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 39

Tig would have laughed if he wasn't starting to feel Joss's frustration. That empty one gallon milk jug was obviously the toughest opponent she'd ever faced. But he knew she could do it, she just had to get all this shit about what she thought shooting a gun was out of her head, and listen to what he was telling her. He'd been very selective when it came to choosing a gun for her, knew that she'd had some minimal familiarity with the Beretta M9, but he also knew the gun was too heavy and much too large for her hand; it was a definite man's gun, and she'd be hard pressed to learn to shoot with it. Yeah, she'd argue that she'd taken her father down with it, but that had been at close range, and Tig was nowhere near impressed with her accuracy…because there hadn't been any display of it. Plus, she'd shown a proclivity to shoot low with the Beretta too, most of her shots having ended up in daddy's groin; half because Tig figured that's what Joss felt needed the most killing, but also likely because the weight of the piece was pulling her hands downward.

But the Glock G19 in her hands, that made Tig smile…at least, the control over it Joss had when she held it still did, anyway. It wasn't some sissy little snub-nose nine mil, looked nothing like a "girl's gun," if Joss ever did have to whip it out, it was going to have a presence, that was for sure. But, she was still misaligning her rear and front sights, not breathing like he'd told her to as she squeezed back on the trigger, and she fought a little bit with the low, blockish kind of feel he knew it had in the shooter's hand, but all of these things would be something she'd adjust to. He'd never been a fan of the polymer framed pistols, but the Glock was a good first gun for Joss; lightweight, accurate in the long range, durable and any replacement parts were easy to find and inexpensive. She'd get to like it herself if she'd just listen to what he was telling her to do, and stop trying to be some TV series cop.

Once more the gun kicked back in her hands, Joss making a face as the recoil tweaked her wrist and the bullet whined off wide right of the milk jug, blowing the bark off of yet another tree. She dropped the weapon to her side, shaking her head and ripping her ear protection off, so very flustered. "Can we go back to the paper targets? I was at least hitting those!"

Tig shook his head calmly, loving every moment of teaching her yet something else. "And that's why we stepped up to this, so no." She'd been about average when it came to the paper targets, landed one shot inside the ten-ring at least, but paper targets were just that, paper targets. He'd taken two saw horses, thrown a piece of plywood over top of them, making a platform where he'd put a small kiddie-pool, filled it with water, and set the empty milk jug afloat. Joss was yet to hit the jug, but she'd nailed several surrounding trees, nicked the very edge of the plywood, and shot one saw horse in the leg which Tig was surprised to see had held up and not caused the pool and the water and the jug to begin listing to one side. He hoped Joss would find the milk jug soon, before she shot the pool and the whole exercise had to be disbanded. "What did I tell you to look at before you pulled the trigger?"

"The sight!" Joss sighed, still so frustrated.

"Which one?" Jesus Christ, had she not heard anything he'd told her? Well, this was a little different for her, she couldn't just read or listen to something and let those memorization skills take over, there were variables in this, but that's exactly what Tig had wanted to make her confront, a real life situation, only without the returning fire, of course.

But Joss just shook her head and looked at him. "Tig, it doesn't matter, because the milk jug keeps moving!"

Tig laughed a bit. "I hate to break it to you, little girl, but ninety percent of the things you shoot at in life are likely to be moving too." She had been the one who wanted the gun, and now she had one…but like it or not, she was going to learn to use it properly, even if learning how wasn't as easy for her to pick up as most other things were. "C'mon, Joss. Think of your horses, this is similar. You can't tell me that a horse always does the same thing every time you get on it, but I know you're good at adjusting to the curves they throw at you. Think the same way, baby, you'll be fine."

"Tig I can't fucking see anything!" she half sputtered, looking down at the gun in her hand like she hated it, then ground her teeth a little bit before looking at him. "And you were in the army, you were going into combat, I don't need—"

"Jocelyn!" Tig half growled and shook his head at her, getting her full attention, which was what he wanted. "If you're going to carry that gun, then you're in combat too, and you never think about it any differently than that, you gettin' me?" He hadn't meant to yell at her, which he really hadn't, but he'd managed to make her face go pale and her eyes become wide nonetheless. But Tig couldn't help it, her attitude towards the piece in her hands was pushing a lot of his buttons…she was standing there like Jax's doctor bitch with a gun…and Tig wasn't having that! "You're going to learn this forwards and backwards until you don't even have to think about how to line up those sights when you point that barrel at something, because if you can't get to the point with this that you're cool, calm and collected with a gun in your hands, then 'the Jossinator' is going to get herself into shit I can't get her out of, and I don't want that!"

