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.

Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of sexual acts.

Chapter 34

Quarter to two…it had been such an interesting day…and Joss was starving! The lettuce and peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat she'd brought for lunch, and eaten at her desk to make up for that hour of work she'd ended up missing, just wasn't enough food. Well, maybe it would have been if Tig hadn't hijacked her away from work in the mid morning hours and taken her over to his old dorm. It was so hard to tell in that situation just where she was supposed to be…but when it really came down to it, she was Tig's, not Teller-Morrow's. Maybe just abandoning her post at the garage wasn't exactly 'professional,' but Tig needed her, it had been an awful morning full of staggering around and behaving like someone forgot to give him his Haladal. And it had been worth it to just drop everything and fuck him though! But it was different, kind of like…"security blanket" sex…but then, Joss knew she'd just made that up…well, she'd made up the name, Tig had really been the one who made up the sex…that oddly enough, hadn't been that much about sex. He didn't have any plan to be that way, likely didn't even realize what he was even doing or saying, he was just being honest with her as far as what he wanted, as he wanted it; it may have been sweet and damn near tender here and there, but it wasn't any different than when he told her to hold her breath and not move, not talk, not do anything a living body might do.

Hmm…she'd grown accustomed to that particular quirk of his…and that side of him was easily Joss's least favorite to have to placate, but now, against what he'd wanted her to be and do in the dorm this morning, letting him pretend she was dead felt a little easier to deal with. It was just a "thing," something Tig needed when he needed it…sometimes she was a dead girl, but today, she'd been something he just couldn't let go of, or, between the lines of what he was saying, love enough.

That dorm…that old, cruddy, smelly, cramped room, where Tig lived for so many years, and fucked so many women…Joss never figured it would be anything to them, or to her at least, than a good enough spot for a quickie, but now…hmm…she smiled; Tig and his moods. She'd never felt so needed by a man before…or by anyone really, because it had gone way beyond being sexual, even though that had anchored it all. Tig was kind of like a parrot when it came to verbalizing emotional things, he had a limited vocabulary of stuff he knew how to say, and would say, only unlike a parrot, the "I" and the "you" type of statements were often times reversed in terms of what Joss knew he meant. "Tell me you love me," was really "I'm telling you I love you," still a bit odd and stiff in the construction of the sentence, but then, that's how Joss knew what Tig's true meaning was, he'd never be comfortable with feeling that. But today, so many things started to be said, things she'd never heard him say before, but true to Tig, they were in need of just as much exploration and interpretation, like some avant-garde poem full of vivid, jumbled images that made no sense by themselves.

He murmured something about "the beginning," just as he'd thrust every bit of his big cock into her, looking down at her instead of moving like something starved for this primal kind of contact, telling her, "This used to hurt you so bad." And he watched her face, like searching for any sign that it still did.

Joss had nodded, "Yes," she'd answered, for it was the truth, and Tig wasn't without a touch of sadism that regularly found a way into the sex they had, though it was never anything flamboyant; biting her until she winced or squealed, denying her a breath when she was in dire need of one, or touching her in the place so raw with overtaxed nerves that she was sure the sensation would break her. But that hadn't been why he'd asked about hurting her, pinning her hands against the mattress as he did slowly begin to move, so purposeful in the way he ensured his big cock would be in constant contact along her G-spot, prodding and coaxing it to the shamelessly responsive swelled mass he wanted it to be.

"Now?" he'd asked, though it had been hard for him speak, dissolving into the same sweet friction that Joss had already been swept away by, her breathing too hard and heavy to answer him, at least with words. It didn't matter, because even the words that Tig had said didn't mean what they seemed to; yes, sex used to hurt, he was something so much bigger and harder and more difficult to take than most other men, but that was years ago, and Joss could more than handle it all now; it was the best thing she'd ever felt, they fit together, had become the place within the other that felt good. They'd come so far from where they'd started out together, and it had very little to do with the words Tig used to say so.

Other hushed wishes were uttered in the form of "stay," and "come," a sporadic, passionate rambling of how he wanted her with him, and that he also wanted her to go wherever he went, the two words quickly followed by "Mine!" which of course, needed no interpretation at all.

"Never…" it had been something he'd said numerous times, "never" a hot whisper that bore out its meaning in the way his arms would come around her and hold Joss so tightly that the very last bit of air in her lungs was forced out of her, "never," yes, she'd never leave him, she'd always be his, and he would always be hers.

