I am the worst. But you won't have to put up with my shitty schedule for much longer. We're coming to the end guys.

She's sitting in bed as he comes in from putting the boys to bed. He shoots her a smile as he pulls his shirt over his head and tilts his head towards the en-suite bathroom. "I'm going to shower. You want to join me?"

It's a tempting offer, but she shakes her head. "I don't have the energy to get up. Leave the door open though. I can appreciate the view from here." Jax's laugh is wicked as he drops his jeans and disappears in all of his naked glory. With a smile, Tara turns back to the baby names book propped against her belly. Sometime later Jax reemerges, his damp hair pushed back with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

"What's that?" he asks, nodding at the book as he climbs onto the bed. The towel unwinds and if she wasn't ready to pop out the kid, she would totally be taking advantage of the situation right now.

"A baby name book."

"Let me see." Jax takes the book before she can protest, but she snuggles up to his side as best as she can. "No weird names."

"Harley," Jax says instantly.

"We're not naming the baby after a bike Jax," Tara says patiently.

"Hannah. Hayley." Tara hums non committedly. She hears him flip through the book, but she knows it's not going to do any good. "Maybe we can just not name her and then she can decide when she's old enough?"

Jax looks at her sideways. "She'd call herself Britney or some shit. What about Amy?"

"Too common. There will be like 18 kids with the same name in her class."

Jax snorts. "Ursula?"

"That is not in there!" Tara says incredulously.

"I think it's a lovely name. With a name like Ursula she will rule the playground."

"Alright that's enough baby names for one night," Tara snaps as she snatches the book out of Jax's hands and chucks it across the room. It only makes him laugh harder as he presses a kiss to her temple, muttering in her ear that baby Ursula takes after her mother. It earns him a kick in the shin, but the bastard only laughs harder.

They don't have a baby shower. It's tacky and cheesy, and quite honestly she would rather spend an afternoon with Tig and Chibs than the few women she actually considers friends. They have no need for gifts and she really doesn't want to make a big deal out of this.

Still, she forces a smile on her lips when Margaret comes knocking at her door one afternoon with a baby hamper from her colleagues. She can almost feel Margaret's disapproval but Tara thanks her sweetly and offers her some lemonade like any other good homemaker despite her desire to chuck a glass at the woman's face. She's still pretty bitter that the older woman turned her back on her so easily during a time when Tara truly needed her. Tara's smile is frosty as the woman declines, pleading that she has to get back to the hospital.

After that, there's a steady string of women turning up at her door. They're mostly Old Ladies whose husbands are inside or dead, but she gets more than a few croweaters turning up with baskets of toys and gift cards. She questions Jax about it eventually as he's in the middle of trying on a baby carrier that Opie's mom gave them, but he just looks at her blankly and replies, "I can get them to stop if you want." She declines of course, not wanting to seem like a stuck up bitch when they have been nothing but kind - to her face at least.

But she's so ready for all of this to be over and done with when the next knock at the door comes. Jax has taken the boys out for the day, and though it is not often she enjoys being separated from them, she is in dire need of some peace from her three guys before a screaming newborn is brought into their lives.

Lyla's standing at her door with an almost shy smile with a bottle of gin gripped in her hand and a gift bag in the other. Tara raises an eyebrow and nods at the bottle. "You know I can't drink that right?"

Rolling her eyes, Lyla hands her the bottle and promptly pushes past Tara, her ridiculously high heels clicking against the wooden floor as she heads to the kitchen like she owns the place. "I figured that you had enough crap for the baby. I thought that you'd like something for you."

Touched, Tara follows after her. "Don't worry. I'm not staying long, I've got to pick up my kid. I don't know if you drink gin, but I figured that Jax won't touch it so it's safe for a couple of months," Lyla says, tossing a grin over her shoulder as she opens the refrigerator and pulling out a carton of orange juice.

