she had slipped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Taking off down the alleyway to where danger and darkness were waiting.

As he watched her disappear and he felt worry tightening his stomach. Why the hell he wanted to stop her - he didn't know. She was a devious, cold bitch. The one who'd cooked up the whole elaborate plan. The one who had stood up claiming no qualms in killing someone - but then he wasn't any different.

She was doing something to help protect SAMCRO -regardless of her motives- she was doing his job. Wiping away the last of a smudge that tarnished the reaper. Completing a job that had been left half-finished; helping to defuse the bomb that threatened to explode and take out all that he held dear. He hated that she had taken on the task for so many different reasons but seeing her eyes like that had pushed only one up the surface - guilt!

He had seen the fear in her eyes and it chilled him. He wanted to run after her, stop her from killing another part of herself for the sake of a motorcycle club - something he knew so well. His limbs stung as he forced himself to stay put, resisting the need to go to her. Pin her down, kiss her and tell her it was okay; tell her that he'd do it for her. Save her from the darkness she was walking into again, but he wouldn't allow himself to do it. Fuck her!

She'd made the bed, he wasn't going to lie down in it for her.

•••••••••••••••••••

Leni managed to sneak onto hospital grounds through the staff car park. Ducking into the hospital via a side entrance the boys had scoped out for her the day before. She swept into a stairwell and hurried up to the second floor, keen to avoid any eyes who might have the authority to question who she really was.

She ducked into the visitor's toilets, checked herself over in the mirror; making sure the make-up on her scar and tattoos was still holding up before locking herself safely away in a cubical. Where she would nervously wait for word on the world outside.

Her heart was threatening to pound out of her chest. It had been a while since she'd killed someone outside of combat. They called it 'cold blood' - when the heat of the moment had passed and you thought through your actions before reacting. Leni wasn't sure if anyone could call what she was about to do 'cold blood', since she'd never actually been in the heated moment of trying to kill this guy in the first place.

It was an assassination and she knew it. Not her first -maybe not her last- but it would be another one that would haunt her on dark nights, when her shell wasn't hard enough to keep the ghosts out. Nights when she hadn't had enough to drink to knock her out until the morning light hid her sins again.

Kill one person -accident or otherwise- it would scar and haunt you in the worst way. Slay a second and the scars would bond together and eat away at you forever; slowly destroying the good - the light- parts of you. The stolen life burning it's shadow onto your soul, where it would be carried forever.

One death or one hundred, it would mark you and your conscience with indelible ink. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, or justify it; the guilt would eventually catch up to you - especially in the night. She knew she was already tarnished beyond hope. All the things she'd seen and done in the name of her club - her family. What harm would taking one more soul do?

"Juice for Leni, over." A voice in her ear said and her mind shut down her emotions and her thoughts. Focusing herself only on the job she had to do. Booting up the robotic part of her mind that was crafted by the dark world she lived in. The part of her that was professional -callous- and took no prisoners when it came to survival.

"Go Juice!" She replied.

"Security just arrived, over."

Leni smiled to herself, thinking it was cute how he said 'over' unnecessarily. "Thanks man." Her voice was tight as she fought to contain her emotions. For all she knew it might be the last time she ever spoke to him. There was a heavy possibility it could all go horribly wrong for her. She was out on a limb and silently praying that karma wasn't coming to bring her to justice today.

"Sack? Move on the girls." She said to herself, hoping like hell that the prospect heard her through the ear-piece he wore where he waited down on the ground floor. Envisioning him giving the nod to the hookers to start scrapping.

She bit her lip and willed him to come through for her as she stepped out of the cubical and exited the bathroom into the hospital corridor, before she could hear the voice of reason. She hoped her timing was right to have the fight in full swing for when the cop arrived. Fates willing, it would be enough to keep him busy.

With a deep breath -that didn't soothe her as much as she hoped- she began her act. She hurried up the staircase to the next floor, rushing through the double doors with a purpose. Hurrying towards the wiry blond cop who sat expressionless on the seat outside the victims door at the far end of the corridor. Busy reading some kind of Rev-Head magazine, trying to pass the time. She hoped that he'd be keen to chase some excitement; he certainly looked bored to death.

"Officer! Officer!" She called, forming her words clearly and with a cadence she never used in her daily life. The cop turned, a frown on his face. "Thank God!" She sighed. "There are two women in the ER about to kill each other."

"Call security!"

"We tried. They're tied up with something in the car park." She told, hoping she was pulling off her act. "I need you to come. I really fear for my staff, it was getting quite violent." She said with doe eyes. Noticing the police officer was already eyeballing her scar. "We've had two attacks on ER nurses in the last few weeks..." That was no lie, Juice had discovered details during his research. "...Could you please come and help?"

