Jax raced through the quiet streets on his bike, toward the police station. If he got picked up for reckless driving and arrested twice in less than twenty four hours, Gemma would kill him. But he didn't care. He had to get to her before it was too late.

His plan was simple, flawless even. He should have had plenty of time to make it back to the police station before Tara was released. But finding what he was looking for, especially at such a late hour, proved more difficult than he'd planned.

He pulled into the police station parking lot. Empty.

"Shit." Jax parked his bike and raced up the steps to the station, pulling on the doors. Locked. He smacked on the glass, hoping someone would hear him. After nearly a minute, Unser appeared. He pulled a set of keys from his belt loop and unlocked the door. "Where is she?" Jax demaned.

"She went home, son," Unser said, confused by Jax's urgency. "Her dad picked her up about a half hour ago."

"Shit!" Without so much as a goodbye, Jax hurried down the stairs and returned to his bike. His tires squealed as he tore out of the parking lot. Why the hell would Tara leave the station with her dad? Had he forced her? The thought of him getting rough with Tara made Jax's blood boil. He wondered what Sean Knowles could have possibly said to her to make her go with him. Was he wasted? Was he angry? And what would happen when Jax showed up at his house to get her? Tara's father had made it very clear how he felt about Jax. Would he be interrupting a long overdue reconciliation between father and daughter? Or would he be rescuing the woman he loved from an abusive situation? And what did Unser mean, "she went home," anyway? Home to her father's house, or home to their apartment in the clubhouse?

Jax's mind was racing, his heart pounding…and then he saw it- a Tara- shaped shadow walking down the sidewalk, alone, toward the MC. Jax gunned the engine, reaching her in seconds.

"Babe!" he hollered, hopping off his bike when he reached her, breathless and relieved. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Tara didn't stop to look at him, just kept walking, her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her. "Walkin' home, Jax. What does it look like?" She was mad.

"I told you I would be there," Jax argued, following behind her.

"But you weren't! You just left me there, in jail, and with my f…"

Jax's eyes blazed. "Did he hurt you? What did he say to you?"

Tara shook her head. "Nothing happened. He signed me out and then left me there alone. Just like you did." Jax's heart sank. He could see the disappointment in her eyes. He'd let her down. That was one thing he promised her he would never do.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I got back as quick as I could." Jax reached for Tara's shoulder in an attempt to slow her down. It was already going to be a decent little walk back to where he'd parked his bike as is.

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes as she yanked her arm away.

"Tara, let me take you home," Jax pleaded. She ignored him. He sighed heavily, then matched his pace to hers so that they were walking side by side in silence. After a few minutes, she turned to him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not leaving you out here alone at one o'clock in the morning. If you're walking, I'm walking."

"And what about your bike?" Tara challenged, her eyebrows raised.

"Not as important as my girl." Jax didn't miss a beat. Tara paused, tossing her head back as she looked toward the sky. Jax took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her and pull her as close as he could. "Babe, I'm sorry." Her hair smelled like lake water and her dress was still damp. Tara's muscles were rigid at first, but began to relax the longer Jax held her. He loved the way she melted into him when she was upset. Her pride always tried to fight it, but her need to be loved won out every time.

They stood like that for a long moment, holding one another in silence, until Tara finally said the words Jax had been waiting to hear. "Let's go home."


All was quiet at the SAMCRO compound when Jax and Tara arrived. Jax let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't unusual for the entire club to be there, dealing with one crisis or another, at all hours of the night. The way his luck was going, he half expected to find all the lights on and the lot full of bikes and cars.

Tara was quiet as Jax linked his fingers through hers and led her inside. When they reached the door to their apartment, Jax paused before unlocking it.

"Babe, would you mind going and grabbing us a couple bottled waters out of the kitchen? I'll get the shower running for ya." Tara nodded, disappearing down the hall without a word. Jax smiled. Aside from the little hitch of him having to chase her down in the middle of the night, everything was going according to plan.

When Tara returned, she found Jax standing in the middle of the dimly lit room, a vase of beautiful red roses and a chocolate cake with seventeen burning candles on the table in front of him. She stared at him, her eyes wide, in complete and utter shock.

"Happy Birthdayversary, babe." Jax rounded the table, his hand clutched tightly around the small box in his pocket.

"You remembered my birthday?" Tara whispered, tears in her eyes.

"And our anniversary," Jax corrected her. "It was one year ago today that you crashed into me like a Mack Truck in the hall at school, and changed my entire life. And so today…" Jax paused as he got down on one knee, pulling the box out of his pocket. He flipped open the lid, revealing a thin white gold band with three tiny diamonds in the center. Tara's expression went from pure joy to sheer panic.