But bodies demanded more than only words could satisfy, the already thrumming pace of what they were feeling becoming fuel for what was slowly building and intensifying, ready to blow them both apart, but bind them tighter than could ever be undone. "Tell me you love me," a familiar and frenzied undertone to what coursed through them both, Tig saying it again and again, no matter how many times Joss answered or how loudly she said it, his request met by her response some uncountable number of times, before the physicality of it all erupted in the most breathtaking and quieting of fashions.

The whole ordeal had been one of the most obfuscating and beautiful experiences they'd ever shared, a jumbled twist of seemingly meaningless jabber coupled with the most needful giving and taking of physical adoration that either of them had likely ever known with anyone else. If Joss hadn't known that all Tig had taken that morning had been aspirins, she'd have sworn he was high or drunk. But then, maybe he was?

And then it had been back to work…Tig to the garage, Joss to the office…and for a good hour afterwards, each time they passed by one another, each looked at the other like this was a strange place of have ended up after…afterwards. Tig was Tig again by the time they'd arrived back at the garage, and she wasn't surprised to see how he was now trying to ignore what they'd just done, and felt. Bobby had dubbed Joss "the miracle worker," stating that he wasn't sure what she'd done, but she must have done it well. But it wasn't her…at least, not alone.

And she was so hungry now, 'miracles' took a lot out of her apparently. Joss couldn't help but laugh then, sitting there alone at Gemma's desk, trying to reconcile checks with finished repair orders and make sure the totals matched up before she put everything together in the bank bag the armored truck would come for soon. But she couldn't concentrate on that right now, not with what happened in the old dorm earlier today and how it felt replaying constantly in her mind, or with the way her stomach was growling either. Well, there was the vending machine in the area where customers could sit and wait for their vehicles, and it was just as frequented by everyone who worked here as well…but unlike the waiting customers and everyone who worked here, Joss never had her own money. Another little thing about being property that sometimes did get in the way of things. Even any salary she drew from working at the garage this week was Tig's, not hers. Since the inception of MC's, the old lady was sent out to make money for the club, or one particular member, usually in the form of prostitution or strip joints. Being given a property patch wasn't going to change that, it only enforced it more, even though she knew Tig was way too crazily possessive to ever put her on a street corner or have her serving drinks in some topless bar. But, any kind of revenue she did somehow generate would always be his, and never hers, and she'd known that. She wasn't actually bothered too much by it because Tig always took care of her, and there was a lot of pride built into that for a man within the confines of an MC too, showing that he could provide for his old lady…but there were times, like when she was in this inconsequential kind of situation, when it really did suck. She just needed fifty cents, but she had to ask Tig for it, and he was working…she'd have to go and interrupt him for two measly quarters.

Well, there was that case of filters that had come after lunch, she could take them out to the oil change station, even though Juice had told her not to worry about trying to lift or carry the box, that he'd get it before the day was over. But, at least if it looked like she had some purpose for going out into the garage, and then just sort of "happened upon" Tig, it wasn't running out there like some spoiled brat and asking for money. Not that he'd mind, he did always take care of her, even if he did bitch and moan about having to stop what he was doing first. Joss's stomach growled again; she sighed, might as well get this over with.

The box of oil filters wasn't really as heavy as she'd expected it to be, but it was cumbersome, wider than her arms could stretch around it, which made walking with it difficult, and by the time she'd made it through the bay door with it, 'big brother' Jax was all over the situation, yelling, "Hey!" like she was on fire or something and rushing over to take the box from her, the way he'd yelled made everyone look at her. Great, now she'd have to ask Tig for money with an audience, but she smiled at Jax and politely thanked him anyway.

Tig, who was across the bay from her, wiping his blackened hands on a blackened rag was on his way over to her now, which Joss was glad to see, and a little surprised even, but then she remembered, he was still under the impression that she hated Jax. But, she didn't really hate Jax, just what he was he doing, but she knew Tig wasn't about to split hairs on that one, and now he was standing there next to her, looking on at Jax with her, as if 'Team Trager' were about to shout some big "we don't like you!" at him. Team Trager? Great, there she was, fucking up with Tig's last name again! Oh well, at least this time it wasn't on paper.

"What the hell are you bringing that in here yourself for?" Tig asked as they watched Jax squaring away the box over in the corner. Tig looked a bit flustered with her, like she'd just mopped the floor for their maid or something.

"Well, I just figured you all had enough to do today." She smiled, noticing that he stood a little closer to her than he normally would have with everyone around like this. Hmm…was that because of Jax, or something else?

She heard Clay chuckle behind her. "Joss, I'm gonna miss you next week!" He laughed.