"Listen...I..." His hesitation told her she'd struck the right chord; the police officer wanted to assist. His civic duty and humanity couldn't allow him to refuse a damsel in distress when she called to him. "...I can't leave my post."

"Oh Lord." Leni gave a sigh, leaving a few beats to make it seem that she was thinking. "Could I wait here on your behalf?...It won't take you long to calm things down..." The officer looked at the ID badge clipped to Leni's jacket. There was not a single thought in his head that questioned if she was anything other than a doctor in need of assistance.

An few moments passed while he thought about the situation, and Leni silently willed him to give in to her. Knowing everything fringed on getting him away from the door. If she failed now, it would all be over before it really began.

"Alright!" He caved and Leni smiled inside. "The ER you said?"

"Yes! If you take the elevator down to the ground floor, you will come out right in front of the entrance." The cop agreed and with that, he was off. Jogging to the elevator doors at the far end of the corridor - knowing the quicker he left, the quicker he'd be back on watch.

She took a seat where the cop had previously been waiting. Crossing one leg over the other, placing her hands on her knee and watching as he turned back to check on her as the elevator came up to their floor. She gave him a smile with the perfect amount of hope and concern; further convincing him of her legitimacy.

As soon as he turned away, her eyes darkened. Keeping watch until he stepped inside and the doors closed behind him. She held herself down, waiting as patiently as she could while the red numbers above the silver doors clicked down to the ground floor.

Then, quickly - she reached into her pocket and took out a pair of latex gloves. She slipped them on and reached out a hand behind her and pushed the door handle down. She wasn't expecting it to be locked -knowing hospitals didn't allow for the locking of doors with comatose patients, in case of emergency- but she still felt a small wave of relief wash over her.

She looked left and right, checking no one was around and stood up. There were cameras at both ends of the corridor, but none that seemed angled well enough to capture her. So she slipped slickly into the room and closed the door behind her.

She looked around quickly and saw nothing out of the ordinary, a typical hospital room. Stark white with muted sunshine sneaking in through the blinds at the window. The only abnormal thing was the soft beige handcuffs that kept the patient under suspicion tied to the bed.

Trying her best not to look at her victim, she picked up the file hanging at the foot of his bed and checked the name. Louis Miguel - sure enough it was a match for who she was sent after and the realization of what she was about to do dawned on her.

Needing a moment to harden herself, she headed over to the window and looked out through the blind slats. It was nothing but a straight drop; three stories down to the ground. If the cop came back, there would be no way out; she had to work fast.

She breathed in deep and turned back to the bed. Her mark was asleep, with a number of machines wired up to him, beeping and chirping away. The restraints keeping him fixed firmly to the bed. She tried hard to push back her hesitation, knowing she really needed to hurry up and get it over with.

Quickly, she moved around to the machines and unplugged them at the wall. The sudden silence caused her mark to stir. She knew the guy was supposed to be dead. For all intents and purposes, he had been for months but now she was the reaper; coming to finally claim him. She tried not to focus on his face, knowing if she saw his eyes they'd come for her in the shadows of night.

She looked down at her hands and saw they were shaking. She clenched them into fists and mentally punched back the trepidation. She'd killed so many times before, without thinking - on pure instinct. Flight or fight; kill or be killed.

She'd taken lives with intent too. Using poison and traps - she knew this was really no different. It was do or die. She couldn't walk away, SAMCRO were relying on her and she needed the faith and insurance this deed would buy her.

There weren't many clubs around willing to help out another, especially a one that was lead by a woman. Those that were willing, she didn't much trust; knowing they likely thought she and her organization would be easily used and abused.

Of course, she wasn't naive enough to think that SAMCRO cared about her; she knew it was only residual loyalty to her father that kept Clay in her corner. She hoped taking care of their Mayan problem would buy her some loyalty of her own from them. Prove that she was a woman of her word and someone willing to do what it took to survive and flourish in their world. She knew it would cost her in the long run -one way or another- but she was left with little choice. She needed SAMCRO on her side and the only way to ensure they would be there, was to take the life in front of her.

Convinced it was her only option, her hands steadied and she reached out. Delicately placing one hand under the Mayan's chin, clamping his mouth closed, so he couldn't call out for help. The shock of her touch caused his eyes to pop open and without another hesitation Leni pinched his nose. Looking away before she caught sight of the fear in his bulging eyes.