"Jax," she gasped, taking a step away from him. "Jax, you're not proposing, are you? Please tell me you're not proposing. We're only seventeen. I'm still technically sixteen, actually, I won't be seventeen until 4:32 p.m. We can't…"

"Tara." Jax's voice was gentle, calm. "Relax. I'm not proposing." Tara's brow furrowed in confusion. "Not today, anyway. Can I just finish?" Tara nodded, perplexed.

"This past year has been the best year of my life," Jax went on as if Tara had never interrupted him. "I know everything's changing now, and I know that scares you. It scares me, too. But whatever our futures hold- the club for me, college for you, I know that I want us to go through it all together. And I want you to know that I'm committed to you. Forever. I also know that moving too quickly scares you, so this is not a proposal- it's a proposal to propose. This ring has three diamonds, because three years from today, on your twentieth birthday, I am going to propose. So you should start mentally preparing yourself now. Because it's happenin'."

Tara's tears feel freely as Jax spoke. He had so much more he wanted to say, but his knee was starting to ache and Tara's candles had probably all burned out.

"So whaddya say, babe? Do you accept my proposal to propose?"

"Yes," Tara cried. "Yes, yes, yes!" Jax jumped up and lifted Tara into his arms, kissing her hard as he held her.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you more." Tara's hand trembled as Jax slipped the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.

"Now hurry up and make a wish," he said. "Your cake is gonna burn the clubhouse down." Tara looked at Jax for a long, contemplative moment before blowing out her candles with a smile on her face.

"You're not gonna tell me what you wished for, are you?" Tara shook her head, then stuck her face in her flowers, breathing in deeply.

"They're beautiful," she murmured. "Thank you so much, Jax."

"Anything for my girl," he quipped. "You hungry? I ordered your favorite- Chinese."

"Mmmm…" Tara smiled. "I'm famished. But I'm also filthy. I need a shower."

Jax tossed her a towel. "Take your time. It's gonna take me a while to scrape all this candle wax off your cake anyway."

Jax watched through the slightly open bathroom door as Tara undressed and climbed into the shower. He could see her nude silhouette through the shower door as steam filled the bathroom. He wanted so badly to finish what they'd started in the lake, but this night wasn't about what he wanted. It was all about showing Tara that he wasn't going anywhere, and about making her forget that she now had a criminal record.


"So, you wanna talk about it?" Jax asked as Tara used chopsticks to pick pieces of shrimp out of her fried rice. She was sitting across from him wearing nothing but one of his SAMCRO t-shirts, her hair falling in wet waves around her face.

"Talk about what?" she asked between bites.

"Anything. The wedding, going to jail, your dad…"

"Let's talk about my ring," Tara suggested. "It's beautiful." She held her hand out and wiggled her fingers, admiring the way the diamonds sparkled in the light. Jax bit his lip as he smiled, proud of himself.

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it. But how did you afford it? And how did you have time for all of this?"

Jax chuckled. "Apparently, I didn't have time. I thought I did, but I obviously didn't. I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you got out."

"Well," Tara said, "I suppose I can forgive you. You know, considering." She tried to stifle a yawn, but Jax saw it and jumped at the chance to get her into bed, even if it was just to sleep.

"You tired?" he asked. Tara nodded.

Jax watched her crawl into bed, his t-shirt riding up her back, exposing her pastel pink panties. He climbed in behind her and sighed when her body melted into his, as it did every night. They fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a completely fucked up puzzle.

He thought about making a move. Tara had never refused him. But instead of using his hands to start removing what little clothing she was wearing, he used them to run his fingers through her hair. Her breathing began to slow, and Jax could tell she was falling asleep.

"I love you, Tara," he whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her even closer.

"Loveyoutoobaby," she mumbled before drifting off.

Jax turned off the light and kissed her on the cheek. "Happy Birthday."


Tara was still asleep when Jax awoke the next morning to the feeling of someone tugging on his hair. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Tig standing beside his bed, his face just inches from his own.

Tig flashed a menacing grin. "Wakey, wakey, Prospect," he taunted. It had barely been a week since Tig was patched into the club, and he seemed to love using that word to refer to someone other than himself.

"What the fuck, man?" Jax whispered, trying not to wake Tara. "How did you get in here?"

"This little love nest of yours is club property," Tig explained, showing off the key ring dangling on his finger.

"My girl lives here, man. You can't just come walking in whenever you feel like it. What if she'd been naked?"

"I was hopin'," Tig teased. Jax gritted his teeth. He hated Tig Trager with a passion, more every day. But now that Tig was a club member and Jax was a prospect, he had no choice but to show the asshole respect, no matter how insincere it was.

