Thank you so much to all of you who took the time to review, favorite, or follow! :D You all make my day brighter with your kind words!

This chapter takes place at the end of Season 3, Episode 13 "NS". :)

I'm going to try and upload at least one more chapter before the Season 5 premiere (which is only 8 days away! YAY!).

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Angela

Hands All Over

Chapter 37: Staying Strong

By Love Ink

Angela lay back against the bonnet of the Cutlass, fighting to keep her eyes open underneath her sunglasses. She and Tara had been waiting at the transfer spot for at least an hour, the hot sun beating down on them. She could feel Tara's nerves as the doctor shifted from foot to foot, her eyes constantly checking the turn point. "Relax, T. We'll hear them long before we see them," Angela assured her, kicking at the tire with the heel of her boot.

"I just…don't want to mess this up," Tara murmured, fidgeting with her hair nervously.

"What's to mess up? We're just drivin'," she replied around a yawn.

Tara looked back at Angela once again impressed by her calm demeanor. She'd given off the same nonchalant attitude when they'd been kidnapped by Salazar. She wondered if it was just an act or if Angela just really didn't care. "How do you remain so calm all the time?"

She shrugged in response. "Nervous people make mistakes. I don't get anxious 'til I have a good reason for it," she explained. "It's easy to do when you've had it instilled in you since you were a kid. Just breathe, think of your heartbeat slowin' down. Relax."

"Easier said than done," Tara muttered, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She sighed when it did nothing to calm her.

"That is true," Angela agreed on a sigh. She moved to sit up, hissing when the movement pulled at her sore ribs. "Nope, that's not gonna happen," she groaned to herself as she lay back down.

Tara's brows furrowed in concern. They'd just shared a forty minute car ride, and she hadn't once asked Angela about her injuries. Suddenly, she felt like a terrible friend. "I didn't even ask how you were feeling. Did you break anything?"

"Cracked ribs and one hell of a concussion," Angela replied as though it was no big deal. "My whole side is a lovely shade purple."

"Are you in a lot of pain?"

She contemplated whether to answer that or not. She'd been trying to hide just how much pain she was really in from Juice and the other guys and had apparently succeeded since no one asked her about it. But she was in pain and her head was still throbbing. "Yeah, actually," she answered honestly.

Tara frowned, trying to think of what she could do to help. "I think I have some pain meds at home if you want to come by and pick 'em up later."

"That'd be awesome. Thanks, T," Angela said with a grateful smile. "I used up all the ones I got for my wrist."

"Thought you didn't see a doctor for that."

"Don't worry about it," the undertaker said confidently.

Tara rolled her eyes in response, the comment she was about to make cut off by the sound of motorcycles in the distance. "Here they come," she said, moving around the car to open the trunk.

Angela grinned widely as she somehow managed to sit up. "Showtime."

The boys whizzed past them, pulling in to park in an orderly line in front of the Cutlass. The big black van pulled up next to them and Happy jumped out. He rushed around the van and opened the backdoors. Angela nodded her greeting to Juice as he walked by, slapping her ass when he was close enough. She rolled her eyes at him as she watched them pull out a squirming person from the back of the van and dump them in the trunk. That, she had not been expecting.

"Stay safe, Angel," Juice murmured as he walked by, catching her hand in his and giving it a quick squeeze before heading to his Dyna.

Angela sucked in a deep breath as she crawled into the back of the Cutlass, giving Phil the front since he was considerably larger than she was. Miles got in next to her, nodding a greeting to her. Tara waited for Phil to get in before she made her way down the road. The car was relatively quiet for a few moments before Miles cleared his throat. "You're lookin' good, Ang. You know, for someone who was just kidnapped and stuff."

Tara caught the 'you have got to be kidding me' look on Angela's face in the rearview mirror and bit back a laugh just as Phil turned around and glared at his fellow prospect. "Dude," he chastised.

"What? It's a compliment! I mean, I'd expect you to be a mess or somethin', but you look hot," Miles said, digging the hole deeper. "As always."