He realized what was happening but he was too weak to put up a real fight. His eyes widened as he struggled against Leni's latex covered hands, feeling the air rapidly dissolving in his lungs. The oxygen in his blood quickly running out as his jaw and head tried to wrestle free from her grip. The veins in his neck and head straining with pressure as he suffocated under her hands.

She closed her eyes tight and willed him away; begged him to let go of the thread he clung to. She could be colder than ice when she wanted, but feeling life fade away in her bare hands made her feel so much darkness. Bringing back too many memories of things she'd been running from for years. The first mistake she'd made so long ago; the first life she'd taken - an event that had changed the course of her life and lead to her standing where she was today.

It took all her strength to push back her emotions and the haunting memories, and keep her mark pinned to the bed. Trying to remind herself about what Clay said; how he was a bad man. A dangerous and cruel human being, but it only served to prick her conscience. She knew she wasn't the one who had the right to decide if he should live or die. The man had fought to overcome the coma he was in, and yet there she was, her hands covering his nose and mouth; chasing the life out of his veins for good.

Fighting hard to keep her sense of morality at bay, she closed her eyes tight and listened to the sheets shifting in struggle; feeling it under her hands and through her arms. She started to wonder how much fight he had left in him, when -slowly but surely- his muscles started to relax as the last whispers of life left his body.

She waited for a moment to loosen her grip, then put two fingers to his neck - no pulse. She checked his wrist next and there was no sign of life there either. Then, she took a penlight from the pocket of her lab coat and pulled back an eyelid. Flashing the bright light into her victims eyes, trying not to take a mental picture of empty eyes staring at her. She saw no response to the light, which indicated full brain death.

He was gone - the deed was done.

Without hesitation, she left the room as quickly as she could; not wanting to allow for a moment to think. Glancing to the elevator and seeing no activity at the doors or on the level tracker above them. She took a second to hope that the cop was plenty busy with two bitches scratching each other's eyes out, before she took off for the stairwell again. Flying up a flight of stairs this time, to the level where Half-Sack had found a staff only bathroom and stashed her a change of clothes.

The upper corridor was empty and she scanned the doors for the one she needed. Quickly slipping inside to the pale blue room and locking the door behind her. Her hands were sweating under the latex gloves but she knew she couldn't take them off until she was done.

Letting out a breath she'd been holding in since leaving the Mayan's room, she quickly moved over to a small sink unit. Crouching down to remove a loose panel in the lower half of the counter. Quickly locating the large, brown paper bag that Half-Sack had stashed for her there.

Desperate to get out of there, she pulled out the clothing and hurried to take off her lab coat and scrubs top, revealing a slim fitting gray Henley underneath. She kicked off her white slip-on shoes and dropped a pair of Chuck Taylors on the floor. Quickly replacing the green cotton pants with a pair of dark blue jeans before shoving her feet inside the chucks. She took off the ID card clipped to her jacket and dropped it on the counter before she stuffed her scrubs into the blue plastic bag in the corner full with other hospital staff laundry.

Then, she ripped her ID card off her jacket and took out the knife from her jeans, slitting along the plastic and using the tip to open up the casing to cut out the incriminating evidence inside. It was only paper with her disguised face and fake name, but she knew if anyone found it - it could be used as evidence.

She tore up the paper into tiny pieces and rinsed it away down the sink before dropping the plastic remains of the ID badge into the brown paper bag.

Confident she did have to worry about finger prints anymore, she removed her gloves and thoroughly washed and dried her hands before popping out the contact lenses and flushing them down the drain with plenty of water. Next, she peeled off the false scar on the side of her face. Took some paper towels, wet them and scrubbed off the residual latex and make-up on her face and arms before whipping off her wig and hair-net. She separated the two parts and stuffed the blond hair into the brown bag before scraping up her own dark brown locks into a ponytail.

She tried not to notice how hard her heart was pounding as she gathered up the hair-net and everything else that may have contained a trace of DNA and slipped into a toilet cubical to flush it all away. Finally, she took a quick look around -relieved all incriminating evidence was removed- she rolled up the bag with the bits and pieces that she couldn't wash away and stuffed it back under the sink and replaced the panel firmly; hiding it where she hoped it would never be found. Then she took another piece of paper towel and speedily wiped over all the surfaces she'd touched, making absolutely sure all traces of herself were gone.

As she straightened up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. A face she knew so well stared back at her but she couldn't look herself in the eye. She forced herself to cast the guilt away -knowing there would be plenty of time to feel it later- and hurried to unlock the bathroom door where she peeked out.

