Title: As the Rush Comes

Summary: She rode into town in an old convertible, as if on the wind. Will she find herself caught in the middle of one of the deadliest biker wars in Charming history?

Disclaimer: the Sons of Anarchy belong to Kurt Sutter, not me. I'm a poor college student, so it'd be pointless to sue.

A/N: The song for this chapter is Santa Monica by Theory of a Deadman

A/N: Read & Review, please Live by the motto: If you read it, feed it. I'm sorry the updates have been pretty much non-existant for the past month. I've been on Christmas vacation from college, and as soon as classes ended, my muse ran out the door. I'll try to be more frequent. Meanwhile, watch the trailer for this story on my YouTube account. My user name is sincitysoul.

Within her welcome back party, Vanessa realized that not as much had changed as she had originally thought. Sure, people had grown and lives had been irreparably changed – but they were all the same boys she remembered. Juice wasn't leaving his computer (not even to get laid), Opie and Jax were playing pool, and Tig was hitting on anything that walked by him and had a pulse. She couldn't help herself from grinning as the smile spread across her face. Nessa felt like she was home again – a feeling she had been craving for far too long.

"It's your party and I haven't even had the chance to say hi yet."
"Hey Gemma."
"Hi Baby girl. We missed you so much."

Everyone knew that Vanessa was the daughter that Gemma never had. Even Tara had finally accepted the fact that she would never measure up to Nessa in the aging woman's eyes. What Gemma would never admit was the fact that she saw a lot of herself in Vanessa, and wanted to make sure that when Clay stepped back, there would be a badass lady there to take care of SAMCRO. A thud was heard from across the room, and being….well, herself, Nessa turned to see what had caused the noise. Tig was sitting on the ground, a longneck bottle in his hand, laughing as if he had just heard the best joke ever created.

"How many of those has he had?"
"Obviously too many."
"Hey Ladies!!"

Tig had stumbled his way over the bar where Gemma and Vanessa were standing. He had definitely had too much to drink – you could smell it coming out of his pores.

"Nessa, girl, we all missed you. It's not the same."
"Darlin', you are blitzed past oblivion right now."
"No, damn it, listen."

She didn't know why, but something in Tig's voice made her stop, made her want to do as he said and listen to him. Rarely did he ever use that voice with anyone but his brothers and the prospect – letting Nessa know that whatever he was about to say was serious.

"Do you remember what you said to me before you left? You said that people needed to stop pretending to be something they're not. I don't want to pretend anymore.
"Pretend to be what? What are you pretending…."

Tig silenced Vanessa with a rough kiss. She was shocked, to say the least. Not only did he pick the worst time to start showing affection to ANY woman, he chose her when he knew Chibs was standing on the other side of the room, watching him like a hawk. There was a connection between Tig and Nessa, however. There would no denying that. B y the time Nessa pried her lips away from Tig, Chibs had crossed the room in just a few long strides.

"Brother, I think we need to talk. Outside."

Oh, god. I know that look – this is not going to be good., she thought to herself. The last time she had seen Chibs with that hint of fury in his eyes was during his last fight, and that had been years and years ago. Chibs' fury mixed with Tig's drunken stupidity was not going to be a good combination. Knowing the inevitable outcome of the situation, Nessa tried to grab Chibs' arm, but he shrugged her off and shot her a look that told her he knew that this was not the first time – not the first time that there had been something between her and Tig. She looked over at Gemma, at a loss for words or actions. The woman nodded and placed a hand on Nessa's shoulder.

"You had to see this coming, baby. You knew this would happen, or you wouldn't have ran off."
"What do I do? How do I make this better?"
"You don't."