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 59

"Please don't come out of there in handcuffs…" Joss prayed, standing outside the make-shift police station at the CBA's. It was dark, likely after three in the morning, and it was just her and Opie…which was wrong…maybe…it had to be…it just had to be, even though Tig had yet to give her any official instructions…all he'd done was hand her a gun and said, "I won't get in your way this time," and Joss did have her gun…but really, what was she supposed to do? Both she and Ope stared together at the little shed-hut kind of building that Tig was currently being held within for questioning, asinine light and siren equipped golf carts parked outside of it. Shit…this could really make what was already a bad weekend for Tig much much worse! He was right though, he shouldn't have been allowed around civilians…or wannabes.

Not that the guy didn't deserve it…Joss was with Tig, walking back to his bike to head home, it was dark, Tig's arm around her waist, and his patch on her back, there was no way that anyone who saw them couldn't have known who she belonged to, it was more than clear. But there just wasn't enough deterrent in the world for stupid! Maybe the asshole was drunk, it was a good possibility, but really, that didn't make it okay anyway…wannabes…nothing could have proven more that the asshole definitely was not one percent like directly violating Joss's patch, and grabbing her ass! It had been such a shock that Joss had actually screamed, but more out of anger than anything else, but a scream was a scream, and it likely hadn't helped things. It was not only Tig's right, but also his duty, to react, to protect what was his, but the way he did and what he did to the wannabe…well, that was just the misfortune of having touched Tig's old lady…Tig immediately grabbed his knife and spun around on the guy, knocking him down, and as the ass-grabber began to plead and blubber, that's when Tig had noticed the same thing Joss had noticed…there on the wannabe's forearm, the ultimate disrespect…a diamond shaped tat, with a number one and a percent sign within it.

Tig lost it, commenced living up to every bit of the name and rep he'd fixed for himself, and before Joss knew it, her man slashed the blade of his knife across the wannabe's elbow, the asshole screaming, Tig's foot going to his neck and standing squarely on it until he shut up, then Tig slashed at the arm again, hacking through muscle, tendon, cartilage, ligament…all the way through, slipping the blade cleanly through the joint and pulling on the hand below the offending ink, slicing and slicing with his knife, until Joss heard a sickening "pop" and Tig arose, standing straight, holding the fingers of the hand, attached to the arm that was no longer attached to the wannabe.

Tig fought to catch his breath, shook the blood from his knife then held the arm, unwarranted one percent tattoo and all, up to her, his eyes still crazed, but he knew all that was happening and all that he was doing. "This the one he touched you with, baby? Or I gotta take the other one too?"

But Joss was too shocked to speak…fuck…if she did something like that to someone, she wouldn't be able to talk right now, she'd still be screeching and wailing and flailing around…but Tig? He was in total control! And he'd just cut a man's fucking arm off! Oh God! What happened now? Opie, that's what happened, appearing from the SAMCRO tent, gun drawn, checking the area, instantly seeing Tig, her and the mess on the ground, a severed arm in Tig's grasp.

"Shit," Joss had heard Ope grunt, then he ran over to where she and Tig were, and somehow, likely given Tig's obvious attitude towards civilians, Opie knew all. The wannabe was coughing and choking on the ground, trying to scream now and get to his feet, about to draw a lot of attention to something that had actually gone down rather unnoticed…but then, there had been a reason for why Clay had put the SAMCRO "camp" so far away from the front door of the CBA's. Tig still faced Joss, still holding the severed arm by the fingers, he wanted to know he'd done right by her, and she was nodding, still trying to process it all when two close range shots from Opie's gun made her flinch a little and look up in time to see Ope drawing his weapon away from the wannabe's head, who now lay silently still on the ground. Opie looked up first at her, then at Tig. "What happened?" He asked him then snuck a glance in at her. "Joss okay?"

Tig stiffened, closed his eyes a moment, looking like Opie had just asked something that he'd been telling him never to ask. "She's good," he answered, without looking at Ope, just looked back and Joss and softened his features as he spoke to her. "It's okay," he whispered, trying to keep his words from Ope, reaching out and taking her hand in the one that wasn't still holding the fingers of the severed arm. "You don't deserve to be treated like that, and you won't be!"

Joss nodded, but glanced down at the arm Tig was still holding, blood seeping from it, the color draining from the hairy skin and the one percent ink. He definitely knew how to dismember though, the cut was as clean as if a butcher had taken the shank end ham off of a pig…thoughts of her father crossed Joss's mind and she smiled up at her man. "I love you," she said to him quietly, then remembered Opie was nearby, she placed both of her hands on Tig's chest and stepped closer to him. "I love you more than anything!" She said, louder this time, and raised herself up on her toes to kiss him, Tig not sure he wanted it at the moment, but as soon as her lips touched his, he dropped the severed arm and wrapped his hand around the back of her head, turning a quick peck into something reserved for Hollywood endings.

