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 23

Tig had never needed Joss quite the way he needed her now. Just when he'd thought there were enough things on his mind to fuck him up, "church" had added to it all in a major way. The most recent lot of AK's and the club's signature M-16's that they'd been running, every fucking one of them had been tracked, tagged by Mayan informants…ATF hadn't been sniffing around the club very much lately, now it made sense why, they had Mayans doing it for them. But something was creeping towards SAMCRO, and they had proof of it. The garage was outfitted with four security cameras, only one of which was a legitimate, working camera, and somehow, by some luck, the three Mayans casing the garage two nights ago had managed to stand right under the damn thing and have a whole conversation…in Spanish…which Juice, despite a last name like "Ortiz," was no more help in being able to translate than Tig was himself. How in hell was it that they were an MC based in California, and no one immediately connected to them spoke Spanish? But Joss, her number was up, she'd been called into service by Clay himself, right after Tig had swore she'd be nearly fluent in Spanish if she was given two, maybe three hours.

Everything, from Opie to Agent Stahl, was all twisting his gut and his mind, and the thought of going back to jail was the worst…he fucking hated being in jail…and it would be so much worse now that he had Joss…oh shit, why'd have to think of it that way? Before now, the thought of going to jail was about the same as knowing he'd have to get up early in the morning, with a hangover, but now…that damn girl, she really was everywhere…EVERY where. But still, despite everything that was weighing him down, Tig couldn't have been more proud! It wasn't fair to say that Gemma sometimes helped with club business, that woman was a SAMCRO saint, she was as valuable as any patched member, and everyone knew it. Other than Gemma though, women, hangarounds, old ladies, they were just pussy, and pussy was only good for one thing. Well, okay, Jax's doctor bitch did come in handy now and then, but that was all part of her Hippocratic Oath, she was bound to give aid to anyone who was hurt or sick, it didn't matter what colors were on their back. But this, Joss, her IQ separated her from the rest, she had something no one else's old lady had, and the club could use it! She was perfect, so perfect!

Because of that fact, Tig was in a fairly good mood when he opened the office door, thinking how it wasn't just Spanish that Joss could help out the club with if another situation, with another language somehow erupted. And now, after a few hours of studying, Joss would always know how to speak, read and write Spanish, she'd really be the go to, and he was indescribably pleased to be the keeper of her gates. He had been looking forward to seeing Joss after "church," and bringing her back to the party even before tonight's troubling announcement, but now he was excited about seeing her for this other reason all together. Plus, all he'd been thinking about was that long silky black hair with the crimson tips, her red lips, white skin, the two emeralds that crowned the dark Cleopatra eyes, and that body, how he felt when she looked at him and just waited for his command…he missed—No he didn't, he'd only been away from her for maybe an hour and a half for fuck sake! Jesus Christ, what kind of ninny was he turning into? Whatever. He was looking forward to seeing her…because he was going to tell her about how she was going to help the club, but when he'd opened the office door, she'd all but screamed.

"What? I scare you?" He asked, sounding more annoyed than he actually was, she'd just startled him, and he hated being startled.

"Well," she took a deep breath, looked all around the desk like she'd lost something, or was trying to hide it, but there was nothing on the desk. Maybe she was trying to hide that? "Yeah, you kinda did, I was immersed on how all this…everything…fits together."

He nodded. "You gettin' it okay?" Something was strange about her though, and she had a band-aid on her middle finger that she didn't have when he'd left her, there was blood on her jeans. She wander out of the office and start messing the tools he'd showed her? Or was it…something else? "Whatjado?"

"Oh," Joss sighed, put on a smile. "I got a paper cut while flipping through the rolodex, a pretty fierce one, too." She held her hand up to show him, but she was still thinking a mile a minute, and it wasn't about office stuff, Tig could tell that. "I'm hoping I didn't bleed on anything of Gemma's…she doesn't even know I'm sitting here at her desk, looking at all this stuff to begin with!"

