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 48

Today had been the first day that his shoulder hadn't hurt him too much as he gripped the handle bars of the bike. Tig had been thanking the fortunes that had seen him to buying a house that was less than ten minutes away from the garage, otherwise, the ride to and from work these last three days would have been hell. Each morning Joss had tried to get him to take her truck, but no, Tig only caged himself up when he had to, for the club. He could suck it up and ride, or he could bitch out and stay home, the latter not being a real option. But today was a good day, his shoulder was feeling better, Joss seemed much more relaxed and carefree ever since her chat…her long chat…with Gemma last night, and at lunch today Juice had even relayed a message to him from Hob-bitch, saying she wanted Tig to give her a call regarding "something crazy."

"He's almost seventeen hands, three years old, and is in good sound condition, but has been booted out of a job because he's terrified of the starting gate," she'd explained. "You want me to just trailer him to my place, or would you rather come take a look at him first?"

Hmm…Tig hadn't even understood half of what Hob-bitch had said, but he was curious…this was Joss's horse they were discussing after all, something Joss didn't even know was coming to her, and he couldn't wait to give it to her, either! His shoulder was good, a few more miles on the bike to check out the horse wouldn't have been the agony it would have been on Monday or Tuesday, but then Tig heard an infamous sound in the background of their call that quickly made his decision for him. "Na, there's cows there; I can hear 'em…I can't go there." He explained to Hob-bitch, who replied with a very confused, "Oh-Kay," but Tig didn't get into it, asking her instead, "it'll jump, right? I don't wanna get her something broke down."

"Oh yeah, he's never fractured anything, he's just got gate issues," answered Hob-bitch, who really was cool.

"Good," Tig replied, having one more question. "It's a pretty one, right? Joss doesn't wear a lotta bling, so I want her to have something people'll look at and wish they had too."

He could tell that Hob-bitch was smiling, thought what he'd said was really sweet…and if she implied that in her response, or complimented him for saying what he said then she was going to lose some of her coolness. "Yeah, he's a really gorgeous dapple gray; dark mane and tail and legs, really striking!" Again Tig had no idea what that meant, but Hob-bitch just got cooler every time he talked to her, just sticking with the business at hand, not getting all touchy-feely with her words, or talking to him like he was some big, scary, stupid thing that needed everything explained to him…like, "I have to flush the wound…"…fucking doctor bitch…

"Cool!" Tig answered, smiling himself now. "Do it, I'll bring Joss out to your place to meet him tomorrow, so if you talk to her before then, don't say anything." This was all kinds of good! Not only would it make Joss happy, really really happy, it would also maybe push a tighter friendship between Joss and Hob-bitch, and then he'd hang with Happy and his girl a little more, so Joss would have two really good friends, and she could leave doctor bitch in the dust…that worthless cunt…Tig didn't want Joss talking to her anymore. "Thanks," he said to Hob-bitch, and flipped the phone shut again, never imagining he'd be excited by a conversation with a girl that he had no plans of fucking, about something he had no real interest in himself, but he was excited! Finally, things were becoming normal again…or at least as normal as they'd ever been in his life, but he and Joss, they were moving back into that place they were in prior to all the shit that had yanked them out of it and slammed them into cold, hard ground. It felt…like being alive, there was no other way to describe it. So, what was going to happen next to fuck everything up?

Pulling into the garage he noticed that one of his smaller silver wrenches was missing off of the peg board, and several others that were larger, hanged crookedly on their hooks, obviously having been yanked on. That fucking chipmunk! Shit, it wasn't enough that it kept taking the screws and the washers and the nuts, now it was trying to take wrenches too? What the fuck, was it building something? Tig fumed a bit as he removed his helmet, looking at his workbench and shaking his head, but he wanted to go in and kiss Joss, rant and rave a little about her woodland pals, and then he'd come back out here and try to find all his shit…one more time.

