Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters do not belong to me, nor does Sons of Anarchy.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Tara laughed, lying on her stomach and holding Jax's hand.
He grinned, lifting her hand and giving the back of it a loud smacking kiss. "Believe it, doll. You're mine. Might as well prove it."
"Barbarian," she shot back, eyes twinkling.
"Of course," he sing-songed, nodding to the tattoo artist that they were ready.
She buried her head in her free arm. "Oh man, oh man, Jax. I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
"Kinda ironic," Jax remarked, watching as the man readied the gun over Tara's pale back. "A future doctor who's afraid of needles."
"Shut up Jackson."
He felt her tense suddenly as she felt the tip, and he smoothed her hair back from where it was spilling over her cheek. "Hey, chill, okay? It's not that bad, and it'll be over before you know it."
"King of assurances," she stated dryly, gripping his hand tightly.
"Always," he saw the first line of ink slowly appear on her back, and he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "You're mine, Knowles."
She smiled back, the lines of tension around her eyes fading somewhat. "Always," she whispered back.
Shortest drabble yet. Yay.
Thanks for the reviews, and prompts are welcomed and acknowledged.