"Thanks," Tara says softly, still slightly bewildered. See, the thing is, she actually quite likes the girl. Despite her career choices, Tara respects her for doing what she has to do to look after her kid and now Opie's too, and she will always remember her fondly for the slap she gave Ima when she slept with Jax. But they have never really been the kind of friends that go for a drink or turn up at the other's houses unexpectedly, and that mostly Tara's fault for being a judgemental bitch when they first met. Since Opie's death, Lyla's kept her distance from the clubhouse, not that she could blame her. But as the days have gone by, Tara has found herself missing the other girl. During the year the Jax was inside, Lyla and Gemma had both been a constant presence in her life, and she's ready to admit that she's missed them.

Not that she would ever tell Gemma of course.

She opens the bag on the table and almost moans as she sees her favorite box of chocolate, a bottle of wine and the latest J.D Robb book. She eyes a gift card for Victoria's Secret and meets Lyla's amused eyes. "Just because you're a mom of three doesn't mean that you can't have sexy lingerie."

Tara laughs. "Did Jax put you up to this?"

Lyla smirks as she hands her a glass of orange juice. "I'm sure that Jax will appreciate it, but no. I asked him if there was anything in particular you guys needed, and he said that you have so much shit around here you're ready to chuck it out. So I thought you might enjoy something for yourself."

"Thank you. Really," Tara says as she takes a seat at the kitchen table. "I have seven SAMCRO mobiles and so many toys and clothes. The kid is never going to wear them all. I can't even go by an hour without someone coming around bearing gifts. I don't even know half of them."

"Why are you so surprised?"

"I'm not Gemma. I don't hold dinners for them, hell, I barely talk to them."

Lyla snorts. "You're the only Old Lady left Tara, and I really doubt any of those guys are about to settle down anytime soon. You're Jax's Old Lady, and that means something to those girls. He maybe the Prince of Charming, but you're Queen now. These women need someone to follow, and they expect you to hold court now and again."

Looking at her incredulously, Tara replies, "They despise me, and with all of those girls trying to get into Jax's pants over the years, the feelings mutual." She doesn't even want to think about how many of those girls has entertained Jax for a night, but she knows that her daughter is not going to be playing with any of the shit that those women have bought. The thought makes her want to puke.

"Are you kidding? You pretty much staked your claim when you broke Colette's nose. It doesn't matter if they hate you. They respect you, and unless they're asked, they won't go near Jax now." Lyla softens for a moment and smiles almost sadly as she looks down at her hands. "You don't have to worry about that though. Every girl in Charming knows that there's no chance of Jax straying from you. You only have to look at him to know how much he adores you."

Tara's throat feels inexplicably tight. She's never been a good source of comfort, but she swallows down her discomfort and places a hand over Lyla's. Judging by the shaky smile Lyla shoots her way, it's enough. She thinks about telling her that Opie loved her too, enough to put a ring on her finger anyway, but she's sure that Lyla has been told all of that before and doesn't need to hear it from her.

"And what of you?"

"Me?"

"I've seen a fair few guys panting after you when you walk down the street. Surely some of them have the nerve to ask you out?"

Lyla blushes, and it's such an innocent reaction given her job that it makes Tara smile. "Well yes, but it's so soon after Ope and I have my kid and Opie's-"

Tara smiles wickedly. "Just because you're a mother doesn't mean you can't have a good time Lyla. Besides," she continues a bit more gently. "Opie wouldn't want you to waste away. He'd want you to move on."

Tears spring into the other girl's eyes, and just when Tara thinks that she's gone too far and that she's going to have to let Lyla cry on her shoulder, Lyla whispers, "You don't think it's too soon?"

She's hardly the person to come to for relationship advice. What the fuck does she know about moving on from a man? She spent ten years pining after her high school sweetheart. "Only you can know that. Nobody can tell you when to move on. Don't hold out because of guilt. Opie would never forgive himself if you weren't happy because of him. It can take months or it can take years, but don't give up just yet."