He didn't know anything about make up, but he could have sworn that when he'd left Joss, that black, Egyptian princess eyeliner had been a little crisper, a little less smudged. "Joss?" he said, his concern, and suspicion, growing…Opie, he'd been the last to show up for "church" tonight, "Something, or someone, make you cry?"

Chapter 23; Part 2

Opie's back and head hit the paneling of the clubhouse so hard that two of the framed mug-shots were rocked off the wall and hit the floor, the glass shattering. This party was nowhere near as big as the other party Joss had been to with Tig; if it had been, then there'd have been plenty more members to try and pull Tig off of Opie, but as it was now, there was only Bobby and Happy doing their best to contain Tig, holding his shoulders and fighting for control of his swinging arm, while Jax and Chibs tried to get Opie back on his feet. Clay yelled again and again at them both, trying to get in between the two brothers, but it was like he wasn't even there…it was like none of them were there, Tig just kept punching down on Opie, unstoppable and ignoring everything around him. Hangarounds and strippers were screaming and rushing out of the way, part of Joss feeling the need to do the same, but she'd been told by Tig to sit there at the bar and read the Spanish/English dictionary he'd shoved into her hand right before he looked up and caught sight of Opie. But how could she read at a time like this? She wasn't even sure what to do, looking on either side of her at Juice and Half-Sack, who stood with her the moment it all went down, but it wasn't because they'd been told to, this was just the protection of the club kicking in. She could barely breathe, didn't want to watch anymore, but she couldn't take her eyes off of the carnage; Tig, he was…oh God…

"Don't worry, ma'am," Half-Sack whispered, looking at her for a moment, his face as blank as hers was. "Tig'll come out of this alright, I've seen it before."

Joss was still so shaken, she looked at Sack for a moment, watching him watch Tig and the merciless way he just kept at Opie, blood flying everywhere now with each punch. She knew Tig's reputation, she knew what he did to anyone he was either set upon, or who he deemed wronged him somehow, she knew what he'd done to Butcher; yeah, she knew exactly what Tig was…but she'd never seen it before. That night two years ago…she'd been the same way, she'd been the same thing…emptying that clip into her father…unable to stop, just kept shooting.

Opie hadn't helped things. He could have—No! He should have apologized to Tig for everything that had transgressed in the office with her. Joss had told Tig everything, from not being able to find anything to blot her bleeding finger on to Opie's verbalized hope that they could "get to know each other better." Tig knew everything, he knew how it all went down, he knew she hadn't talked to Opie, he knew she was innocent, but now Joss began to wish she'd been able to hold some of the details back…but she couldn't help it. Tig owned her, if he asked her to tell him something, she had no choice but to report what she knew. And besides, the instant Tig had asked if something had happened, she just fell apart, so confused by Opie's visit and his words and his actions, and his motives, and so scared that it all could only mean trouble for her. Old ladies, particularly property, were off limits in every way to anyone but the men that owned them. Screwing around with someone else's old lady, or property, was a death sentence…for the offending brother, and the woman he touched.

She wasn't sure how it happened; maybe Tig was getting tired, but finally Bobby, Happy and Clay were able to tear him off of Opie, pushing him back until he now stood beside Joss and Sack. Tig was out of breath and covered in tiny flecks of blood, and it was dripping from every ring on his fingers too. He didn't look at her, but Joss saw Tig close his eyes like he was suddenly going to meditate on what he'd done. Jax and Chibs stood Opie up, Joss looked away; she didn't want to see what he looked like, surprised to hear that he was still breathing. She really thought Tig was going to kill him, just keep on punching him until there was no face left to pound upon. Oh god…what if she'd been wrong about Opie? What if he was just trying to be nice to her, trying to get to know her as someone he also now had a stake in protecting if it ever came to it?

"Hey," Bobby looked at Sack and Juice, both of his hands on Tig's chest, keeping him where he was. "Get him a beer, he just needs to cool off."

On the other side of the room Joss could hear Opie trying to shake it off. She'd fought so hard not to look at him, but now she did. He didn't look at her either, at least, she didn't think he did, there was so much blood all over his face; it was hard to tell if his eyes were even open. There was a gash in his head that went from one ear, up over his eye and all the way over top of his nose. It was so deep, a real split in his head like someone had froze it and just cracked it open like an egg; she was sure she could see Opie's skull in places, and she looked away again, hardly able to comprehend that Tig's fist had done that kind of damage.