"Thanks. Amazing the difference makeup can make," Angela said, trying her best to be polite.

He nodded in agreement before looking at Tara. "You're looking good too, Tara."

"Thank you, Miles," Tara said on a light laugh.

"Of course you two always look good otherwise Jax and Juice wouldn't…I mean, I wish I could find a hot girl like you all. Ang, you got sisters? I'm more into brown girls myself."

Angela snorted at the comment, shaking her head at him. "No."

"Cousins?"

"Dude," Phil repeated looking at Miles over his shoulder. He'd caught on to the familial relationship between Angela and the Tacoma Killer, though it was obvious Miles hadn't.

Angela smirked at Miles, deciding to play with him a little. After all, the car ride was a long one, and she needed something to entertain her. "Just one."

"Nice. She hot?"

She actually laughed at that one. "Oh, you wouldn't want to touch my cousin," she stated confidently.

"Why's that?"

"He'll put a bullet through ya," she answered, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

"Happy's her cousin, Miles," Phil finally explained with a sigh.

Miles' eyes widened as he looked at Angela in a whole new light. "Jesus, you don't think that's something you shoulda told me? How the fuck does Juice handle that pile of crazy?"

Angela laughed humorlessly as she shook her head at him. "I think it'd be a very good idea if you stopped talking Miles. Just for a little bit."

"Good call," Phil agreed on a chuckle.

Miles nodded, falling silent for a few minutes. "He's really your cousin though?"

"Yes!" Both Phil and Angela shouted at him as Tara laughed from her place at the wheel.

"Damn. Got more respect for Juice now," he muttered to himself. Angela punched his arm as hard as she possibly could, her rings biting into his skin. He rubbed at the spot a scowl on his face. "Ow! Shit, I get it, I get it. I'll shut up."

The boys' motorcycles were all lined up in their usual spot when Tara pulled the Cutlass into the Clubhouse compound. Apparently, they knew a faster way back since Angela hadn't seen them once on the way over. Juice and Tig were waiting by the garage bay, gesturing for Tara to pull in there. As soon as the engine was off, Tig had Tara's door open. "Let's go, doc. C'mon," he said gesturing for her to get out. "Good job, girls."

Tara stepped out of the car, holding the seat back so Miles and Angela could slide out too. Juice held out a hand to help Angela out of the car. She gladly took it, holding onto it tightly as she almost tripped out of the low slung vehicle. He chuckled as he caught her against his chest. "You all right there, Angel?"

Angela nodded, letting go of his hand and awkwardly standing in front of him. Juice could see the worry in her eyes, her hands tugging nervously at the end of her braid. Instinctively, he pulled her into his arms, dropping a quick kiss to her forehead. "It's gonna be okay, baby," he whispered in her ear. "I'm gonna be okay."

"Promise?" she asked on a sigh as she leant into his embrace. Pulling away, she glanced up at him and gave him a small smile. He brushed a hair away from her face, his warm hand settling on the back of her neck as he caught her lips in a soft kiss. She savored the kiss, trying to commit the feel of it to memory. Though she knew she could visit him in prison, she didn't know how much physical contact they allowed there. Even then, kissing him out in the open where they were both free was likely to feel different than kissing him in the confines of a prison visiting room where all eyes were on them.

"Yeah," he answered, his thumb gently swiping over her lower lip. He glanced over her shoulder when he heard a motorcycle in the distance. "Shit's about to go down, Angel. I need you to stay on the sidelines for this, all right? No matter what."

"Got it," she repeated, starting to feel anxious. This was it. The last time she was going to see him without a guard standing there. The tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. She knew he saw them, could tell by the way his face fell. "Juice, I…"

He knew what followed, knew she was about to say those three big words that had been taboo for them for such a long time. As much as he wanted to hear her say them, he knew it wasn't the right time for them. Hearing the actual confirmation of what he already suspected would make being apart from her even harder. ""Don't do that. Not now," Juice cut her off quickly. "It'll just make things harder."