She turned towards him, smiling also, but feeling a little melancholy that tomorrow was Friday…there was no more job after that. She still knew next to nothing about automotive repair, and hearing all the useless information she heard from the public was annoying, but she did like it here, around the garage, around the Tig's brothers, and around Tig! "I'll come back any time you need me, though." Joss promised, but then immediately remembered she wasn't who could offer that. She looked up at Tig. "If that's okay."

A smile crossed Tig's face, either because he liked the thought of that, or because she'd managed the save she had, and then she noticed that Clay was even looking to Tig, waiting for an answer, and that had given Joss so much hope of maybe one day returning. Tig nodded at her, then turned to Clay. "Yeah, no offense of any kind to Gemma, ever, it'll be good to have her back, but Joss fits in real good here."

"That she does," agreed Clay, and there were more than a few affirmative words and nods from everyone else, but the only thing that Joss cared about was what Tig had said, she "fit in real good." He liked working with her!

Joss was smiling broadly now, so distracted that it didn't occur to her that she was now standing around with no particular purpose, and had to think to remember why it was she'd ever wrestled the case of oil filters out here to begin with. But, there was something she had to say first to someone. She eased a little closer to Tig. "Thank you!" She said quietly, but hoping it wasn't freaking him out to look like this with her in front of everyone, after all, he'd sort of started it.

"You will," he half whispered back with a crooked grin. "Later."

She laughed a little and didn't hesitate as Tig reached out and kind of pushed her away a little with back of his hand, maybe having had his limit of this advertised intimacy between them. It was okay, she was busy. "I need to get back to the bank deposit," she told him, so he wouldn't have to feel like he'd ended something that she wanted to continue, though she'd never complain about being close to him. "But, can I have—"

"What?" there was that crooked grin again, like he expected her to ask him for something that he'd have to give her over there in his old dorm again.

"It's nothing like that, you bad thing!" She giggled and swatted at him.

"Then I don't have it then." He grinned back at her, dodging her attempt to smack at him, and shoving his black, greasy hands at her with intentions of wiping them off on her. Joss gave a laughing scream and jumped back from his dirty hands, Tig coming after her, but then stopping dead as he realized they were sort of…playing around…and everyone could see it. But there was no saving face in trying to just sweep it under the rug at this point. He dropped his mischief, but let his smile fade slowly as he looked at her, throwing the dirty rag over his shoulder. "Whattya want, Joss?"

"Fifty cents." She replied, feeling stupid about asking now…first Jax got everyone's attention, and then Tig got acting all goofy and did it again.

"Why?" He was still kind of smiling, obviously not done messing with her, which was surprising given that it wasn't only Clay around. Hmm…maybe that emotional romp earlier today hadn't quite burned off for him yet either.

"Um, I was going to get something from the machine." Joss answered, like she had to think about the answer, but then realized that she did, because she hadn't noticed that the flatbed had driven onto the lot until she'd heard the familiar 'boom' of it unloading a vehicle on the other side of the garage, nearest to the customer waiting area that adjoined the office. Because Opie was often times so close to where she was working, with only a cinderblock wall and a window between them, Joss had become so conditioned to tense up and be alert whenever she'd saw that truck, or heard that noise…but it was okay, she was with Tig this time.

Tig of course took no notice of the flatbed. "What are you getting?"

"A one hundred calorie pack of little whole wheat crackers." But as soon as she'd said that, Tig had groaned. Oh no…she'd let the vegetarian cat out of the bag again.

"No you're not." He said shaking his head, then began to take a step, beckoning to her as he did. "C'mon, let's get you real food."

Chapter 33; Part 2

Beef Jerky! Of course…what else would Tig have chosen for her? He handed it to her after it fell from the little metal rings that held it within the vending machine and smiled as he did; looking satisfied that he'd thought of it, and that she'd have to eat it too. This wasn't fair…Joss stared longingly at the little bag of healthy, vegetarian snack crackers…she'd been too distracted by Opie's voice when Tig was making her selection to argue with him, not that it would have mattered anyway. The window in the customer waiting area was open, and Opie was out there, talking to someone about something that in no way involved her, or Tig, but still, Joss was straining to hear every word, just to be sure.

"There," Tig said to her, then began to walk outside again, Joss hurriedly going with him, because she'd heard Opie's conversation end too, and he was likely going to be driving back around the office now and heading out once more. Joss didn't want to not be with Tig when that happened if she wasn't protected by the walls of the office. "That's better for you," Tig smiled like he'd just done her a big favor.

Joss sighed. "It's not better for the poor animal it came from." She said, trying to forget Opie and looking at the package of jerky. There was a little silhouette of a running ostrich on the bottom of it. "Eeeeew, Tig, there's ostrich meat in this!"