It was still empty, no voices, no footsteps; just silence. Afraid of relaxing too soon, she quickly ducked back in and hurried over to the window. Covering her hands with the long sleeves of her top, she eased the handle open and climbed up onto the sill to slip out through the gap. Reaching for the drain pipe that ran alongside the window, praying it would hold her as she clutched onto it, using it as a stepping stone to get her across to where a rickety metal fire escape was located.

She checked around, to make extra certain that there were no cameras or eyes watching and once satisfied she was in the clear she made her move; racing down the metal fire escape and into a loading bay where the hospital received its food stocks and janitorial supplies.

She kept close to the wall and crept into the side car-park where the tan Ford Taurus was idling. She hurried over, popped the door and jumped in. Locking the world out and the silence in. She breathed deep -relieved for a moment- but then she felt eyes on her and a light groan came to her throat. She'd forgotten that Tig was behind the wheel. She'd been too stressed to think of him and all the power he'd held over her. It was hard to believe that he was actually waiting there for her.

"He dead?" He asked flatly. She was sitting beside him, but he only looked at her through the reflection of the rear-view mirror. Using it as a veil to try and avoid feeling any direct connection with her.

"As disco!" Leni confirmed. Giving him a sideways glance, with cold eyes. Her emotions, fears and concerns were momentarily silent. She felt empty inside -dead- but she knew it wouldn't last. The desolate space inside would be filled with her demons again in no time.

"Good!" Tig replied and put the car in drive and peeled out of the lot.

She didn't know what exactly it was this time; or where it came from but something had popped up inside her, suddenly filling her with the desire to stir things; poke the bear. "No...'Gee! Thanks Leni! You really helped us out of a tight spot?'..."

"I didn't ask for your help!" He growled, in no mood for her sassy attitude.

Leni looked at him with narrowed, provoking eyes. "If you'd double tapped 'em all in the first place - like you're supposed to...you wouldn't have needed it either!"

Her words took Tig back and his eyes flared with anger. Not only was she questioning his abilities but she was blaming all this on him! The guilt he'd been burdened while while she was gone, burst wide open; sending his emotions into a tail spin.

He moved his mouth to speak but no words came out, guilt had blocked his throat. She was cleaning up after a mess he should have never let happen, or at very least taken care of months ago. His mind flashed back to the fear in her eyes as she got out of the car and his stomach sank. He'd known all along that she didn't want to commit the crime and he knew he should have stopped her. He should have taken care of it; spared her the damage by taking it on himself.

His jaw tensed, unable to make sense of the morose feelings growing inside him. Maybe it was Donna's death making him go soft but the feeling of guilt was rooting itself deeply inside him, twisting him up. Her words echoing in his head, laying blame for it all at his feet. Starting the beginnings of a fire inside that would slowly burn through him until it reached the dynamite at his core.

Leni gave a soft snort of laughter at the look on his face. Her head and her emotions were all over the place and her mouth was running away from her - she'd done something terrible and she needed confrontation. A punishment; a distraction - anything to stem the flow of guilt that was steadily flowing in to fill her up again.

Truth be told, she was shocked to find him waiting for her. She'd half expected him to bail back to Charming; leaving her high and dry. She knew she should be thanking him but the demon inside was trying to take over. Using the cracks that opened up inside her to escape and run riot.

"I intimidate you, don't I?" She asked; her mouth running away with her.

Tig's face changed instantly, hostility shoving the guilt he felt to one side to take center stage. "A little cockteaser like you?" He growled. "Nah, sorry princess!" He wasn't intimidated by her! He wasn't intimidated by anybody. Fuckin' sassy bitch! He should have cut out on her while he had the chance. He knew he should have listened to the voice in his head that told him to fuck her over, but the loyalty to his club had won out. Knowing how much power she'd have over all his brothers if she chose to sing about all she'd learned.

She grinned cruelly; as a tiny part of her warned of the implications from her words of blame; but she failed to acknowledge it. Sure, he'd done her a favor by sticking around -like he was supposed to- but it didn't mean she had to like him for it. And it certainly wasn't enough to snuff out the fires of hostility and challenge that he lit inside her.

"Now..." He continued, trying to ignore the mixture of emotions storming inside him in favor of bitter smugness and chauvinism. Knowing from past experience it would likely shoot her down. "How about you use that smart mouth for something other than yappin'?" He said gesturing to his crotch. "...It ain't gonna suck itself."

Leni rolled her eyes away from him, unsurprised that he had to lower things down to sexual advances but she wasn't going to sink to that level. "And they say chivalry is dead..." Leni mused. She knew he had more to him than crudeness but if he wanted to be that way - he could do it alone.