He could see Joss through the screen of the door into the kitchen she was standing at the stove, wearing one of his old SAMCRO shirts and nothing else, just like she always was when he came home from work and she wanted to make herself "available" to him…hmm…that was something he hadn't seen in the last two or three days…finally! He nearly forgot the damn chipmunk as he grabbed the handle of the screen door and bounded into the kitchen. "Hey," he said, walking right up behind her and pulling her back against him, Joss protesting a bit because she'd been stirring something noodle-y looking in a pot on the burner. "Missed you, baby." He said, pressing a kiss to the side her face, wanting to reach around in front of her and turn the fucking stove off, he had other hungers to be satisfied, but Tig didn't know how the fucking stove worked.

"Tig," Joss laughed, leaning back against him and turning her head towards him and looking up to kiss him, but the odd angle didn't allow for anything really good that could have persuaded her down onto the floor…no, over to the table, her sitting on it, him standing, that was better! "You're late," Joss said, and sadly she went back to her stirring.

Fuck…had he somehow misread the signals? Or was he just so hard-up that by now, everything looked like a signal? Joss hadn't quite been herself since the…incidents…and Tig had been too afraid of pushing her into something she wouldn't be able to deny him before she was ready to give it to him…but man…he wasn't built to not fuck something at least twice a day! What the hell? He'd been afraid of forcing himself on his property? Did that thought ever feel wrong and out of place inside his head! What was next? Curling up with Joss on the couch and watching the 'Lifetime Movie Channel?' Fuck no! But luckily, his dark, sweet, perfect angel wasn't into that "chick flick" shit…which was only one more reason that she was perfect. But, what exactly was she saying to him with this shirt on and nothing under it? Was she wantin' him, or was she just doing a lot of laundry today? Okay, Tig needed to gather more intelligence on this situation.

"I was on the phone with someone before I could leave," he said, and backed away from Joss and turned to go over and get a beer from the refrigerator, but looking over his shoulder to see if Joss leaned in his direction when he moved away…and she…did! Okay, point in his favor!

Joss laughed. "You were answering the phones today? That must have been fun for all involved!"

She didn't look at him when she spoke; fuck…point in the "no sex" column. "No, they did that once years ago, made me cover Gemma's lunch…we almost went out of business," Tig said, twisting off the cap on the bottle. "One fucking fat bitch comes in wearing this dress with palm tree leaves all over it, and all I said was, 'that's a lot of foliage!' and she gets all mad and shit."

"Tig!" Joss exclaimed, ashamed of him…fuck, another point in the "no sex" column, but then she laughed; yes! Another point for him! "That wasn't very nice of you, Wingnut! Are you going to talk about me that way if I get fat some day?"

Wingnut? What the hell column did he score that one in? Aw fuck, a point for both he and the "no sex" column. He took a swallow of his beer and smirked back at Joss, "not if you're wearing polka-dots!"

She dropped her spoon and shot him an exasperated glare over her shoulder. "You are such an ass!"

Damn…the "no sex" column was pulling ahead! C'mon…he needed it tonight…fuck tonight, he needed it NOW! He'd wanted to be close to her so badly that he'd been letting her snuggle up to him at night…and it was starting to not be so freaky…and that just wasn't right! If Tig had to fight for some pussy to make things right again…given pussy, not taken pussy, he'd do it! What the fuck? Why, all of a sudden, were there different rankings of pussy? Well, okay, so there always had been, but it hadn't been based on how it was gotten…shit, he really just needed to get laid before his head exploded…both of them! He walked back up to Joss, standing with his body right up against hers again, "I'm sorry, baby! You're not going to get fat…vegetarians don't eat enough to get fat." There! She hadn't reacted yet, but Tig was kicking himself a point anyway.

Joss shook her head, making Tig a little nervous that another point was about to be won by the "no sex" team, but then Joss leaned back into him, making him groan, and almost forgot to score another one for him…damn did she feel good against him like this! He had missed her, but he hadn't realized how much until now. "Hey," she said as he bent down over her, nuzzling her hair clear of her neck so he could rub the dark stubble of his cheek against it. "I know you've been trying to give me my space, and let me get myself figured out, but, I'm okay, Tig." Finally she turned away from the stove and faced him, her body still just as close to his as it had been when she didn't face him. Oh yeah, this was like a good one hundred points in his favor! Suck it, "no sex" column! Joss looked up at him, smiled a bit as she laid her palms against his chest, over his garage shirt, trying to rub his skin through the polyester, but it was okay, Tig was getting to like her touching him there, it meant she wanted him! "So, how's the shoulder feeling?"