Joss's whining, frustrated attitude was suddenly MIA, and she was looking up at him startled and surprised, like maybe she hadn't really thought about just what it was she'd asked for when she'd said she wanted a gun. Whatever, she was looking more serious now, nodded her head. "Okay," she said, her voice strong, not reticent and nervous, she was ready to give this her all now, he could tell. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be 'sorry,' just shoot the damn gun the way I've been telling you to." Tig sighed in aggravation, but he moved behind her, taking her right hand by the elbow and extending it out in front of her, with the gun in her hand. He'd give her another chance, a clean slate to start with again…and he'd be a little nicer too. "I know it feels awkward, baby, cuz you're like me, right handed but left eye dominant," he said, bringing her left hand up to wrap around the outside of the handle and support her right hand. He'd done a quick test with her, making her cover each eye one at a time and read some letter's he'd marked down in a notebook, holding it ten paces away from her, and a bit surprised and disappointed when she'd turned out to have better vision in her left eye than her right, as far as shooting went. It had been a dilemma Tig had learned to overcome in the army, and now he didn't really think much about it, until he watched Joss struggling now. He wasn't about to be easy on her though, that wasn't how he'd learned to compensate for the issue himself. She did need to know how to shoot, he'd decided that more and more as they got into this lesson; how different would 'that night' have been if Donna knew how to shoot? Tig shook it off, paid attention to Joss, she had to learn; it could be her only protection some time what with whatever Opie's deal still might be. Joss…she was just going to have to learn to shoot around having a dominant left and eye and right hand, it was just one more fucked up thing in her life; she'd have to get over it just like she did everything else. And she could do it too, if she just paid fucking attention to what he was saying. She couldn't see, she'd complained? That was only because she wasn't looking. "But, this is a handgun, not a rifle, so you just gotta suck it up."

Tig checked the way she held the Glock, felt how braced her right elbow was then looked down at her feet. "Open your stance a little more," he told her, "it'll help with the recoil," Joss did as he said, Tig looking over her right shoulder, at the rear and front sights. "Okay, now look at both those sights until you see them as one thing, and not two." He watched Joss, slowly letting go of her, not wanting to be in her way when she was ready. "Point the front sight at that jug, but don't look at the jug, look at the front sight, that's all I want you to see," he instructed. He saw her square up a little, knew she was happy with her aim. "If that jug moves, you just keep your eye on that front site before you pull that trigger," he reminded. "Now go ahead, when you're ready, take a breath, breathe half of it out, then ease that right index finger back, nice and even, until you're surprised by the gun going off."

Chapter 39; Part 2

Joss felt herself jump with the milk jug that made a loud popping sound and then flew backwards out of the kiddie-pool. She gasped, turning to Tig with so much exuberance and so much pride and relief. "I did it!" She jumped up and down, forgetting there was a gun in her hand, until Tig quickly grabbed it from her, giving her a look of slight reprimand. "Sorry," she blushed, but reached for her gun again. Her gun! "But it worked! I did it!"

Tig smiled, but as per usual, he wasn't going to celebrate like she did. "See? I told you there was nothing wrong with the gun!"

Joss rolled her eyes, but yeah, she had thrown a little bit of a fit, saying the gun was "stupid" and that "no one could shoot with it." Her little rant had only prompted Tig to relieve her of the weapon, calmly point it down "range" and pop off so many rounds into the first milk jug that it sank beneath the water in the kiddie-pool. Then he'd handed the empty Glock back to her, smiled at her in a smug fashion and said, "I don't think it's the gun, baby." Well, it had been good that he'd done that though, despite how pissed off it had made Joss at the time. But really it took that speech about being in combat every time she touched that gun, and what kind of unnecessary problem she could be for him if she didn't learn and become comfortable and capable in what she knew, to finally wake her up. She was going to need to know how to take proper aim, at a moving target, and hit that target, and she only had a few more days before it was all real! There'd be no room for errors! It really had kicked her in the ass and made her realize how much she needed to improve, how much she still had to learn and master if she was going to stand sentinel over what she and Tig had, and what Tig had within the club; protect one, protect the other. And there was so much to protect now, and Joss suddenly realized that her love and loyalty to Tig, and the duty assigned to her by Clay, had made her as much a soldier in this as was anyone else who wore a reaper on their back! Wow, in only the last few minutes, she'd felt herself grow up so much. Good; with what was to come, she had to, and it had nothing to do with Opie.