With men like him, not taking that kind of bait hurt more than anything she could come back at him with. She decided callously that he'd keep for later, and she let it go. Ignoring him as she turned in her seat; rising a little as she reached over the back to grab her bag and hoodie.

Tig's head turned to watch, tilting in lustful thought. The curve of her butt was merely inches away from his face, causing desire to take the microphone inside his head.

The urge to reach out and grab it -bite it- was almost too much. Heat swelling from his crotch through his chest -chasing away the deeper emotions he felt- as she wiggled around. His aggravated mind was drifting away -almost out of his grasp- when she suddenly dropped back into the seat. Kicking her feet up on the dash, pulling out a pack of smokes and her Ipod. Plugging her ears and turning her head out of the window.

He narrowed his eyes at her venomously, his emotions flipped again. The bitch was bi-polar or something. One minute she was poking him with bitchiness; the next she was giving him the cold shoulder. He struggled to understand women at the best of times but she seemed to be re-writing everything he thought he knew.

Crazy bitch didn't seem to know her own mind, so there was no way in hell he could ever hope to figure her out! Not that he cared to, of course. He wanted her gone, her and the all shit she made him feel. The blame she cast, the guilt she stirred in him, the anger, the lust, the curiosity - everything!

He didn't need it, he didn't want it and he sure as hell didn't like it. She needed to get away from him before the fire inside exploded and burned the two of them down to ashes.

A/N: I hope that's set up the next chapter well enough; there's trouble ahead. If you'd like to read more, please let me know!

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

So, below are a few questions that keep popping up in the communication I have with some of my readers. There are no real spoilers, so they're safe to read if you're interested/curious.

1) Will Gemma feature more in later chapters? Yes. There will be lots more appearances from Gemma, later on in the story. She plays a big part in what I have planned for Tig and Leni.

2) Will we see more of Leni's involvement with her own club and the other OC's? Yes, absolutely! Now she's helped SAMCRO with their little problem, there will be more focus on her "presidential" duties and finding out who is behind the attacks on her club and what criminal activities they're involved in.

3) When will Tig and Leni give in and hook up with each other? Well, that would be ruining the surprise now, wouldn't it? Haha! It's going to take a while before their relationship truly takes any turn in that direction. I'm not a fan of rushing these things. It would be an injustice to both characters to make it happen too fast, I think they need to earn each other's trust and respect first...but trust me, the journey will be a good one with lots of drama, humour and "close calls" along the way! *winks knowingly*

4) Will Leni unleash her inner demons on Tig? Leni's darkside will come to the surface to some degree throughout the coming chapters. Will Tig get the sharp end? Maybe! There may also come a time when she makes him and Happy look vanilla, but I'm still working out the kinks on that!

5) Can you update more often? I probably could but I like to re-read/edit, read and edit some more, then discuss with my beta and reread/edit again at least once more before I post, to be sure I've improved the chapter as best I can from its first draft. So that takes time, especially with real life rearing its ugly head to get in the way. Also, I like to have several chapters in hand because I never want to get to a point where I think "Shit! I should have mentioned that six chapters ago..." I'm currently five full chapters ahead of what you are reading now (and literally 184 pages ahead in ideas/scenes and chapter outlines haha!) So please bare with me, I will do my best to update as frequently as possible and for as long as you guys remain interested.

6) Is Shithead a real game? Yes, it is! A friend of mine taught it to me while I was in college and he'd actually learned it from a couple of old biker dudes he'd met while backpacking in Europe (so I thought it was pretty fitting for the story) The magic card numbers are sometimes different but they always do the same things and it can be adapted to play for money, but it's a lot harder to follow and not as much fun!

7) Who do you picture playing your OC's? Honestly, I don't know but I will work on finding some faces and I'll put them up on my profile here if I find anyone fitting.

8) Will Opie make an appearance in the story? Yes! He will return from his walkabout eventually. I like Opie, so I'm looking forward to bringing him into my story.

9) Will the story catch up to the events of the show? Yes, no and maybe...I know exactly what's going to happen in this story, and it could fit with what happened in season two (onwards) of the show but I'm not really a fan of stories that fit an OC into canon scenes but we'll see how I can work it as the story develops (sometimes the characters run away with me) After re-watching the show, making notes and a few calculations (yeah, I'm a bit weird like that!) I figure there are about nine months unaccounted for in the early SOA timeline, which is more than enough to play out my little tale before bringing in the events of season two.

If anyone has anything else they are curious about, please let me know in comments or PM's! I'm more than happy to answer any questions, if you have them!