Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story.

Chapter 21

"Okay, what's this called?" Tig moved onto the next of the automotive hand tools he'd laid out on the skid of the empty lift, pleased with how Joss had paid attention and was able to repeat back to him everything he'd said to her, word for word, as soon as he held something up to her. She was obviously confused by why he was making her learns this, but it that didn't matter, all that mattered was that she'd know.

"A Hex Key wrench," she said, and before he could even ask the next part of the question, she sighed and continued. "It's little and 'L' shaped so you can work in tight spaces that you can't always jam a bigger wrench into."

"Good!" He smiled at her, this time handed her the next tool. "Tell me about this one."

She grasped the long, cylindrical tool, her finger for a moment playing with the adjustable circular head of it. "It's a Torque Wrench, for tightening up any nuts or bolts you had to remove, and making sure they're back on tight."

He hadn't expected any less of her, Joss being gifted with the IQ she was gifted with and all, but Tig couldn't help but be amazed and proud. He liked teaching her things, he was quickly finding that out, and it was because she learned so swiftly and so well. What she learned from him made her more his, and that was something he just couldn't get enough of. He hadn't realized it as he'd been doing it, but when he'd taken the extra few minutes after work today to lay out his little lesson plan on the lift skid, he'd been looking forward to doing this with her! Tig wasn't even sure now what he'd wanted more when he'd made the trip back to the house to pick Joss up; to have her with him at the party tonight after "church," or just to have this educational moment with her. He knew Joss wouldn't understand why they were doing this, but as his property, it wasn't her job, or even her right, to understand, it was her job to do what he said, and she was. She was so perfect! What? How the hell had things progressed to the point where he was satisfied to be teaching the little, rich brat what wrench was which and what it was used for, and be enjoying every minute of doing so? Fuck…they probably didn't make any kind of prescription drugs to prevent the onset of that…

Joss was on the verge of getting bored, her fingers playing at the hem of the black baby-T she wore with the python printed on it as if the snake held her slim body within its coils. Her patch covered the whole snake detail, but the head of the serpent still peaked out of the top, looking nearly like a real animal. She loved that shirt, but she didn't like that it was short, and when she moved, it rode up enough to show her splenectomy scar, even though Tig insisted it was hardly anything to be worried about, the surgery had been laproscopic after all. But still, Joss would always see it and then sigh, looking so depressed over it; "I'm marred," she'd say to him, "the only marks on me should be yours, not anyone else's."

He couldn't have her pulling on that shirt now and worrying about stuff that really didn't matter to him though. He wanted her to learn. "Joss," he said to her, watching her fighting to keep the shirt in contact with the waistband of her skinny jeans, "it's fine, baby. You're beautiful, leave it alone." Before she could protest, he moved to the last tool, but he didn't touch this one, just pointed to it, that was all. He'd needed to use it earlier today, and as soon as he'd touched it, a chill had gone through him, and he'd nearly dropped it onto the concrete floor. "What's this?"

Joss stared down at it like it was nothing to her, which it of course wasn't. "A Crescent Wrench."

Tig shook his head, he'd told her more about than just that. "And?"

Joss stared down at the wrench, her brow furrowed; Christ, did she forget? Tig began to feel nervous. Then she seemed to find the answer he sought, looked back up at him. "It's adjustable."

Well, okay, he had described it as such, but that was so far from what he wanted her to repeat to him. "And?" He said again, more demanding this time, feeling like he was going to start shaking soon uncontrollably if she didn't get this one. "C'mon, Joss, don't let me down!"

But she looked lost, looking at him and shaking her head like she couldn't imagine what he wanted her to say, Tig's eyes boring into hers, his hands moving outwardly from her mouth as if he could pull the words he wanted to hear out of her, but of course he couldn't. He was about to give up and go through it with her again, feeling so demolished inside, but then he saw Joss squint at him, giving him an 'are you serious?' kind of look. He nodded excitedly, his hand back in action again, pulling harder at the words he knew were still in her head.

"It's really fucking heavy, so don't make you hit me with it." She definitely couldn't believe that this was the thing he'd been so eager for her to say, but who the fuck cared, she'd remembered it!

"Yes!" He made a fist in the air and sounded like his team had just scored a touchdown or something. He smiled, took her by the shoulders and kissed her quickly. "Christ, Joss, for a minute I thought you forgot the most important thing I told you!"

"That is the most important thing you told me?" She asked, still lost, but she smiled and started to laugh.