"You'll like it," He insisted. "It's like a big chicken, don't worry about it."

"I don't eat chickens either!" Joss replied, hearing footsteps now, someone going into the place she and Tig had just left, and she didn't have to look behind her to know who it was. Tig, who said nothing, had reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer and turning them both around so that he was now in between her and Opie, but Opie hadn't even looked at them, just disappeared into the customer waiting area. Oh well, the vending machine was in there, and Joss couldn't blame him for getting hungry. She took a deep breath, looked at the beef jerky then at Tig again, noticing that she now had marks from Tig's dirty, black fingers on her skin. "I don't believe you're making me eat an ostrich!"

"Why do you have to go and make it sound weirder than it is?" He sighed back. "Jesus Christ, Joss, I just want you to eat something that'll put a little hair on your balls; it works for me!"

"So I've noticed," she laughed now, though she really was still very opposed to this whole ostrich idea. "But that wasn't actually an attribute I was looking to develop for myself." Footsteps again, out of the customer waiting area and then into the office, distracting both she and Tig, who again reached out and had a hand on her as he turned his upper body towards where Opie had gone into the office, holding his position until Opie had come out again just a few seconds later, sticking two pens into the pocket of his garage shirt now and giving Tig that MC nod again, Tig returning it, but this time Joss noticed that Opie's eyes never fell on her. In fact, he didn't acknowledge her at all. Good! Opie was heading back around the building now to get into the flatbed and head out again. Whoa, that had been close…or so it felt. But Tig had been there for her, shielding her, not letting anything happen to her. She looked up at him and smiled as he turned back around to her. "Is it always going to be like this?"

The flatbed's engine turned over and the truck roared to life again, appearing from out behind the building and driving away, no looks back from the driver, but Tig kept his eye on it until it was passed the garage. "I don't know," he said still half watching the truck. "That depends on him."

Joss smiled again, shoving the dead ostrich into her pocket and drawing even closer to Tig. "That's not what I meant." She said softly, her grateful smile indicating how he'd stepped up to protect her, just incase.

The beef jerky disagreement evaporated, Tig looking down at her and reaching out like he was going to take her under the chin and lift her eyes up to look into his like he did whenever he had something important he wanted her to understand, but he remembered how filthy his hands were, stopping a moment to furiously wipe them on his jeans, then catching her under the chin. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Joss. You've had a lot of shit happen to you that you never deserved, and if anyone so much as makes a tear appear in your eyes, they're mine." His voice grew dark as he ended his sentence, and she thought that was the end of what he was saying, but then he'd pulled her even closer with his other hand at her waist, looking at her with such faithful viciousness electrifying his stunning blue eyes, and this reaction came from only a hypothetical threat that hadn't even been named. "I may not be willing to die for you, baby, but that's only because I'm damn sure willing to kill for you, and that makes a hell of a lot more sense."

Wow! Joss knew he'd kissed after that promise, a quick kind of closed mouth thing, but it had felt like so much more after what he'd said…within earshot of everyone around them. Nope…what happened in the dorm earlier was still happening, but Tig was in control of it now, owning it. She was kind of surprised to find herself back in the office again, that feeling of it being such a strange place to go back to after yet another moment with Tig replaying all over again today. No one had ever loved her like he did; loved her so damn much, it scared him to even say so. Wow…what time was it? When could they go home…and go to bed? Alright, just get it together, there was the bank deposit still, and that armored car would be here soon. Oh, but maybe she'd better check herself in the little compact mirror Gemma kept in the middle tray drawer with the pens and pencils; Tig's hands were dirty, and Joss might have had her own black goatee going on right now.

She went to the desk, reaching down for the middle drawer, the stick of dead ostrich bending in her pocket as she did so, and she pulled it out, throwing it on the desk and rolling her eyes, but that's when she noticed there was a folded up neon yellow sticky note stuck to the top of the pile of checks she'd been working on when she left the office. What was that? Had Juice come by looking for the box of oil filters and was asking where they were in a little note? Or was it…Joss's hand shook as she reached out and peeled the sticky note from the stack of checks, unfolding it as her heart pounded. The handwriting was foreign to her, but more than legible. "Check the first aid kit."

What? Were they out of something? Had Bobby for some reason replaced the aspirins she'd given Tig this morning? What kind of instructions were those? With the note in one hand still, Joss went over to the filing cabinet again, pulling open that top drawer, expecting another neon yellow sticky note to be awaiting her there, but it wasn't. Instead, laying there on the top of the old toolbox, where all the band-aids were kept, was a little package of one hundred calorie whole wheat snack crackers.