Tim heard the alarm on his phone go off, wishing he could just ignore it. The sun was peaking out from Tara's bedroom window. She was still asleep beside him, and he couldn't stop staring.

"Can you tell your phone to stop?" He heard her say without opening her eyes.

He smiled and removed the covers to retrieve his phone from his jeans pocket. Tim knew he would have to leave for work soon, so he went ahead and put his boxers and jeans back on. He heard Tara sit up from the bed and turned around, seeing the back of sitting on the other side of the bed. His eyes moved to her lower back, seeing the black crow tattoo. He couldn't say that was what he paid attention to last night.

"I can feel you staring," Tara said as she got up and walked to the dresser across her bed. "Aren't you going to ask me about it?"

"Not if you don't want me to," He said, watching her grab underwear and an oversized shirt from the top drawer.

"Remember how I told you I'm from California?" She spoke while dressing herself. "I was involved with some really bad people there. I was the ultimate cliché of a rebellious teenager. But that shit's behind me. Literally," Tara gave a small laugh to herself at her last sentence.

"That's not the part of your body I was focused on, doc," Tim said as he placed a hand on her cheek and kissed her. He rested his forehead on hers and smiled. "By the way, your face is healing up real nice."

Tara playfully hit him and walked out of the room. "You want some coffee?"

"I'm actually about to head out. Uncle Sam calls," Tim answered as he grabbed his shirt from the hall, putting it on and buttoning it up. He put on his shoes and followed her to the kitchen.

"I'm a true patriot, I can't keep you from your work," Tara finished pouring water in the machine and turned it on, then turned herself around to face Tim.

"When can I see you again?" Tim asked.

"How about tonight?" Tara said as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Works for me. I'll call you," he said as she kissed her once more before walking out the door.

Tim sat at his desk and tried focusing on the paperwork for his last case. He was furious with himself for thinking about Tara's tattoo again, curious of what bad shit she was involved with. The more he thought about it, he thought it could be gang related.

"Raylan," Tim turned his chair in the marshal's direction.

"Hmm?" Raylan kept his eye on his monitor, barely acknowledging Tim. It seemed the generous attitude was long gone.

"Have you ever seen a gang that has crows as a symbol?"

"No, don't think so. There was one in Florida, real nasty guys. Their symbol was a skull though, or something like that. I remember the ladies there having tattoos of crows."

"Remember the name?"

"Nope."

"Always the helpful one, Raylan."

Don't do it, man. It doesn't matter.

Before he was even fully self-aware of his actions, Tara Knowles's file was on the computer screen. She was from a town called Charming. His eyes widened as he scrolled down to the criminal history section. She was arrested three times in 1996 for public intoxication, possession of alcohol as a minor, resisting law enforcement, the list went on. He looked up the man, Jax Teller, who she was arrested with every time. His record made Tara's look like one of a prized citizen. He was part of a motorcycle gang, Sons of Anarchy.

"Yeah, that was their name. Had a bunch of chapters around the states,"

Tim saw Raylan leaning in beside him, and immediately closed out of the file, only to reveal Tara's on the screen.

"Knowles? Isn't that the doctor—"

"You just pick and choose when to be helpful, don't you?"

"Careful with that one," Raylan said before he took a sip of his coffee.

"Your advice is dually noted."

As Raylan walked away, Tim took another look at her file. Scrolling down he saw Tara had filed for several restraining orders from one man - an ATF agent named Josh Kohn. Tim knew that name sounded familiar, he just couldn't place why.

"Shit," Tim exhaled and got up from his chair, making his way to Art's office.

"Art, who's that ATF agent investigating the Crowders?" Tim asked as he opened his boss's door.

"Kohn," Art answered, "He arrived a few days ago."

"Hey, come on in," Tara said with a smile after opening the door. She was excited to see Tim again, but the thrill faded when she saw his face. He looked worried.

Tara walked over to her fridge and grabbed two beers, twisting the tops off. She handed one to Tim. "Everything okay?"

"Let's sit," Tim said. They both made their way to the small table they had dinner on the night before. Tim took a strong swig of the beer and placed it on the table. She did the same.

"You're going to be pissed, and that's fine, but you have to know. I looked at your file today—"

"What the fuck, Tim?" Tara wanted to punch him; she felt betrayed and was furious.

"You can shit on me about it in a minute. I saw you tried putting restraining orders on some agent, Josh Kohn."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Does he know about the note? Shit, what happens now?

"He's in town, investigating a drug ring here,"

Tara kept her eyes away from his, and took another swig.

"Is he dangerous? Look, you don't have to tell me the whole story, but I need to know."

"I don't know. Maybe. I was in a relationship with him in Chicago. I ended it and he started stalking me. He never got violent, but it got scary. I put in a restraining order, but it never stuck. I would try another station, same shit happened," I got pregnant and had an abortion, when he found out I thought he was going to kill me. I now sleep with a gun in my bedside table. She couldn't tell him everything.

"Is that why you left Chicago?" Tim slid his chair closer to her.

"Yes. I wanted a fresh start," Tara groaned in frustration and buried her face in her hands. "He's the one who wrote that note."

"What?"

"The note from the fucking bar!" Tara placed her hands back down and saw Tim's eyes widen.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because part of me couldn't even believe it! I wasn't going to tell you on our first date, how the hell would I explain that?"

"I could have warned the office about this guy if I knew. I can help you, Tara."

"Warn them about what? There's no proof, nothing ever went through! I can take care of myself. I have this far," Tara leaned back in her chair, beer in hand.

Tim stayed silent as Tara grew more furious.

"Is that a routine for you? Fuck them then look up their records?" Tara wanted to avoid talking about Josh despite knowing he was the true problem.

"I really don't have an excuse. But now I'm glad I did. I'm going to keep on eye on that shithead, Tara."

Tara downed her beer and took the empty bottle to the kitchen. She slammed it on the counter, and then turned around to face Tim.

"Do what you have to do. I'll be fine," Tara said calmly.

Tim slowly approached her, and placed his lips on hers. He then wrapped his arms around her waist, tightly embracing her.

"I know," Tim said softly, and kissed her forehead.