Heyyy…. *dodges behind Happy's awesome sexy body for cover from the zoning eyes of all fans* Yessss, be DISTRACTED by the muscles. LOVE the muscles. Don't hate me! Because, hey stating the obvious here - it has been a long while. Honestly, life happens: MAJOR volunteer work, job, looking for a new house, family issues, etc. etc. This is just for fun, and really it is fun … but the world still goes on. Days blends together and before I know it I am like, "Inspiration! ...Wait, how long has it been since I uploaded this story?! Yikes!" So… ta da ? Maybe…? Chapter 26, eh? Eh? Don't you dare glare like that when you all know your hearts pretty much skipped a fucking beat when you saw I FINALLY UPLOADED THE NEXT CHAPTER! LMAO I know, I am psyched to. I hope you guys like it. Fingers crossed.

The next morning, Jax found himself in the garage at the clubhouse; too damn bright and earlier. He hadn't slept well... and he couldn't even find it in him to place any of that blame on Tara, who he had stayed up with to steal kisses like they were both teenagers again and didn't want to be caught by Gemma. It had everything to do with Janie and the words that she fearlessly uttered just a few feet away from where he stood right now. He respected Janelle for it, for saying what was on everyone else's mind but was too damn scared to say to him. All because he had that nice 'Vice President' patch. He couldn't fault her, mainly because he knew he needed the wake up call.

Jax knew he had been free falling, caught between the club and his emotions. Stretched thin by his Father's manual and protecting the club that was, is and will always be his family. It was last night, long after Tara went to bed, that something dawned on him: What if… his father suspected, hoped and secret stashed the manuscript in hopes that Jax would one day find it? He knew that question should have come to him much sooner than now, but even Jax could privately admit that he hadn't been playing with a full deck lately. It was a dangerous question though, one that Jax may never really get the answer that sat well with him. If not for him, then who did John Teller leave it for? And if the answer was yes, then did his father know that… if found, would possibly get him killed? The words were dangerous, he saw as much in the way everyone shifted nervously around him. His actions reflected the war going on inside of him, waging for more than a month now.

Last night was Janelle's breaking point with all of it - that much at the moment Jax was damn sure of - and while some may claim, "She's just an Old Lady." Anyone who knew the woman first hand? Knew that was far from the truth. Had she seen the "Big Picture Shit" that he was slowly starting to see now? She hadn't said really said anything since Nevada… but then again, would he really have listened if she had?

Jax sighed heavily; leaning against the black, beat up car that they had the displeasure of trying to perform fucking miracles to make 'new'. It was too damn early to think this in depth, damnit. This morning he snuck out of bed and pulled on a faded black hoodie over a white t-shirt, threw on some jeans, grabbed a pitch black beanie to cover his strung out hair, threw on some shoes before stalking out the door. He avoided the bar area since he didn't want to wake anyone up and deal with the shit storm that he could feel was brewing for days now… and somehow ended up here. It was quiet, he would give it that much. Cleaned up to the best of their ability, despite the pile of grease ridden red rags haphazardly thrown into a pile on the floor.

He threw open both of the garage doors, hissing when the bright light stung his eyes… somehow with less damage than what Janelle's words had done to his brain. It wasn't long after he settled back against the car that he was confronted by the sight of his best friend, only though… Opie looked just as bad as Jax suspected he himself looked, if not worse. "You… look like shit, man." Jax eyed him with bagging, strung out eyes and a pale complexion.

"Donna took the kids to her mom's, probably to settle down some of the bitching about not being able to see them enough. I don't get that shit, it's not like she goes out of her way to call on their birthdays or Christmas. So…" Opie sighed and he too looked like he threw on some clothes of the darker variety just to get the hell out of dodge. An old, zip up black jacket was thrown over a black t-shirt. He had dark jeans and gruff, brown beard the only indication to the outside world of what color was underneath the black beanie that was identical to what Jax was wearing. "I can never really sleep when the house is empty."

He looked down as he rubbed his hands, trying and failing to find some kind of activity to do even now; the near silence in the garage clearly made him twitchy. Jax couldn't blame him; he experienced the same thing even now... though it had less to do with constantly being around noise and more so with the fact that Jax didn't want to put much thought into his weaknesses. Not now, and he was pretty damn sure not ever .

Jax sighed once more and pushed himself off of the car, forcing himself to move forward a few steps with hesitancy practically oozing out of his every pore. He looked his friend in the eye, trying to assess why Opie had even went and volunteered last night for the shit that was going to go down today. It didn't make any sense, and those were the words that fell from his lips. Not because Opie couldn't handle it, he trusted the guy with his life, but because of the… desperation he now saw in Opie's darker eyes. It scared the shit of Jax, to be truthful. He knew what that kind of desperation did to members, and even though it was far from fair - it was Kyle's desperation that put Opie in prison. Maybe the guy wouldn't have done what he did otherwise - who knows, but the fact that Opie had it… He didn't want to see it corrupt his best friend from the inside out, make him do stupid shit and lead to death row.

