Aubree sat beside Lyla outside of the clubhouse, face buried in her hands. In less than a month, her entire world had gone to shit. First Chibs' accident. Then Luann's murder. Now the studio, burned to the ground. "The fuck are we gonna do now, Ly?" she asked.

Lyla shrugged. "Fuck if I know," she mumbled, wringing her hands in her lap.

"It was hard enough losing her. Luann was like a mother to me," Aubree muttered.

"If it weren't for the Son's involvement, I think Opie would be happy about this. Means I'm out of work," Lyla noted.

"I'm going to have to figure something out… Filip's been out of commission, and who knows how long he'll be laid up… he's not earning. I've got bring in money for us. God fucking damn it, this would be so much easier if I hadn't…" she trailed off, slamming her fist against the picnic table they were seated at.

"The club will look after you two. Chibs is well respected in the club… you don't have to worry, Aub."

"I've seen the hospital bills, Lyla. He's got shit insurance. He's fucking married, so it's not like I could arrange a quickie marriage to get him covered on my policy," Aubree muttered, frowning.

"Some of the girls are talking about escorting… I know it's not ideal, but it's something temporary, to keep our heads above water."

"Guess we don't have much of a choice, do we?"

Lyla shook her head. "You used to do some print fetish modeling work, didn't you?" she asked, grabbing Aubree's pack of cigarettes and lighting one.

"Yeah," Aubree agreed. "It's not nearly as lucrative as porn, but that's how I started out."

"Still got any of your old connects?" Lyla asked.

"You want to do fetish modeling?" Aubree asked, head tilted in curiosity as she observed the blonde.

"I'm sure your contacts can point me in the direction of some girl on girl print modeling shit," she shrugged.

"Fair enough. I'll make a few calls. See if we can get some work."

Aubree stood beside Gemma at the clubhouse, arms folded against her chest. "Any particular reason no one bothered to tell me he was getting released today?" she hissed, scowling.

"Sorry, sweetheart. There's a lot of shit going on with the club… they needed to bring him up to speed," Gemma apologized, patting her hand absently.

Aubree rolled her eyes. "Okay."

The van pulled up, Chibs climbing out of the passenger side. Aubree watched him as he made a beeline for Clay and the other members, completely indifferent to her presence. She made to head towards him but paused, feeling Gemma grip her firmly by the shoulder. "Let him deal with club shit, sweetheart."

Aubree sighed, lingering for a moment longer, watching as the men exchanged words, taking note of the angry expression on Filip's face. She shook her head. "I'll just be a minute, then let him get to it," Aubree told Gemma, striding towards the men.

"Hey," she told him, slinking her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder.

She frowned as she felt Chibs tense, heard him huff in annoyance. "Yeah, nice to see you too, asshole," she muttered, letting go of him.

"Lass," he said lowly, grabbing her arm.

She sighed. "I know, you're busy. I'll leave you to it," she told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He nodded, pulling her closer, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Thank ye lass."

"Yep," she muttered, slinking away, lips pursed firmly together.

She rejoined Gemma, watching as the men filed into the clubhouse. "You alright?" she asked, lighting a cigarette.

"Yup," Aubree retorted, lighting one of her own. "Great."

"There's a lot going on with the club… you know that. He's been laid up, of course he's anxious to get back into things, help his brothers. Don't take it as a personal snub, Aub," the older woman told her, squeezing her arm.

"Yeah," she sighed, frowning. "I know."

Lyla offered Aubree the rolled bill and hand mirror, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "How's Chibs been?"

Aubree shrugged. "Don't know," she said shortly, rapidly inhaling two lines of coke, dabbing at her nostrils with her fingertips. "Haven't seen him since he's been released."

"It's been three days."

"Yeah… I know. He's been staying at the clubhouse… I guess," she muttered, frowning.

"I'm sorry," Ly told her, shaking her head sympathetically.

"Has Opie ever been like this? Just pushed you away, out of nowhere?" she asked.

Lyla nodded. "I think it comes with the territory, Aub. The club comes first."

The two paused as they heard the creak of the front door opening. "Opie," Lyla whispered.

"Hey," he called out, striding into the kitchen.

Aubree nodded in acknowledgment, busying herself with doing another line. "Everything alright?" he asked, looking from her to Lyla.

"Yup," Aubree affirmed, rolling her eyes. "You seen my old man, recently?"

Opie shrugged.

She sniffed another line. "I haven't. Not since he basically shoved me off him at the clubhouse."

Opie sighed. "He's got a lot on his mind, Aubree. He just got out of the hospital. We've got a lot of shit going down at once… give him some time to get his affairs in order."

"Okay," she muttered, handing Lyla the bill. "I'm gonna head out, give you two some time… call me later, Lyla?"

"Yeah, of course," the blonde nodded, offering her a brief hug.

"See ya around, Ope," Aubree told him, offering the man a weak smile.

He nodded. "I'll remind him that he's got a woman waiting at home for him," he told her, smiling softly. "Chibby isn't used to this. It's relatively new, him having a girl, again. He's out of practice."

"Hey lass."

Aubree glanced up from her perch on the couch, smiling lightly at the familiar drawl of Chibs' accent. "Hey yourself," she greeted him.

"Need a favor."

"Oh?" she asked, rising from her spot on the couch, approaching him. "And what would that be?"

"I need some of your private stash of guns for the club… there's shite going on… we need to pull some of our personal stash."

Aubree nodded. "Sure, sure," she agreed.

She followed him upstairs, careful to keep her expression neutral as the two began gathering guns from their respective hiding places.

