Tara doesn't realize that as the days get longer and hotter, Shea makes more and more sense. Tara had declared war on Gemma, and it's never more apparent than all the stares and dirty looks she receives. She tries to keep a mask on, be indifferent and aloof, but it's hard, especially when Gemma can turn so much of the town against her.

It's easier when she's got Jax, Donna, Opie, and Shea, even if it's exhausting to try to keep up with all of them. Jax and Shea feed off of each other, spurring each other to new heights of recklessness. Trying to keep them alive is a full-time task in and of itself. Shea requires constant activity and Jax provides it, leaving Tara scrambling in their wake, wondering what ramp they're launching scooters off of or if the trail of smoke in the sky is from them exploding something.

Worst is the parties. Tara has become accustomed to bailing them out of jail, blinking sleepy eyes and waving to Unser as he shuffles Jax and Shea, and occasionally Opie, to her waiting car. They can't stay out of trouble, snorting and giggling in the backseat as Tara navigates the dark streets home. But it's her they call, not Gemma, so she takes her small victories and stays quiet about them. The days of her calling Gemma when Jax gets taken to jail have long since passed.

Although, she reflects, watching Shea and Jax snort over a barely concealed flask, it might be nice sometimes to pass them off on someone else for five minutes.

"Being subtle isn't really their strong suit is it?" Donna mutters, reclining on the blanket next to Tara.

"It is not." Tara agrees, then waves for them to come sit. They collapse next to her, Jax pulling her in for a sloppy kiss.

"This is where I fell in love with you." He declares and Tara looks over the blanket and people, the smell of grass and popcorn, the darkening sky and the impending fireworks.

"Me too baby." She kisses him, tasting the whiskey but not caring.

"Gross." Shea complains, even as she makes herself comfy between the two couples. "Why do I have so many straight friends?"

"Because you come from a small town and refuse to stop annoying us." Opie deadpans and Shea flicks him in the ear then steals some of the popcorn.

"Don't be a party pooper Opie." She mumbles and he rolls his eyes, scooting Donna closer to him and turning his eyes skyward, waiting expectantly for the fireworks to start.

When they do, Tara leans back and rests her head on Jax's chest, humming in appreciation when he threads his fingers in her hair and gently starts tugging out the knots. She watches the explosions, smiling to herself when she reflects on how nice it is to watch fireworks instead of worrying about who's going to die when something goes wrong.

Jax presses kisses to the top of her head occasionally and they all ooh and ahh as the fireworks explode over them. Even Shea stays still for the majority of the show, eyes wide as she takes in the explosions. When the finale begins, Tara can't help but squeak and put her hands over her ears at the noise. Jax laughs, gathering her up in his arms.

"They seemed bigger when we were kids." Donna comments, when the last embers falls and the noise of a murmuring crowd rushes in to fill the silence.

"You were smaller." Opie reminds her, kissing her head.

"Not by much." Jax teases and Donna swats at him affectionately.

"So I'm short, find something new to give me shit about Teller."

"How about how you can't hold your liquor?" He tries and her eyes glint.

"It's a lie and you know it." She boasts.

"Alright then, first one to puke tonight wins." Shea declares.

"No!" Opie and Tara intervene in tandem.

"You guys never let us have any fun." Shea pouts.

"Only because we don't want you to die." Opie pats her arm sympathetically. "We're such awful humans."

"Doesn't matter, I'll just get drunk anyways." Shea bounds past them to the waiting truck. "And last one buzzed is a wimp!"

"You know she's going to be the death of us, right?" Tara asks Jax calmly.

"Yes, but what a death it'll be." Jax says poetically and Tara laughs, sliding into the backseat.

For once, the party isn't held at the cabin- it's in a big field outside of Charming, where police can't bust them and neighbors can't overhear them. Of course, that means the party has spilled out of a confined space, and two large bonfires are already blazing, trucks pulled around them, kids stumbling back and forth, laughing.

Shea is gone in the blink of an eye and they don't bother to try to call her back. It's useless, so instead they make drinks and lower the truck gate, hopping on and swinging their feet, watching the crowd. It's a mix of high school students and older adults, kids back for the summer. Donna keeps smugly reminding everyone that she and Tara are seniors now, though Tara isn't sure why that matters.