And the "no sex" column went down in flames! Yes! Tig hooked her around the waist and drew her even closer, his body immediately remembering what it used to do to hers, and all systems were "go" to do it again! "What shoulder?" He asked her, then kissed her, moving her away from the stove and picking her up and sitting her on the counter top…it was actually higher than the table, so it would probably be even better!

He was surprised when Joss wasn't complaining about this being the counter top, where food was usually placed…that kind of stuff bothered her, but she wasn't saying a damn thing, just kissing him, sucking at his tongue and lips as her fingers worked rapidly to get his gray Teller-Morrow shirt unbuttoned and pushed away from his chest, not able to get it, or his cut off, but her fingers rushing through the dark curls beneath his shirt anyway, tracing some dual highway maps along the prominence of his pectoral muscles, her hands curving upwards and over the muscles, getting a good feel of him that made her moan a little, and that alone had Tig's big cock throbbing. Her hand fanned out over what she appreciatively held, lightly brushing each fingertip across his nipples. Tig felt sparks go off inside of him and growled, pulling her shirt up, wanting to take it off of her, but he couldn't remove it while he held her clamped to him the way he did, and he wasn't about to let go of her body, but he did remember that the stove was right there next to them, and not wanting Joss to inadvertently get burned as plunged nearly five days worth of pent up lust, desire and need into her, he grabbed her ankle, lifting her leg up, and hooking her foot over his good shoulder, her toes at the back of his neck, keeping her safe, and giving Tig so much wonderful access to something that was even more than wonderful! The fingers of his bad arm walked down her body, between her big, beautiful tits he hadn't sucked on or nipped at in days, over her flat stomach that hadn't quivered at his touch since last Friday, his digits heading straight down into the moist heat he could already taste on the air from between her legs…and then his cell rang.

Both of them stopped abruptly and sighed, since Joss's hands were closest, she fished inside his cut to the pocket she knew his cell was in pulling it out, even as Tig was advancing on her again and starting to kiss her neck. "Fuck 'em, I'll take it later!" He insisted breathlessly, ignoring the ringing phone in her hands.

"No you won't," Joss said looking down mournfully at the phone. "It's Clay."

"Motherfucker!" He grabbed the phone from Joss and took a deep breath before flipping it open, not angry of course at Clay for calling, it was just the timing of it all…shit, he hadn't fucked Joss in what felt like forever, and while there had been plenty of other 'holes' he could have 'filled' hanging around the clubhouse, it just wouldn't have been the same…fuck…had he really just thought that? Damn that girl! She was sneaking all kinds of below the belt shit in on him! Whatever, talk to Clay, then fuck the hell outta Joss…hard…really hard…for making him stay true to her…get all the bang for his buck and buck for his bang…whatever the fuck that meant…he was going to "nike" it and "just do it!" "Yeah?" He said into the phone, and then turned and took the call back out into the garage, shutting both the screen door and the house door behind him.

"Got something on my mind I wanted to run past you before 'church' Friday," Clay said as Tig tried to refocus himself and get some blood running to other areas of his body besides his dick, poking around the workbench, assessing what he was missing and where things had been relocated too…fucking chipmunk…he had a whole stash of shit in the narrow space between the garage wall and the stacks of bike tires, little sticks and twigs and hair and washers and screws, a brass fastener and even a gum wrapper, all stuck out just where Tig could see it…little fucker had his own little clubhouse back there…

"Okay," Tig replied to Clay, hoping this was nothing bad, things were so nearly back to the way they were when Tig had actually felt good for the first time in he couldn't remember how long. It made him a little less crazy, but that was okay, because Joss was the one who noticed it the most, and she wasn't going to tell anyone. "What's up? What can I do?"