"What the hell do you want?" Jax demanded.

"Clay sent me to get you," Tig explained. "We've got business. I'm leaving in five, and if you're not ready, Clay will have your ass." He slapped Jax on his rear for emphasis, then trotted out of the room, stopping at the door for one last gaze at Tara as she slept. Jax wanted to jump across the room and rip his throat out.

Tara woke up just as Jax got out of bed. She rolled over sleepily, searching the room for him with half closed eyes.

"Good morning," she mumbled.

Jax smiled. "Good morning. Sorry if I woke you, but duty calls." Tara looked at the clock, frowning.

"Already?"

"Unfortunately." Jax got dressed in a hurry as they talked.

"When will you be back?" Tara asked, a slight pout forming on her lower lip.

"Not sure. Hopefully within a couple of hours. What's your day look like?"

"I'm working a double today. My shift starts at one." Tara had picked up a job as a waitress at a local diner shortly after moving into the clubhouse. Jax was worried about her balancing school and work, but she was handling it all like a champ. He shouldn't have expected any different. His girl was tough as nails.

"I'll do my best to be back before you leave. If not, I'll stop by the diner later," Jax promised.

"My favorite customer," Tara smiled. Jax kissed her sweetly, then headed out the door.

"I love you," Tara called after him.

"Love you back."


Jax parked his bike alongside Tig's in an alley across the street from a dive bar in Stockton.

"So what are we doing here?" he asked as he followed Tig across the deserted roadway that cut through a very rough looking neighborhood.

"Sending a message," Tig said. Jax didn't ask for clarification. Tig was the first club member patched in under Clay's reign, and Jax could tell that Clay was already grooming him to be his right hand man. Everything Jax said and did in Tig's presence would be reported back to Clay, he was sure of it. "Watch and learn, Prospect."

The small, smoky bar was filled with dark corners and loud music. It was a place where all sorts of illegal activity could go on unnoticed, and from the looks of it, it did. Jax steeled his jaw and stood shoulder to shoulder with Tig as he surveyed the crowd of less than a dozen people.

"Ay, Tiny!" Tig yelled over the music. "I see you hidin' over there behind the bar. I've got a message from Clay."

A small, muscular man in dirty jeans and a white ribbed tank top appeared in the center of the room, his hands balled into fists. "What the hell you doin' here, Trager?" he asked, revealing a mouth full of missing and rotted teeth. He had dark, menacing eyes and a shiny, bald head. He was a typical Stockton scumbag. Jax couldn't imagine what sort of business the club had with him.

"I told ya," Tig said, taking a step closer. "I've got a message from Clay."

"Oh yeah?" Tiny and Tig continued to move toward one another until they were nearly nose to nose. Jax stayed close to Tig's side, just slightly behind him. "And he sent Biker Boy Ken here to deliver it?" Tiny thumbed his nose at Jax, looking him up and down in a way that made Jax's skin crawl.

"The prospect's just along for the ride," Tig quipped. "Now, Clay heard that one of your guys has been dealing in Charming. And I told him, there's no way. I said, 'Tiny's stupid, but he's not stupid enough to send drug pushers into Charming.' So he just wanted me to come out here and have a little chat with ya, make sure you didn't lose your head and start gettin' greedy."

Tiny sucked on what was left of his teeth, looking back and forth from Tig to Jax. Jax's stomach flip-flopped nervously. Clay's name didn't invoke the fear in Tiny that it should have, which meant that Jax and Tig weren't quite as safe as Tig seemed to think they were.

"Well you tell your boss," Tiny finally said, "that I've got a message for him." The slimy grin on his face worried Jax, but Tig seemed unaffected.

"What's that?" Tig asked. Tiny opened his mouth to respond. But if he said anything, Jax didn't hear it. He was too preoccupied by the glass bottle that cracked him in the back of the head, shattering against his skull.

Jax's world went dark as he sunk to the floor. He heard a scuffle, some yelling, and felt blood pouring out of the back of his head, soaking the side of his face. He struggled to open his eyes.

"Jax!" Tig screamed. "Jax, get up!"

Jax pushed against the invisible vices holding his eyelids closed. His vision returned at the same moment Tiny's body hit the floor.

Jax felt Tig's arms around him pulling him up into a sitting position. "You alright, kid?" Jax was unable to speak.

He watched Tiny's white tank top turn crimson, a gaping hole in his gut. Blood pooled at Jax's feet and he tried to scoot away, but he couldn't move.

"What did you do?" he mumbled, his voice barely audible over the pounding in his head.

"We gotta get out of here, kid." Jax thought he heard sirens in the distance. He struggled to stand, but his feet kept slipping in the thick layer of blood surrounding him. Tig held him under his arms and hefted him up with a loud grunt.