She smiled slightly, nodding in understanding as she leant forward to kiss him. "That's what he said."

Juice grinned at her, relieved that she wasn't hurt over his interruption. He grabbed her chin in his hand and gave her one last, hard kiss. "Be good, Angel. I'll see you on the other side."

Angela nodded, sucking in a shaky breath as she tried to pull herself together. She headed over to where Happy was standing seeing that it was where Tara and Gemma were heading. Happy set a hand on her shoulder. "Stay strong, kid," he muttered, squeezing her shoulder.

She nodded again. "Right," she said, sucking in a deep breath as she pushed away her worry and fear for the time being. She knew those feelings would resurface eventually, but as long as she maintained a calm composure at that moment, she really didn't give a shit. She needed to be strong now for her boys. Lifting her chin, she regained her composure and stood strong among the other Old Ladies.

Lyla came out of nowhere, linking her arm with Angela's as they watched Juice and Tig bring out the infamous "Jimmy" she'd been hearing so much about. Angela didn't know who the man was, but he sounded Irish which led her to believe he had something to do with Abel's kidnapping.

Then Stahl announced that she'd received the information from Jax and all hell broke loose. This was the "shit" Juice had been talking about. Angela forced herself to stay back as she watched the boys start to surround Jax, screaming and yelling at him as the feds started to cuff them. She watched as Tara threw her arms around Jax, giving him one last hug before the feds pushed him against the cop car.

Slowly, Angela walked past Gemma and Lyla, going to stand next to Tara. She set a hand on the doctor's back as a silent show of support. Tara nodded to her, surprisingly calm with everything that was going on. Angela wondered how much she knew of the club's plan, if she knew that Jax wasn't a true rat. That the club had planned it all along.

"Your clients will be out in three years. If they don't kill anyone, parole in fourteen months," Stahl said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear as she handed the blue folder off to the club's lawyer.

Angela locked eyes with Juice as he chanced a glance at her over his shoulder. He gave her a reassuring nod, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. She nodded back wishing like hell she could have given him one last hug, one last kiss.

One by one, the feds shoved them into the big black transport van. Her heart sunk low in her chest as she watched load Juice in last. Tears blurred her vision, distorting the image of the feds putting latching his cuffs on. As they closed the doors behind them, she managed to meet his eyes one more time. Pressing her hand to her lips, she discreetly blew him a kiss. He nodded once in return and then he was gone.

Angela knocked on the door of Jax and Tara's house. It took a minute before Tara answered the door, a laundry basket balanced on her hip. "Hey Ang," she greeted, stepping aside to let her in. "You all right?"

She shrugged a shoulder in answer. "I'm dealin'. You?"

"Trying to keep myself busy," Tara replied, gesturing to the laundry basket in her hand. "Need some drugs?"

Angela smirked as she nodded. "Yes please," she said, following Tara back towards the bathroom.

Opening the medicine cabinet, Tara handed Angela her small bottle of Vicodin. "Knock yourself out," the doctor said. Angela raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on her face which quickly had Tara backpedaling. "Not literally, Angie. You know what I mean."

"Got it, doc," Angela said taking the bottle and shaking out two of the white pills. Tara left to finish gathering the laundry leaving Angela standing there in front of the little mirror. She studied her tired reflection wondering if she really looked that haggard, that tired. "Shit," she murmured, tossing back the pills and swallowing them with some water from the sink. She splashed some water in her face before pulling out her braid and redoing it trying to look somewhat normal. It didn't help very much.

Sighing, she headed out of the bathroom and into the hallway. "Tara?" she called, wondering which direction she should head.

"In here," the doctor's voice called back from Abel's room.

Angela made her way into the room where Tara was sitting with a bundle of letters in her lap. "What're those?" she asked, lying down on the futon next to the rocking chair.

Tara showed her the envelopes. "Just…letters. From Jax's dad to his Irish mistress."

The undertaker propped herself up on her elbows, looking at the closed envelopes that looked yellow with age. "Ooh scandalous," Angela teased, wiggling her eyebrows at Tara who laughed in response.