"Didnae know ye had AKs, love," he noted, nodding at the three guns she'd placed on the bed, along with a few handguns.

"You're not the first outlaw I've been with, sweetheart. I'm used to handling heavy hardware," she shrugged.

He nodded, frowning.

"Haven't seen ya in a few days," she noted, her tone slightly accusatory.

"Been busy," he retorted, arms folded against his chest.

"Yeah, so I've heard," she muttered, turning away from him. "Guess you'll be staying at the clubhouse. Again."

"Aubree, don't be like this, lass," he warned, his accent thick. "I don' have time te be fightin' with ye."

"But you've plenty of time to be checkin' in on Fiona, right?" she asked, voice dripping with anger.

Chibs glanced up, catching sight of the bandage peeking out from the waistband of her jeans. "What's that?" he asked, nodding.

She frowned. "Nothing important," she hissed, turning her back to him.

"Lass," he started, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll pack up and leave if you want me to," she mumbled, pulling away from him.

"Why would I wan' that, lass?"

"You've been avoiding me since you were released, Filip. I'm not stupid… I can take a hint. You changed your mind about me, I get it," she sighed, shaking her head.

"What are ye goin' on abou' lass?" he frowned, staring at her quizzically.

She shrugged.

"I've been keepin' my distance because Jimmy O is in town. I don' wan' him te know about ye. I'm tryin' to protect ye, lass. If he knows about you, he'll use you to hurt me… like he did wi' Fi. He… he made a threat abou' me daughter. Can ye blame me for wantin' to protect ye from him, from doin' anythin' to hurt ye?" he retorted, gesturing wildly.

Aubree stared at him, processing his words. She nodded silently, slowly unbuttoning her jeans. "Do you like it?" she asked, pulling down her jeans and lifting up the bandage, revealing her new tattoo; a crow.

"Is tha'…" he trailed off, stroking the still-tender skin with his thumb.

"Yeah… it's yours," she affirmed, cupping his chin, pulling him up for a kiss.

"I love it."

"Good."

Aubree stood with Lyla and Tara, smoking a cigarette. "So… this is a lock-down," she started, observing the people milling around the club grounds.

"SAMCRO looks after it's own," Tara replied, shrugging.

"How long are we stuck here?" she asked.

"As long as it takes," Tara sighed. "Jax said it's going to be a few days, minimum. They've got shit going on with the AB and the Irish. It'll be messy."

Lyla glanced from Aubree to Tara. "Think they'll let us out of here for a few hours to do some work?" she asked.

"What kind of work?" Opie frowned, wrapping an arm around the blonde's waist. "Cara Cara burnt down."

Lyla shrugged, resting her head against Opie's shoulder. "We've been doing some print modeling. Aubree has some old contacts."

Opie shook his head. "You girls should stay here. No reason to be wandering out and about when all this shit's going down. You think they won't purposely target Old Ladies to get to us? No… better if you all just stay put."

Aubree opened her mouth to speak, only to have Opie shoot her a meaningful look. "Pretty sure Chibs will back me up on this one, Aub."

She nodded, slinking away, in search of Chibs. She found him deep in conversation with Juice and Happy. "Hey," she greeted them, shoving her hands in her back
pockets.

"Aye," Chibs said distractedly, barely giving her a passing glance before resuming his conversation with the two men.

"I've got a shoot in San Fran tomorrow afternoon. Should be fine to head out that way, get it taken care of, don't you think?" she asked, casually.

Chibs turned to face her, arms folded against his chest. "No. I don' think so, love," he said coldly, frowning. "Ye stay here wit' the girls, where yer safe."

Aubree opened her mouth to argue, but silenced herself, taking in Filip's appearance; he was stiff, on edge. He's got his game face on. He doesn't need this right now.
Sighing, she nodded. "Okay," she said lowly, shooting him a meaningful look. Just… come back in one piece, yeah?" she asked, taking a step forward, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

"Aye, lass. Ye know I will."

Aubree paced back and forth in the lot of Teller-Morrow, thoughts racing. Early that morning, she'd woken to Filip pressing a quick kiss to her lips, promising he'd be back soon, before hurrying off out of the house without another word. She'd gone to the clubhouse in search of answers, only to find the place basically abandoned. "So they left. Just… left?" she asked, looking skeptically at Tig.

"They're handling shit. Getting Abel back," he retorted, shrugging. "What choice did we have?"

"Aren't like, half of you due to get arraigned like any day now?" she asked, glancing at Tara for confirmation.

"Yes," she sighed, shaking her head. "Abel is in Ireland. Jax insisted."

Aubree turned back to Tig. "Shouldn't you be with them, then?" she asked.

"Long story," he shrugged. "Besides, someone has to help the old man keep T-M running. Speaking of which… how are you at keeping books, doll?"

Aubree shot him a pointed look. "I think I can manage," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Don't look so stressed out, sweetheart," Tig told her, shaking his head. "Yer old man's still got an Irish passport. Of the lot of them, he's probably the safest over there."

Aubree shot him a pointed look. "Yes, Tig. I'm so sure that Filip is perfectly safe in Belfast, the place he had no choice but to run from after the IRA excommunicated him. I'm so sure he came to California just for kicks, leaving behind his wife and daughter. Not because he was in mortal danger," she muttered sarcastically.

"Him and Ope are also the only ones over there who aren't currently facing time. They're not the ones jumping bail," Tig countered. "He'll be fine, sweetheart. Don't worry your pretty head about it."