"Put your arm over my shoulder," he said. "Just lean into me. I got ya, kid." Jax slung his arm over Tig's shoulder. Tig wrapped an arm around Jax's waist. As he pulled him out of the bloodied bar, Jax noticed another body lying on the floor near the door, amongst shards of broken glass. His throat was slit and he was lying in a pool of blood so dark, it was almost black.

"Who the fuck is that?" Jax asked, breathless.

"The asshole who cracked you in the head with a beer bottle," Tig explained as if it should have been obvious.

"Jesus Christ," Jax breathed.

By the time they got outside, the sirens were much louder. The police were close. They would never make it to their bikes in time. And even if they did, Jax was in no condition to ride.

"Fuck!" Tig screamed. He scanned the street, looking for an answer. Parked just down from the bar was an empty mail truck, with no mail carrier in sight. "Come on," he said, tightening his grip around Jax's waist. "You just gotta make it to the truck."

The police couldn't have been more than half a block away when Tig shot off the latch on the mail truck door and slid it open, helping Jax inside. He climbed in behind him and pulled the door closed just as the red and blue lights became visible.

"Just stay down," Tig instructed. He examined Jax's head. "Jesus, man. He got ya good. I need to get you to a hospital."

"No!" Jax protested. "You can't. I mean…"

"Your mom's already gonna have my balls for this. I don't need it gettin' any worse. You're hurt bad. You need a doctor."

"But if you take me to the hospital, there'll be a record, won't there?" Jax felt dizzy, and darkness began to crowd the corners of his vision. His hair was soaked with blood, and he could feel it running down his back in nauseating waves.

"Yeah, and if I don't, you might die. Weigh your options, kid." Tig stared at Jax with piercing blue eyes as Jax tried to think. Finally, he looked up at Tig.

"What would you do?" he asked. Tig looked surprised.

"Me? I uh…I'd probably go back to the clubhouse, let Clay make the call."

"Then that's what we'll do," Jax insisted. Tig smiled, a genuine, respectful smile. He nodded to Jax and then hopped into the cab of the truck, elated to find the keys in the ignition. He let out a loud whoop and started the engine. "Our bikes!" Jax remembered as Tig pulled away from the curb. "If they find them, we're fucked."

"Too risky, kid," Tig warned.

"No," Jax argued. "Just back up to the alley and we'll pull 'em in the truck real quick. I'll help you.

"Alright," Tig agreed with a smile. "You got it, kid."


"What the hell happened?" Clay yelled as Tig helped Jax out of the stolen mail truck. The entire club was there waiting, including Gemma. How did they know? "We heard about Tiny on the police scanner," Clay explained, answering Jax's silent question.

"Jax!" Gemma screamed, running toward him. "Baby, are you okay?"

"Chibs!" Tig called out, his primary concern Jax's wellbeing rather than Clay's wrath, which Jax found odd. "Chibs, you gotta see if you can help him. I wanted to take him to the hospital, but the stubborn little prick wouldn't go."

The next several minutes were a blur. Jax was rushed inside the clubhouse and laid atop the bar. He heard Tig and Clay talking heatedly nearby, Clay giving orders to Otto and Bobby to get rid of the mail truck. Gemma sat beside Jax, rubbing his hand comfortingly as Chibs cleaned out his wound and stitched it closed, then gave him a tetanus shot in his right shoulder. He handed him two tiny, oval shaped white pills and a glass of water, then helped him sit up.

"Somebody needs to get him cleaned up," Chibs said.

"I got it," Gemma volunteered.

"Ma," Jax protested. "You're not helping me into the shower. That's weird."

"Me," Tig volunteered. "I'm covered in his blood, so we're practically family, right?" He helped Jax down from the bar and led him down the hall toward the apartment.

"Why are you helping me?" Jax asked, struggling to stave off the pain as Tig helped him get undressed and into the shower.

"Because, that's what we do," Tig explained simply. Jax fought to stay upright while he rinsed off, watching the water turn red as it circled the drain. When he climbed out of the shower, Tig handed him a pair of clean sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt. Jax dressed slowly, then allowed Tig to help him to his bed.

Gemma and Clay were waiting for him.

"Baby, do you need anything?" Gemma asked. Jax shook his head, instantly regretting it as pain tore through him. He climbed into bed, lying on the side of his head that wasn't stitched closed.

"He did good today, Clay," Tig said with a smile.

"Yeah he did," Clay agreed. He clapped Jax on the shoulder. "Proud of ya, kid."

Jax never expected Clay's words to ever matter to him, but somehow, they did. In that moment, they were the only thing that mattered.