Clay stepped away from Tig, looking at him, then looking at Opie and moving to stand equal distance away in between them both. Joss had never seen Clay look as pissed off as he did. What would happen now? What was the penalty for jumping a brother in what had looked like an unprovoked attack?

"Alright!" Clay yelled; his voice a roar as he scowled coldly at both Opie and Tig. "What the fuck was that?"

Tig, now holding a beer, took a swallow of it, but his eyes were still seething with whatever that madness inside him was, the same madness Joss knew, but was so afraid of. He glared at Opie, looking right through Clay. "He knows!"

Jax and Chibs were both struggling to keep Opie on his feet, but to everyone's surprise, Opie laughed. "What? He should be thanking me," he was having problems breathing and had to gasp several times as he spoke, and Joss could feel Tig bristling more and more as Opie did speak. "He wasn't there to take care of his old lady when she needed somebody, but I was!"

"Shit!" she heard Jax groan, and less than a second later the beer bottle Tig had been holding flew across the room at Opie's head, missing high by barely an inch. Once more Bobby and Happy piled onto Tig, Juice joining them this time, all of them telling him to "let it go" and to "let Clay talk." Sack moved a little closer to her, standing half in front of her like he was shielding her from something.

"Joss," Clay suddenly turned to her, his voice still angry; so much for that shield. "I don't normally involve the old lady in shit like this, but I got next to no chance of getting the facts outta either one of these two right now." Clay again glowered at Opie then Tig. "You were obviously involved; what happened?"

Tig was shaking his head, getting more and more agitated, but trying to hide it. "Clay," he said, his voice compressed down from the way Joss knew he wanted to yell. "This is so not cool, man!"

Clay turned all his intensity at Tig now. "You know what's 'not cool?'" He asked; his voice not anywhere near as crazed with anger as Joss had expected it to be, but Clay was still pissed. "You beating the living shit out of one of your brothers, in this clubhouse, when to my knowledge, no one's dead, or pregnant!" Tig cursed under his breath but was otherwise silent, this time stealing a glance at her, like making sure she understood he really didn't want her to talk, but there wasn't much he could do about it if Clay were going to order her to do it. Clay's eyes quickly shifted from Tig to Joss, and this time Clay pointed his finger at her. "Joss, start explaining." He demanded, and again she saw Tig look at her sternly, but helplessly, because he wasn't in control anymore, Clay was.

Joss felt herself start to tremble; she felt dizzy, dropped the dictionary on the floor and felt her stomach aching like it never had before. Clay wanted her to talk, but Tig wanted her to shut up…maybe she should just lie about what happened? Make Opie's offense into something greater than what it was? It might save Tig some admonishment, it would likely save herself some too, but what would it cost Opie? She just couldn't shake the fear that what he'd done for her was out of something…no, fuck that! Opie had likely made the rest of her night hell, and it was probably going to get worse when she and Tig got home. Opie could have gotten her killed, along with himself! But, he could barely stand…he'd more than paid for putting a band-aid on her finger, hadn't he? Shit! She had no idea how SAMCRO handled these things, or how lenient or intolerant Clay was when it came to this shit. She had no way of knowing whether what she'd say would ease this situation, or kill a man. Tig…she loved him so much…and he wanted her to say nothing…but…

"No," Opie's voice, garbled with blood and a broken nose, interrupted the silence that was just growing longer and longer as Joss fought for an answer to her predicament. "It was me, Clay. I stepped on Tig's feet," Opie tried to lift his head to look at Tig now, but he couldn't do it, so he just sort of gave him some acknowledging salute with his finger. "Sorry, bro." He sputtered, blood and saliva dripping from his bashed lips, a big, thick flap of skin from his ear to his mid forehead being pulled further open by every movement of his jaw. "Joss didn't do anything you wouldn't have wanted her to. She loves you; don't take her head off for it."