Opie responded by pushing a question back on him, making Jax eat his words that Opie couldn't be half in-half out. This was different though, this was… eagerness coming into play. "It isn't about that. This was about money, shit gets sloppy." Especially when it amounted to only that in the end. Instead of treading in the cage, getting used to being back in shark infested waters…. Opie pretty much deep dived and seemingly expected to get out unscathed. Jax had desperation too, he desperately wanted Opie to actually use his fucking brain with this. Oh, irony. I salute you.

"That's where you're wrong, Jax. It's not about money. In fact, you may not be aware? But the last sleepover the girls had, Janelle gave Donna ' some ' cash. 'Some' being an understatement, but Janelle found out about the problems we were having and despite Donna trying to get her to take it back she wouldn't. You, of all people, know how damn stubborn your sister is." Opie looked at him with a sly expression, which underlined with a weird mixture of protectiveness and the amused 'Shit-hadn't-really-changed-had-it?' look. In a split second though, he turned serious, "I'm… doing this the same reason you are. To prove, once and for all, that I am SAMCRO."

Jax felt like his heart dropped into his stomach, the acid there burning a hole painfully in the organ, at the knowing expression that Opie aimed at him. He shook his head, looked away guiltily, before forcing himself to meet Opie's eyes once more. " I have nothing to prove ." He claimed softly and even if the words echoed in the silence around them, Jax knew it was more to convince himself than Opie.

"Really?" Opie questioned Jax's statement with an almost earnest expression, eyes boring into the blond's even as he continued, "Do you really think… that anyone in this clubhouse - members all the way down to the croweaters - believe that? Do you think that they don't talk about you? Do you think that Janelle doesn't talk to Happy about how off track you are becoming? I mean come on, you would have to be brain dead and blind to not see the glare that he gives you lately. You are making everyone that's around you on edge. Me? I am ready for this, whether you choose to believe it or not… The question isn't about me right now. Are you ready for this?" Silence answered back at him and Opie held his friend's eyes a moment longer and asked one more question before walking out of the garage to sit on his bike, waiting for when Bobby would show up.

"...When are you going to allow the crow to actually fly straight, Jax?"

"Jax …" Happy tuned into Janelle's sleepy whimper from where he laid behind her on their bed, his taut darker skinned arm possessively curled around her stomach that was slowly bulging out with child. He tightened his grip a little, the pain in that one word seemed to pierce through him in such a way that a bullet would never be able to do. He had been on good terms with Jax before all of this, even if he thought the guy was too sentimental at times. Happy himself was good at what he did, perhaps too good by many standards but he didn't give a rat's ass about those. The ones who voiced them would never understand the drive of that made a prospect keep going, despite doing the jobs that members didn't - and refused - to do. Before Janelle, Happy thought that it was more than 'family' or some flowery shit that people thought it was. In fact, he came to realize it was for society's rejects… of course it helped that some were willing to kill or be killed for what they believed in.

He was the only one that really saw Janelle like this though, emotionally exposed, out of all the other people in the clubhouse. The ones that came closer than anyone besides him was her mother, Tig and - up until now anyway - Jax. It infuriated Happy to know that the one that she shared a close bond with since the womb… would be the one to break her heart. Damn it, Happy was used to killing shit and if it hurt Janelle he wouldn't think twice. However Jax was damn lucky for the fact that if he turned up… missing… than Janelle would feel even more pain. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Whatever Janelle had said to him last night, Happy hoped it stuck to the wall of Jax's thick skull.

In the meantime, Janelle needed a distraction… something to keep her preoccupied until the time came when Jax finally pulled his head out of his ass and saw passed Tara's pussy. An idea came to him then, one that had been circulating for a while now and it made Happy gently extract himself from the bed to quickly get dressed.

After all, it was about damn time they were looking for a place of their own and who better to help them out then the reigning Queen of SAMCRO?

Tara woke up alone in the bed of what was a familiar room, it was funny how she had thought back to this room with both longing and pain whilst in Chicago. For as much as she loved the man, back then she couldn't stand the club. Now though, she knew that they went hand in hand so she looked at everything around her from the desk littered with junk and car parts, the clothes half assed thrown into the hamper… to even the American flag that hung on the wall at the headboard of the bed, with a smile curving on her lips. Especially when she recalled one late night in her teen years when said flag fell down and covered Jax's head when he was just about to kiss her; comical as it was, his half-hearted glare was even more so.

She got up and grabbed her pants from the night before with one hand before Tara grabbed her shoes with the other. As much as she had come to accept what Jax did, grudgingly mind you, she also clearly remembered the first time she stayed too long at one of the SAMCRO parties. Tara released a full body shiver at the image, she wasn't a prude but damn .

Heading down the hall, she told herself not to look - mainly because she would still need to look at the members later today and Tara would prefer if she did so with eye contact. Nevertheless at the last second of her walking into the kitchen in an attempt to hunt down some coffee, her eyes flickered to around the bar before redirecting her attention elsewhere. She released a breath then, one that revealed just how tired she was before reaching out an arm to grab a cup from the strainer. As soon as she touched it however, a voice chose to chim in a "Good morning." Startled, she turned her head to see Gemma sitting at a table, legs crossed and on the high stool like the queen that she was.