"Yeah," Tig answered, but now he felt a little sheepish about it. "Look, it just makes me feel better, okay?"

"Okay," Joss smiled, reaching down and lightly touching both his forearms as she drew a bit closer to him. "If it helps you sleep at night, I'll do anything."

Tig's smile was softer now than it had been, he took one step closer to her, wanting to wrap his arms around her and hug her so tightly that he lifted her off the ground, but they weren't exactly alone, Clay was in the office still, and Tig wasn't about to be caught overreacting to what he was feeling for this damn girl. "I know," he said, almost whispering, looking down at her and letting himself enjoy how her fingertips gently grazed over his tattoo. "You're a great girl, Joss." That time he did whisper, only she could have heard him, and she did. She smiled, but as soon as she heard the office door open, she knew to let go of him and just back up, nonchalantly, calling no attention the fact that there had been any closeness between them. She was so perfect!

"Hey, Joss!" Clay smiled, walking right over to where Tig stood with her and giving her a hug, Joss kissing Clay's cheek as he did. "Still ridin' with him, huh?" He laughed, indicating Tig with a nod of his head.

"I think it's the other way around." She laughed having made sure Tig wanted her to do anything first.

Clay laughed but then turned to Tig. "We'll be ready start in about twenty minutes," he said, then noticed all the tools that were displayed on the lift skid. "You training our new mechanic?" He laughed, putting his arm around Joss and grinning at her.

Joss looked to Tig, but that was no surprise, because she didn't know what the hell was going on anyway with why he'd made her memorize the wrenches. "Just giving her some insight on what pays the bills, that's all." He answered, and reached for a cigarette.

Clay nodded, but then an idea seemed to suddenly come to him, he let go of Joss and looked at Tig. "Hey, you know, Nita's on vacation the week after next. That leaves Gemma home with the kid," he said. "How about if Joss comes in and answers the phones, makes the appointments and does all the legit payroll stuff that Gemma usually takes care of?"

Tig couldn't believe it. He hadn't said a word to Clay about the horrible dream he'd had the night before, but now, here was an opportunity for Joss to be where he could keep an eye on her, incase there was any shit with Opie, and he wouldn't have to be handcuffed to Joss! That hadn't ended well…no, he wasn't thinking about that ever again. "Yeah, man!" Tig smiled, but hoped he didn't sound too excited about it. "She can do it!"

Chapter 21; Part 2

"Wastler…tire recycling…209-111-9000" Joss quietly repeated to herself as she sat at Gemma's desk, flipping though the well used rolodex, memorizing each supplier's phone number, address and what parts or services Teller-Morrow usually dealt with them in. Clay and Tig were over at the chapel, doing the customary sweep for any bugs before "church," and it had been Tig's suggestion that she stay over here and "get the feel" of things in the office, so when she did start her temporary job, she'd already be up to speed. He'd seemed very excited about this, and so was Joss. Riding to work with him, having lunch with him, being able to look out a window and see what her man did all day…with all those wrenches…it would be great! Besides, sitting her prepping for work was more entertaining than waiting on Tig's bike until "church" was over…she'd come to hate being left on the back of a bike to do nothing but wait, but she'd known she'd signed up for it tonight, as only fully patched SAMCRO members were able to attend the Friday night meetings. It didn't matter now, she was busy, happily so, because Tig was happy about her having this job at the garage, and she wanted to make him proud.

She'd heard a bike pull up near the office, but she thought nothing of it, there were a lot of bikes arriving for "church" and it was probably just someone looking for Clay. They'd figure out he wasn't here once they noticed the bay doors were shut and that the only light in the office was a computer screen, where Joss was memorizing the Excel document and all its formulas for the payroll, while flipping through the rolodex. "Church" would be in session in about five more minutes, maybe less. Whoever it was would soon be on their way over to the clubhouse, and she'd be in peace to continue with her multitasking. Doing two things at once like this was no problem for her, in fact, it helped her to focus more on what she did, until, damn it…her finger slid the wrong way over the cardstock pages of the rolodex, and her middle finger was now bleeding, nicely…and stinging pretty decently too. Great, just what she needed; to be putting blood all over Gemma's shit! She pushed herself away from the desk with her knee, looking for something to wrap around her dripping finger, a tissue, a napkin, a scrap piece of paper, but Gemma had a thing for order and cleanliness, and there was nothing like that to be had. But, there was the water cooler, with its little pointy ended cups. It was better than nothing; blood was running down to her wrist now. She swiveled the chair around and reached for the cup dispenser, just as the office door opened.