"I found them in Jax's bag," she explained, rifling through them curiously. "Not sure if I should read them or not."

"Up to you," Angela said around a yawn as she set her head down on her arms. The pills were making her a little sleepy and combined with her lack of sleep and how comfortable she was lying stretched out on the futon; she was struggling to stay awake.

"Gemma would."

"Did you just ask yourself what would Gemma do?" Angela asked around a sleepy laugh. "I thought it was supposed to be what would Jesus do?"

Tara shrugged a shoulder as she carefully opened the envelope. "I think in this case, Gemma's more appropriate."

She nodded. "Agreed."

"You want to listen?" the doctor asked, an eyebrow raised.

Angela remembered Happy's warning to stay out of "Old Lady shit" and shook her head. Whatever was in those letters was private stuff for only the Teller family to know about, but she was so comfortable on that futon, she didn't want to move. "I'm good, thanks. I'll keep you company though. You can give me the Cliffnotes version after."

"You just want to hear the juicy stuff, huh?"

"Big fan of the Juice," Angela murmured, smiling slightly at the double meaning. She groaned as the doorbell rang. "I got it."

Tara gave her a confused look. "Ang, it's my house."

The undertaker shook her head, standing up slowly and reaching into her sweatshirt to pull the Glock free from its holster. "Yeah, but I got a gun."

"Fair enough."

Angela checked the door and smirked when she saw the prospects standing outside. Undoing the locks, she opened it quickly, leveling the gun at Miles' chest. Miles' eyes widened as he held his hands up. "Woah! Easy there, Angie! We just…need to talk to Tara."

She laughed, lowering the gun and tucking it back into its holster. "I figured. She's in Abel's room," she said moving inside so they could walk past her. "Hi Phil!" she chirped, biting back a laugh at his nervous nod. Phil was a little nervous around the club's girlfriends and Old Ladies. He hadn't really gotten a handle on what was appropriate and what wasn't.

"Hey Angie," he replied softly as he followed Miles over to the bedroom.

They both hesitated at the closed door; Angela had closed it on instinct when she walked out. Good thing too because she was sure the boys would be better off not knowing about the letters Tara had. She knocked on the door. "T, the prospects are here to see you," she shouted through the wood.

There was some ruffling noises before Tara shouted for them to come in. Angela opened the door, going over to the futon again and laying down across it on a sigh. She could feel the letters hidden under the blanket and made sure to cover them with her body. "What do you need boys?" Tara asked them.

"Jax wanted us to give this to you," Miles stated pulling a letter from his cut and handing it over to Tara.

"Thank you," Tara said, smiling at the familiar handwriting. The boys stood awkwardly by the door as if they were waiting to be dismissed. "Is that all?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Unless you need us for something."

"You know, I think we're good here," she replied, eager to get back to the other, older letters.

"All right. See you later," Miles said on a nod as he backed out of the room. "Bye, Ang."

Angela gave him a two fingered wave before burying her head back into her crossed arms. Once she heard the front door closed, she lifted herself off the letters and handed them over to Tara. "Nice hiding spot," she said before sinking back down into the futon.

"I improvised," Tara said on a shrug. Her fingers traced over her name on the envelope she'd just been given. "I miss him already."

Angela sighed. She knew exactly how the other woman was feeling. Juice had only been gone for a few hours, but she already felt his absence. "Yeah," she agreed on a sigh. "We'll be all right though. We're strong women."

"Daughters of Disorder, right?" Tara teased as she slid her finger under the envelope to open it.

She smiled at that one as she nodded. "Hell yeah," she agreed around another yawn. "Staying strong while our boys are gone."

So? Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in a review! :)

I'm going to do one or two chapters of their time in jail using a some of the information given in the app and on the Season 3 DVD and just some fun things that my crazy brain thinks of. If there's something specific you'd like to see, let me know and I can try to work it in if I think it'll gel well with the story! ;)

Coming up next: Jail time!

~Love Ink