Lyla blinks away her tears, and though her smile is a little sad, she squeezes Tara's hand gratefully. "Thank you." She get's up to leave, and though she still feels a little awkward, Tara realises with a pang of surprise that she's kind of enjoyed having the other girl here. With promises to share the bottle of gin, Lyla leaves, and Tara sits down with her new book and passes a few hours by reading. It's only when the baby nudges her with a sharp reminder that it's lunchtime does she stop and goes to the kitchen to make the grilled cheese that she's been craving since 3am this morning.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupts her as she sits down at the kitchen table and before she can even take the first bite of her grilled cheese. Looking down longingly at her lunch, Tara considers ignoring it but the doorbell rings again insistently. With a muttered curse, Tara heaves herself out of the chair and waddling - yes, even she has to admit that her walk has turned into a waddle, much to Jax's amusement - her thoughts still on the grilled cheese that she has been fantasising about for the past nine hours. She's taken by surprise when finally gets to the door only to see an uncomfortable looking Juice standing on her porch with his hand raised to ring the doorbell again.

"Sorry," the biker mutters, shoving his hands into his jeans and shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

Pasting on a smile, Tara wonders what has brought this particular biker to her house in the middle of the day. She swallows down her irritation at being disturbed on what is possibly going to be her last day of solitude for the foreseeable future.

"Hey," Tara says when it's clear Juice isn't going to say anything more. He can barely look her in the eye for longer than a few seconds. "If you're looking for Jax-"

"I'm not here for Jax," Juice interrupts. His eyes linger on her belly, and she sees what little color he has in his face drain away. "I came because-fuck this is so messed up. Can we talk?" he asks.

He looks terrible. Unusually pale, bloodshot eyes and an alarming loss of weight since she last saw him in the clubhouse two weeks ago. With any other person she would have considered the cause to be drugs, but she knows that Juice is no junkie. No, she's certain it's all down to lack of sleep and food. And the club. She's pretty sure that everything he has done has finally caught up to him, and he's at his breaking point.

Juice has made his own bed at this point, but it doesn't mean that she's pleased to see him like this. She has never been close to the man, although she had once felt a fondness for the man who had once worn an easy smile on his face and tried so hard to please his brothers.

It still doesn't explain why he's standing at her door asking to talk, and every cell in her body is telling her to turn him away. Swallowing back her unease, Tara opens the door wider and steps aside to let him in. He pauses uncertainly in the hallway, his lifeless eyes taking in the newly hung pictures on the walls. Remaining silent, he follows her through to the kitchen and declines her offer of coffee. "I would offer you something stronger, but there's not much alcohol in the house these days."

Leading him into the kitchen, Tara takes her seat at the table and nods at the chair opposite her. The scrape of the chair across the tiled floor resonates through the entire house, and when he finally sits down, Juice's eyes do not flicker from her. Swallowing back her growing irritation, Tara "How are you doing Juice?"

Eyes flashing with surprise, Juice looks at her for a long moment and then laughs bitterly. She wonders how long it's been since someone has asked him such a simple question and genuinely cared about his answer. Juice runs a nervous hand over his head. "You have no idea."

Long gone is the boy with a goofy smile desperate to please his brothers. She privately wonders what has happened to him to make him so serious and swallows down the guilt that eats away at her for not paying him much attention over the years.

When she realises that he's not going to talk anytime soon, with a heavy sigh, Tara gestures to her grilled cheese. "Do you mind?" she asks politely. Juice shakes his head. When she finally takes her first bite, she closes her eyes in satisfaction and if she were alone she would be moaning in pleasure. She pays Juice no mind, allowing him to gather his thoughts. He's come here for a reason, and she has no place to be anytime soon.

He's still silent by the time she's finished, but as she gets up to put the plate in the dishwasher, she notices Juice staring at her stomach looking as though he's about to puke and she knows that she's made a huge mistake letting this man inside of her house. Eyeing the knife she used to cut her grilled cheese, Tara's hands do not shake as she turns back around to face him. She leans back against the kitchen counter, making sure that her fingers are inches away from the knife.

Shooting him a bland smile, Tara casually asks, "Are you here to kill me Juice?"