The boys venture off after a little bit, going to visit with people, Jax talking animatedly and Opie quiet behind him. Donna and Tara sit in the bed of the truck, talking and gossiping, nudging each other when some of particular interest happens. They're discussing Katie and Wyatt disappearing off into the woods together when Shea's face pops up over the rim of the truck.

"Hey." Tara grins and bops Shea's nose. "Hey you."

"Are you drunk?" Shea asks without preamble and Tara grins languidly, shrugging.

"I haven't stood up yet." She realizes. "So I don't know how drunk I am."

"Well, you're about to find out." Shea snorts. "Jax and Op want you two to come meet someone."

"Oh boy. Help, help, help." Tara holds her hand out and Shea obligingly guides her out of the truck, raising an eyebrow when Tara stumbles against her.

"She's fine." Donna says bracingly, slipping an arm around her waist and grinning at Shea. "Lead the way."

"You're an adorable, tiny lightweight." Shea says affectionately, petting Tara's hair. "You little child."

"Shush." Tara glares, finding her footing and standing up with a little more confidence. "I'm fine."

"Yes, you're about as fine as a tiny kitten outside in a hurricane." Shea compensates for Tara's weight by jutting a hip out, shaking her head. They make their way to the boys like a bizarre 6 legged race, and once they reach them, Shea unceremoniously transfers Tara to Jax.

"Whoa." He catches Tara's elbow before she can sway dangerously to the left. "Someone have too much too drink?"

"Nope." Tara gives his a peck on the cheek. "Just blurry."

"Blurry." He repeats, amused. "Ok, Ms. Blurry, meet our friend Jorge."

"Hello." Tara says brightly, offering her hand to the short seat man, who also wears a kutte and has a magnificent handlebar mustache.

"Hi." He seems amused by her.

"And this my girlfriend, Donna." Opie gestures to Donna, who steps forward with a smile and shakes his hand.

"Hi, nice to meet you."

"And our friend, Shea." Jax says, but Shea has narrowed eyes and doesn't extend her hand.

"Hello." She says shortly then looks at Jax. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"We're friends, Shea." Jax says pointedly. "Good friends. Be nice to our friends."

"Friends need drinks." Shea declares, stomping away and Tara and Donna exchange looks, eyebrows raised, but don't say anything. The boys keep firm grips around their waists as they talk to Jorge about bikes and such. Tara sobers up a little bit, until Shea comes back with a strong drink. She sticks close to them, quiet, occasionally glancing at Jorge like she expects him to attack.

"Hey, I have to go to the bathroom." Tara mutters to Donna and Shea leaps up.

"We'll be right back." She assures them, catching Tara's elbow and steering her towards the woods.

"I hate peeing outside." Tara complains.

"Shush." Donna pats her head then looks at Shea. "What was up with that back there?"

"What?" Shea asks innocently, pushing Tara behind a tree so she can squat.

"You acted like Jax put a gun to your head and threatened to pull the trigger." Donna narrows her eyes. "What? Why are you so on edge?"

"That guy back there, he's prospecting for the Mayans." Shea explains. "And it seems your cute little boyfriends are forgetting the fact that we were at war with them. A war that cost us lives!"

"What?" Donna demands, astonished.

"What, you think that bikers live to an old age and pass away quietly in their sleep?" Shea snorts. "That doesn't happen."

"People died?" Tara emerges from behind the tree, eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah." Shea bites her lip, like she's said too much. "Look, I was just surprised. Obviously Jax and Opie know what they're doing. Maybe Clay's using the new blood to smooth over some of that shit. Forget I said anything."

"Sometimes I forget all the shit that happens that they just don't tell us." Donna shakes her head. "Like, we just don't get to know about it."

"They think it's for the best." Shea explains, as they wander back to the party. "Think that they're protecting you and stuff. In their minds, at least."

"I hate secrets." Tara mutters, shaking her head.

"These aren't bad secrets to be kept from." Shea steals a beer from an open cooler. "Trust me."

"Hey darling." Jax greets her with open arms and kiss. Tara slides into them comfortably and settles in, content. She sobers up by watching them interact with Jorge, eyes narrowed. Part of her thinks that Shea is being overdramatic, because they're kids. They're just kids. There can't be war in Charming, and especially not with Jax. He's too good, too perfect. The idea of Jax killing someone isn't something that she can even conjure.