Tara knew from the glints in the Matriarch's eyes that Gemma was planning to grill her about her relationship with Jax. It was almost funny, for even though she didn't really want to step on Gemma's toes? Janelle was far worse when she was pissed off, and that was before all the pregnancy hormones. "Good morning, Gemma." She smiled softly at the woman that didn't want to accept her, some things never change. "This is 'Coffee flavored coffee', right?" She asked out loud to the older woman even as she poured herself a cup, taking the line from what she remembered Janelle always asked since her teen years and swore off Hazelnut the very first time she tried it. Even now, two decades later, she still couldn't handle the mere smell of it.

She turned to witness Gemma actually trying to hold back a smirk, knowing full well where she got that from. "Bobby made it before he head out to get something." Gemma responded, eyes narrowed, almost in an attempt to see through to Tara's big brain through her orbs. It was a cliffhanger that the old Tara would have tried like hell to track down like a goddamn Bloodhound, but now…

Tara just nodded in response before asking then, "So, I am gonna take that as a yes, then?"

Gemma eyed her, and came to the conclusion that the younger woman's relationship with her daughter was kinda like being in shit's creek without a paddle. She resolved to wait, the lack of action grating on her own nerves, but Gemma decided to act in good faith that she knew all too well what pregnancy hormones did to a woman. "For the love of God! You will just have to taste it, sweetheart. Though, I solemnly swear to you that I didn't poison it."

Tara blinked a few times in shock, the warmth radiating the coffee mug from the inside out made the moment even more real. She was about to ask Gemma if she even knew how close the start of her last sentence was to Harry Potter but Happy decided that moment was the perfect time to walk into the kitchen as well. Up close he seemed to be even more imposing than she briefly remembered him to be, that tattoo curling on his head and the way his eyes glinted in silent rage as he looked at her didn't help any… or, you know, at. all. Apparently, pissing off Janelle triggered Happy's dangerous, rage issues. Great, Tara thought with sarcastic excitement, add that as number two-hundred and fifty-eight on why NOT to piss off Janelle Lowman.

After aiming that look at her, Happy ignored Tara altogether in favor of looking at Gemma… and maybe it was just Tara, but she could have sworn that the intensity in his eyes lessened a few degrees. "Good. Then you can tempt Janelle with it to get her out of bed. She is in need of a distraction… in light of things." He voiced the last four words in a harder tone of voice that was clearly half directed at Tara.

"Oh?" Gemma tilted her head to the side in an almost, but not quite, sarcastic manner before she picked up her own coffee mug and easily got down from the stool with a raised eyebrow. The eye contact between Gemma and the patched member made Tara almost feel like she shouldn't even be in the same room as them, at least for right now. An outsider, Tara thought with dawning apprehension. "You got something in mind?"

He nodded and looked at her with faux curiosity, "What do you think about house hunting?" His question got him the response that he knew that he would; and Happy watched as Gemma's eyes sparkled before a pleased smile curved her normally scowled expression upward, lightening her face.

"I think 'About damn time', to be honest here. I also love it when you all come to me, speaking my language, and knowing damn well that I wouldn't pass this shit up." Gemma smirked at him before walking through the space between him and Tara to fix Janelle a cup of coffee, just the way she liked it. It was then though, that Happy's attention redirected to Tara and the glare from before came back full force when it was obvious that she hadn't acted on the hint.

"Don't you have somewhere - anywhere - to be?" He asked her in his graveling voice, calmer but still that of a reaper, and watched her throat impassionately as she gulped, nodded in confirmation before swiftly leaving the kitchen with a half full coffee cup in he turned back to see if Gemma was ready to go upstairs, Happy found that she was staring at him with amusement. And after a few seconds of staring at him, looking like she desperately wished that she had recorded what just happened, she gave him a few slow nods of what could only be approval.

She grabbed the coffee cup then with two hands and nodded once in confirmation that she was ready. "Come on, Hap. Let's go try to shake up and amplify Janelle's 'nesting' instincts, hm? Should be fun."

And as he followed her out of the kitchen, Happy could feel a suspicious knot of emotion curl in his stomach... trying to warn him of the dangerous that always induced after the three letter phrase, "Should be fun."

So… basically? Tara needs to prove to everyone that she isn't there to cause trouble. (We all know damn well they won't just welcome her with open arms.) Janelle is still pretty much upset, even in her dreams. (Well... at least whatever she was dreaming about didn't make her reach for the gun underneath Happy's pillow so... I guess that is a positive?) Opie is... toughing up? (So. Damn. Hot. lol). Jax is… a slowly turning into a #thinking Jax (We will just have to see where that goes.) Gemma is amused. Happy is… so not happy. ("Danger Will Robinson, danger!") and… HE GETS HIS OWN SEGMENT/PROV?! YES! *Strikes Rockstar pose* YOU SEE WHAT YOU SEE. :D

Please review and let me know what you think? Thank you so much for reading!