Clay's words became a little cryptic. "That, uh, mechanic we had working in the clubhouse the other night," he said and paused, waiting for Tig's affirmation that he was following along, which of course he was, and was now hoping that everything he'd said to Joss about no one turning their backs on either of them was still holding true. "We gotta do something to mark that occasion, that's SAMCRO legend now, and it deserves some… commemoration, so that every brother in this club now, or joining it in the future, knows why we're still here."

Holy fuck! "Clay, man," Tig was a little apprehensive though. "Mechanic's already wearing a patch, I don't want to even see an honorary cut awarded…no 'MC' on her back, shit goes down, she'd be just as fucked as we are."

Clay's laughter surprised Tig. "Yeah, I'm sure that was your first thought about a awarding a cut!" He chuckled. "That ain't what I was talking about, brothers are brothers; they'll never be sisters." He promised, and Tig relaxed a bit, now able to feel the honor that should have come with Clay's suggestion at the start of this conversation. His Joss, his dark, sweet, perfect angel was going to have her very own place of prominence within SAMCRO! "But I think we do need a patch," said Clay. "And since you're the owner of our little muse here, you think about what it's going to be, what it'll look like, and we'll announce it at 'church,' maybe have a few made up by then to hand out."

Tig was smiling, he couldn't make himself stop, first the horse, then Joss wanted to fuck him, and now this! Yeah…his girl, she was…wow! Nope, no one had an old lady like her, no one! And, Jax was going to be shittin' love beads…sitting there all smug cuz his old lady was a 'physician'…but until the club had a use, purpose, or some whimsical need of a "worthless cunt" patch, doctor bitch was as useless and vain as Jax was himself! "Yeah!" Tig answered, more emotion about it in his voice than he'd planned to let show, but hey, it was Clay he was talking to, it was cool. "I'll have something for you by tomorrow!" And he would, this patch was going to be easy to come up with, he could already see it in his mind, and it was perfect, as perfect as his dark little angel was herself! God damn, he couldn't wait to tell Joss about this! But like the horse, he'd wait, hopefully there'd be some made up by Friday night, and he could show them to her at the party, and then tell her!

"Great," Clay replied, and Tig could hear the smile in his voice. "You take care of that girl," he said. "Cuz you really are blessed with having that one to put up with your crazy-ass shit."

Tig laughed, looked back towards the kitchen, but he'd closed all the doors to keep club business club business, but he still smiled when he thought of Joss. "Yeah, I am." Out of the corner of his eye, Tig saw something move down around the sticks and the twigs and the hair and stolen shiny objects on the floor by the bike tires. That fucking chipmunk! What was he stuffing away in his little lair that was really Tig's this time? Joss would be really mad if he killed the little fucker…but maybe if Tig could just catch him in one of the now near empty jars his screws had been in and then just find him another little chipmunk place to be that was far away from the garage? He'd even toss in a washer or two, just so the little fucker would have something to start over with. But he couldn't attempt this with only one hand…"Clay, thanks a lot, man." Tig said sincerely, but he hoped that this would bring about the end of the conversation…not only did he have a chipmunk to evict, but he had Joss warming in the kitchen too!

"Don't mention it," Clay answered. "Talk to you tomorrow about that patch, see ya then." And the line went dead.

Great! Tig set his phone down on the workbench as he picked up the jar, dumping the three remaining screws out of it and walking softly over across the garage, first setting the jar down in front of all the sticks and twigs and shit, then going to the opposite end of the stacked tires from where the chipmunk's clubhouse was, pushing them up against the wall all of the way, sealing the "back door" shut. He heard something behind the tires move, like he'd startled it…good; the little fucker was home…hopefully, he'd appear in the jar soon! Tig quickly moved back to the lair side of the tires, crouching down and peering into the narrow space between them and the wall…yeah, there was something still in there alright…come on out, little fucker! Something rustled again, sounded sorta pissed off…and Tig could hear it approaching the jar. He reached down and held it steady, eagerly awaiting the emergency of the little rat.

And then something did appear, like a flash, but it didn't run, or scamper, or scurry, or any of the things Tig was expecting. It lunged, its scaly head throttling out ahead of its long cream colored and tan body that was covered with even darker brown saddles, and it bit him, hard, every tooth sinking in deeply, right on his hand.