"I'm sleepy." She declares suddenly and Jax looks down at her, amused.

"Yeah?" He kisses her head. "Want to go home soon?"

"Sure." Tara snuggles into his chest. They don't have more than a second, before someone goes sprinting past them, screeching,

"COPS!"

Blue and red lights flood the field, sirens wailing, and there's yelling and cussing as kids scatter, trying to avoid the crush of police officers surrounding them on all sides.

"C'mon!" Jax catches Tara's hand and drags her away, Donna, Opie, and Jorge right behind them. Tara's not sure why they run, not really, because it's not like they would be in trouble if they got caught anyways, but Jax is grinning and Opie is whooping and Donna is bright eyed and breathless and she knows the adrenaline rush is the best part, so she grins and runs with them.

"Here!" Jorge skids to a stop, looking at a truck on the edge of the party. It's dirty and rusted, but the keys are in the ignition and with a squeal, the girls are tossed unceremoniously into the front seat. Jorge gets behind the wheel and with gravel spinning, they peel away from the excitement.

"Who's truck is this?" Donna asks, once they're on the main road.

"Fuck if I know." Jorge laughs.

"Did we steal this?" Tara asks, after a pause.

"Borrowed, temporarily." Jorge assures her, as Jax snickers. "We'll be sure to return it, just… At a later time."

"Grand theft auto." Tara is suddenly bubbling with laughter. "That's so much worse than a drinking citation."

"You had to say something." Opie groans, when the telltale lights flash behind them.

"We could make a run for it." Jorge suggests, pressure on the gas increasing just slightly. Their looks make him roll his eyes and release his foot, easing to a stop on the side of the road. There's some shuffling, as they try to arrange themselves neatly with 5 people squishing into the front seat, Tara and Donna still mostly on Jax and Opie's laps.

"Are we going to be arrested?" Donna wonders, as the flashlight appears in the window and Jorge slowly rolls it down.

"Jesus Christ boys." Unser sounds beyond exasperated.

"Oh, hey." Jax grins at him. "How come you're not out there, rounding up all the naughty hooligans?"

"I'm too old for that shit." Unser complains. "Besides, someone has to stop the hooligans smart enough to steal a truck and drive away."

"Steal?" Jax feigns extravagant innocent. "No, this is his truck." He points to Jorge, who grins.

"Is it." Unser deadpans. "Son, is this your car?"

"Lo siento, yo no hablo ingles." Jorge says quickly and Unser's lips threaten to twitch up into a smile.

"Sure you don't. License and registration then hombre." He orders and Jorge blinks. "Papeles, idioto."

"Rude. And racist." Jorge accuses and Unser shakes his head to hide the fact he's grinning.

"Get in the car, all of you." He orders. "I've got to take you down to the station."

"What for?" Jax asks curiously, helping Tara out of the truck.

"I don't know." Unser sighs as though beyond annoyed. "Possession of stolen property."

"Can it be grand theft auto? That'd really impress everyone." Opie comments and Donna hits him in the chest, rolling her eyes.

"Just for you, Op." He promises, then gives Jax a baleful look when he slides into the front seat of the cruiser.

"What?" Jax grins. "We can't all fit into the back. Can I turn on the siren like I did when I was a kid?"

"No, you may not."

When they get to the police station, the holding cells are already filled with fellow partygoers, waiting for parents to pick them up and scold them. Tara, Jax, Opie, and Donna lounge in a cell, explaining who's who to Jorge.

"Wait." Tara looks around in alarm. "Where's Shea?"

"Oh hey losers." Shea grins at them, appearing with Unser.

"How come you didn't arrest her?" Jax complains.

"She didn't steal a car like you idiots." Unser says flatly. "And she's sober."

"Bail us out." Jax orders.

"Eh." Shea shrugs. "I think they might have donuts here. I think I'll hang around a little bit."

"Sometimes you're the devil incarnate, do you know that?" Opie asks and she laughs, blowing him a kiss.

"Honestly, yes." She struts away and Tara arranges her head more comfortably on Jax's chest.

"At least she knows." She says thoughtfully then closes her eyes and relaxes.

AN: As I've finished a season over in CLM, I will be taking a break next week, then back to our regularly scheduled antics. Reviews to tide me over?