She looked up at Tig, smiling at him and shaking her head. How did she ever come to be with this man…the future king of SAMCRO? The idea of fairytales were dead to her before she'd even turned seven years old, there were no Snow Whites, no Prince Charmings, and yet here she'd grown up to be some fucked up version of Cinderella…but she was Cinderella nonetheless; and it was all because of Tig. And he was looking at her oddly, brow furrowed, concern in his ice blue eyes, "Joss, what's going on in there right now? You okay?"

Hmm…she was holding a gun, no wonder he looked a little apprehensive about what her mood might be and where her thoughts were, what she was possibly reliving. But Joss only laughed, giggled really, "I'm better than that," she said to him. "And I wouldn't be without you, Tig! If I didn't have you, there's no way I'd be where I am, or feel the way I do!" She'd always known that one day, they'd be like Clay and Gemma, and one day, they would be! Oh God! She wanted to tell him everything that Clay had said to her! Of course she couldn't, and wouldn't, but it jumped up and down and stomped its feet inside her, looking for some way to just explode out of her and wrap the news of Tig's coming coronation around him. It wouldn't happen tomorrow, but it would happen, Joss would make as sure of it as she knew Clay intended to.

There would be a fair share of fallout over it when it happened too; Tig never having displayed himself as not being without some moments of…well, of just having a few screws loose. Even though Joss loved him, she had to admit that he did, not every thought he had was motivated by, or came from, some wholesome or sane part of his psyche. It was for that reason that she'd been shocked herself to hear Clay name him as his choice for his successor, but Clay had explained why so very well. Clay knew the club would be what he'd spent nearly 18 years shaping it to be if Tig took over the reins, and with the reputation his crazy SAA had developed in the world of MC's, SAMCRO would retain their status as being "no one's bitch." Tig knew the gun running game as well as Clay, he was quick to identify trouble in or outside of the club, and he'd always been loyal to SAMCRO and Clay himself. It had made Joss so happy to hear such things about her man, she'd been sitting at Clay's feet listening and smiling, her heart completely aflutter, and then Clay had looked down at her and said, "and now that he's got his life together, got a house, got a woman, I know he's ready, and he's got you to thank for getting him there. So you keep him there, Joss, that's your job now." And she would…she would!

"Tig," she still smiled at him now then kissed him again, her lips beginning the chase both times, but quickly giving into his. "I really do love you, and you know I'll be here for you whenever and whatever you might need me for, don't you?"

"Joss," Tig sighed, but not unappreciatively, putting his arms around her lower back, his hands migrating to her ass. "You've been saying that shit an awful lot lately."

"I've had a lot of shit going in my head lately," she replied, and suddenly her plan for Opie, and the dream she'd had about him, pulled severely at her mind and heart. Never before had she felt so strongly that she'd betrayed Tig, opened her eyes with expectations of seeing Opie above her, and she still remembered what it had all…felt like. Opie was one of those guys that Joss knew would never try to own her, would likely never even look at her as anything other than 'damaged goods' that he wouldn't waste his energy putting up with…there were better, more normal things out there for him…because despite a few little things in his life, like an MC, he was normal, no ghosts he'd caused to haunt him, no constant fight with drug or alcohol addiction, no going through life with some form of mental instability or illness. He was what Joss knew would never want something like her…only, he did. And that thought, that feeling that Opie had somehow elevated her above what she used to be, just wouldn't leave her mind; she'd never forgive Opie for that. That was Tig's place, not his!

How could she even think about that when she loved Tig as much as she did? God…Tig was her everything! That hadn't been diminished, not even a little…she was Tig's and Tig was hers…they were two things that belonged together, belonged to one another; had been custom tortured, beaten, chopped open, rearranged inside, and sewn up again with pieces too jagged to fit anywhere else than into each other. And yet, Opie somehow managed to insert himself in between some of those wicked edges…and the only way to remove him was to…practice a little more with the Glock.

Joss looked at Tig, almost throwing her arms around him, but remembering at the last second that she better not, settling for a hand placed over his heart…she wanted to fuck him, now, on the floor in the foyer…to purify that place in her mind now and always. "I just never want you to think there was a time when I wasn't thinking of you, or wanting you, or loving you," she said to him, memorizing every detail about his ice blue eyes, his dark mustache and double goatee, the wild dark hair and the way he looked back at her like he was so undeserved of such words. But Joss gave his jaw a gentle stroke, which Tig at first tried to shake off, but eventually allowed. She nodded her head at him that he was deserved of the words she said, and much much more. "Thinking of you, wanting you and loving you is my life."