"You and Sonny Boy having a disagreement over politics or pussy?"

Chibs pursed his lips together as the other man set a cup of coffee to the table before him, shaking his head into the biting comment before lifting his glance. "Don't know what you're talkin' about, Barosky. Me and the boy are fine."

"Really?" the older man let his body flack back into the opposite chair, humor scattering over his face as he lifted his own cup and ranged it between them. "Cuz that little scene pretty much put everything I've been hearing into perfect perspective."

"Yeah?" Chibs cocked sharply between them, "And what have you been hearing?"

"That Ally Jarry's got herself a prime guard dog curled up on her bed." Charlie gave him a crooked smirk that smacked of being too far to one side of smug. "Not that I can blame you. That's some very fine real estate up under that uniform. I like her… when she's not being a haughty bitch."

He sucked down an intentionally calming breath, lifting the coffee to sip against it before angling his head back up. "Sure, but I like the sass. Keeps her wild."

He exhaled into the way Barosky turned out a broad chuckle, shaking his head as he resettled his position in the chair, laying his shoulders back in a more relaxed manner. The retired cop was shaking his head in a slow lathe of back and forth amusement, sipping at his coffee as he stared off forward. A slow nod finally found a temporary safety between them before he turned a glance back to Chibs, lifting the coffee in a mocking salute.

"You're a madman, Telford. I can appreciate a little lunacy."

Chibs cocked him a half smile that didn't really reach to his eyes. "Not here to talk about her."

"Didn't figure you wanted to share the details with a dirty old man." Barosky grinned at him quickly. "I'd pay for photos, though."

"You're ridin' my patience now, Charlie." He asserted sharply and arched back in the chair as the other man bent into another chuckle.

"What do you need?"

"Deputy Dulane." Chibs answered sharply. "He's swinging."

"He's a weekend junkie who binges and fucks off on his wife." Barosky shook his head quickly as he settled back on his chair again. "From what I know of Jarry, she's not stupid enough to trust him all that much or for all that long."

"She's got him pinned down on multiple offenses. Keepin' him on hold." Telford hissed quietly over his coffee, head cocked into the conversation. "That gonna be a problem?"

"Could be." Barosky winced a frayed honesty back toward the other man. "Seriously, Scotty. I cut him loose over a year ago because he's a shady little shit. He's lucky he's still walking."

"So his extracurricular payroll's been light awhile." Chibs surmised quietly.

"Which works for her if she wants to pay for the addiction just to keep him on point, I guess." The other man slowly slid him a questioning glance. "But I can't imagine the county pays enough to afford her lifestyle and a blackmailing coke habit."

"That's true." He agreed softly and took another sip of the coffee, intentionally keeping his face a paled blank.

"Well, fuck me." Barosky snorted his shoulders back farther. "Never thought I'd see the day."

At Chibs' questioning look the older man shook his head slowly. "What?"

"The cash is already coming down the pipeline, isn't it? Are you playing her or is she playing you?"

Telford leaned a shrug forward on his shoulders. "We take turns. And that boy's not gettin' a funding from anyone. Just an incentive."

"Incentive only lasts until it's gone." The former cop watched him as he stood, head rocking back and forth slowly. "You remember what I told you."

"I will." He nodded quick agreement before finishing off the coffee and setting the cup down, glasses tugged from his pocket as he started to turn. "Thank you."

"She could be a fine asset - and you're a Westminster worthy dog to have, Scotty." Barosky laid out after him as he headed toward the door, the words cautiously low. "But you both need to be smart about this. Because Teller's not just gonna hand over the leash with a smile and tip of the hat."

He stalled up and bit down against his lip, scraping his teeth against it before turning and letting his hands hook against his waist. He considered the older man a moment, forcing himself to rattle a layer of oxygen both into and out of his lungs as he faced the blatant and damn near concerned look of honesty in the other man's eyes.

"And you know it."

"My loyalty is to my club, Barosky." He murmured slowly. "She knows that, loud and clear. And if y'keep referring to me as a goddamn dog, I'll bite."

Charlie gave him a broad grin. "Don't doubt it."

He hesitated another moment, catching the amusement on the older man's face. "You'll call me if you hear something I'd like to know?"

Barosky shrugged off a grin, "Only because I have a whole new sordid respect for the big brass balls on our new Sheriff."

Chibs gave him a smile before tugging his glasses on, "Huge."

"I gather." Barosky was still laughing behind him as he rang the bell on the swinging door, cringing into both sounds as they jangled up his spine together.

"So what's the problem over at the San Joaquin Sheriffs?" Some of the frustration had laxed out of the younger man's shoulders and he was leaned back in his chair, cigarette smoldering as he cast a sidelong glance toward his Vice President. "Are we worrying?"

"No." Chibs shook his head slowly. "Not yet."

"I'm worried." Tig offered across the table. "If you're having chats with Barosky - "

"One of Jarry's deputies has a predisposition for snorting coke and fucking around on his family." He explained between the two of them, avoiding any other discussion as to why it was riding his nerves. "He's shifty and throwing weight. Barosky cut him off awhile back and he's flailing, tryin' to find new bankroll. I wanted background in case he became a problem."

"Is it a problem?" Jax asked tightly, though Chibs wasn't sure if he was actually asking about Dulane or Jarry.

"Barosky's on him." He offered between the other two men, shoulders back in his chair as he sighed. "I'm not gonna worry on it."

It was the taste of the lie that clawed up his throat.

It tasted like gutter water and bile.

"Hey." Tig's voice was soft and clipped with a brotherly sort of understanding as he slid into the booth opposite. "You plan on staying here all night?"

Chibs flicked him up a shrugged glance before looking back down over the emptied table, glance slightly unfocused and hazed.

"Feelin' squeezed, aren't ya?" Trager loosened his posture and slung his arms up onto the back of the booth seat. "Sides pushing in?"

"He sends me to her and then jerks me back." His voice was a slow grit, words cautiously quiet as he angled the other man a glittered glance. "He lets me have it and then he takes it away. Dog with a fuckin' bone."

"He's just lookin' out for you, Chibby." Tig whispered. "For all of us. We can't trust a cop. Plain and simple."

The sudden sideways jerk of the other man's jaw had Tig lifting his palms into the air between them. "I like her, Chibs. I do. You know I do…"

"But?"

"No." Trager leaned forward into the sincere explanation. "It's not a 'but'. It's an 'if'. I like her if she's being straight with us. I like her if she can make this work for everyone. I like her if she's not gonna pull the trigger on my brother. There's a difference."

"I don't tell her anything." The Scot anchored his voice deep with emotion. "I don't. She knows where I stand."

"You fallin' for a fairy tale with a badge and a gun belt, brother?" the sadness in his friend's question didn't go unnoticed and Chibs just stared helplessly up into the question. "Jesus Christ. You'll never forgive yourself if she turns on us, Chibs. It'll end you."

Telford exhaled a breath that sounded near on a despondent laugh, "I'm done in already, Tigger."