*Disclaimer: All characters taken from Sons of Anarchy were created by Kurt Sutter/FX. I do not claim ownership over those characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only. Quoted song is bold and italicized, "Take It All" by Adele. And we are disclaimed.*

Maybe you got too used to
Well, having me around.
Still how can you walk away
From all my tears?
It's gonna be an empty road
Without me right here.
But go on and take it,
Take it all with you.
Don't look back
At this crumbling fool.
Just take it all
With my love,
Take it all
With my love.

Tara had heard that promise before, in a hushed whisper of warm breath on her neck. She had believed it then, smiled wide in the dark. But, fourteen years had passed since that night. The girl she was then wouldn't recognize the woman she is now. And she couldn't allow herself to hope that the man she held onto now could promise more than the boy she once loved.

She took a step back, disentangling her arms from him. She needed the physical space between them to increase, making it easier to ignore the pinched feeling in her heart. For his part, Jax Teller felt lighter than he had in weeks; she was stepping away from him now, but she had embraced him first.

"I've hear that before," she muttered as she wrapped her arms around herself. He glanced up to meet her gaze, and could see the old hurt return to her eyes. He ran his hands over his face roughly.

"Tara." How he still said her name with that certain reverence, even after all this time, caused her breath to hitch in her throat just slightly.

"Jackson." The sharp syllables made him wince slightly. The last few hours he spent with her had been filled with tight-lipped conversations, angry tears, and disappointment. A part of him had hoped that the passage of so many years between then and now would have soothed her fight, but who was he kidding? This was Tara. His Tara.

"Look, let's talk." Her glare was fierce, and her mouth pursed in a curve he found both terrifying and startlingly erotic. This wasn't going to be easy. "Just give me a chance to explain. There's been…" he paused for a moment, trying to find the right words, the words that would convince her to hear him. "There's been..." he exhaled heavily, "a lot of shit going on. Bad shit. I thought I could turn it around, bring SAMCRO legit. Op's dead, Tara. I just…please. Tara." He reached out a hand to balance himself on Margie's desk. His head hung, shoulders slumped over slightly, and Tara couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Jax Teller look so small.

"I need to send my secretary home," she said resolutely, "and then I need to get home." He lifted his chin to look at her and was surprised to see her stance had relaxed. "I want to hear this, Jax. I want to hear all of it." And with that, she turned quickly on her heel and headed back through the door she had first appeared.

Margie sat on the couch in Tara's office, twisting her hands together nervously. When the nob turned, so did her attention as Tara gave her a small, apologetic smile. She closed the door behind her softly and came to sit beside her still concerned secretary. "I need a favor Marge, most important one I've ever asked of you," she paused, taking one of Margie's hands in her own, "and I know I've asked a lot."

"Tara, are you in some kind of trouble? You can tell me, you know. We've been through it together for a while now, my dear." Margie's face was awash in anxiety, but Tara was calm as she shook her heard slowly. "I'm not in trouble, Marge. You don't need to worry. But I need a favor. I need you to forget the man standing in our waiting room. Forget what he looks like. Forget that he asked for me. Forget that we had this conversation." Margie's eyes widened as Tara's grip on her hand tightened.

Margie swallowed hard, "is he…?"

"Yes. Can you do that for me, Marge? Please. For us."

When Tara emerged again, she was followed by the woman Jax assumed was the secretary, and who wore a strange look of bewilderment and horror on her face. He couldn't imagine what their conversation had been, but he had seen Tara silence more formidable opponents before. Despite her tenderness and the vulnerability he knew she possessed, when it came down to her core, Tara would always be more bite than bark.

Tara stood aside as Margie moved toward her desk, collecting her purse and lunchbag from the bottom drawer. She looked back at Tara, who wore the same calm smile. Margie shook her head slightly, and walked past Jax without giving him a second look.

"Nice lady," Jax said as he watched through the window front as Margie crossed to her car. Margie turned back only once, her eyes holding his gaze, a harsh scowl forming on her face. He gave her a small wave and she turned her back to him. He watched her get into her car and drive out into the night. Her look bothered him, made him feel uneasy, maybe even guilty.

"She is a nice lady." Tara's voice pulled him from his thoughts and he turned back to face her. "Marge and I have worked together for almost five years here, but we met in while I was in college. She's a retired nurse, worked in the health center. She helped me open this place, was there for every step, literally. I don't know where I'd be without Marge, to be honest." A smile played across her face briefly, and he watched as she remembered the woman with fondness. He felt the cold return to him briefly, the heaviness of memory. He wondered if she smiled when she remembered him, too.

"We still need to talk, Tara." He cursed himself inwardly for the pleading he heard as his voice escaped.

"I think you should come home with me."