Opie looked like he was recalling that particular scene now as they stood here by his bike, and Joss tried not to study his frown, or the heartache in his eyes; she focused on the little police station, waiting, hoping Tig would appear, unescorted. No one knew anything, it was the asshole's friends who had gotten concerned when their buddy hadn't returned to their camp, and they all knew he'd apparently said something about going to go "check out that piece of SAMCRO ass one more time," after which he'd disappeared. Lodi, being Lodi and not Charming, had their authorities all over that disappearance, even though it had been much less than the forty-eight hours usually required before any investigation had begun, but that was purely because an MC had been named in the disappearance.

"What did you do with him?" Joss asked Opie, still not sure if she had the go ahead to talk to him or not, but right now, he was all she had, and he'd been there for her too…trying to offer her a ride on the back of his bike over to the police station where Tig had been taken, but Joss had only shook her head, saying nothing then. But Ope had understood, and still wasn't about to let her walk over there alone, in the dark, and he'd driven beside her, at the slowest pace he could, illuminating the way for both of them with the lights on his bike. Clay had been informed of the possible trouble, and he was on the phone with lawyers already, and Charming PD, getting everything in order, just incase. The rest of the club would be here soon, when they knew something, no one would come until they had legal muscle to deal out. Tig was already in the "custody" of the authorities, there was no busting in and getting him out; they'd wait for the lawyers, but they would come. However at the moment, it was only Joss and Ope who waited.

"The woods over there," Opie looked off in the direction he spoke of. "Lot's of underbrush and some fallen limbs, lots of sticker bushes," he said. "No one's going through there; it'll take a lot to find anything."

Joss nodded. "Thank you," she said, because it was due to Opie to hear that, he hadn't had to 'take care of business,' but he had, leaving she and Tig to be together and do whatever consoling he figured they'd needed to. They should have just gone home then, not stuck around necking on his bike again and feeling each other up…but it had been what they'd needed, contact with the other, a few moments of uninterrupted closeness…that had ended with the authorities finding them, finding Tig. It was a heart wrenching thought that she and her man might ever be separated, but having been faced with it amidst such passionate and physically expressed devotion that flowed like their very own energy between one another, that each needed to live, was unbelievably horrific; Joss would have put it on the scale of how photos from Nazi concentration camps made her feel…being apart from her man, losing him, it would be that awful combination of anger, despair, fear and heart break. It already was, Joss had been okay earlier tonight…but now, she really was in need of some consoling, feeling herself starting to gear up…or down…thoughts of shooting her way into that little police station and just letting lose her beast, and getting her man back, ever increasing in her head…she was so scared, and she loved Tig so much! "He can't leave me," she said, and began to feel tears in her eyes, but tried hard not to let them show in front of Ope. "He can't be arrested for this!"

"If he is, we'll raise bond, then make the charges go away." Ope promised without looking at her, just staring at the station "house," or so Joss thought, but when she happened to look towards him, she noticed he was quickly turning his eyes away from her. He'd been watching her, seeing her budding tears, saying anything he could think of that might stop them.

"And how much is bail going to be for something like this?" Joss asked, really needing to have an answer, though she knew Opie likely didn't have a clear idea of how much, and she probably shouldn't have been relying on him, of all of Tig's brothers, right now. He was, for the most part, just trying to say what she wanted to hear, anyway.

"Doesn't matter," Ope replied, and looked at her again. "He's a brother, we'll make it work."

All of a sudden Joss realized she was looking back at Opie as well, eye to eye, her heart pounding, but Tig was her every thought. "Please tell me you're not just saying that." She begged, and more tears pushed at the dam of her eyes.

Opie still looked at her, didn't nod, didn't squint; didn't move at all. "You love him that much?"

For some reason, she didn't want to answer that, but she of course did. Now was as good a time as any to reinforce what her feelings were for Tig. "He's not easy to get along with, he's not loveable, or even all that compassionate; he's never even said to me that he loves me, but that's okay, I don't care about that. He's mine, and I'm his, and maybe one day he'll bite down hard enough to tear out a piece of me, and swallow it…and if he does, I'll let him, because I understand what he needs, and I need him the same way."

Opie said nothing in response; he looked downwards, toyed with the knife on his hip a little then sighed. "You know that if that day does ever come, that he hurts you, and you can't stand it anymore—"

"Ope, No!" Joss's voice was strong and so was the way she stood there, shaking her head, despite how submerged in icy water she suddenly felt. No, she didn't want to hear any words of attachment or commitment from Ope, he wouldn't be the one who waited for her in the wings…no, it would never be like that.

"Yes," he said, standing there just as strong, unstoppable in what he intended to say. "I don't know why this shit happens," he said, so careful in how he kept his hands to himself, but he was a master at "not really doing anything" after all. "I know you love Tig, and I respect that, I do, even if you don't believe it when I say so. But I mean it, Joss, I'm here, I'm waiting, and I'm not going to be cool with it if he ever does hurt you in a way you can't handle."

"And yet you think you can handle me?" Joss was more agitated now, felt like she was rushing around in this conversation, hurriedly locking doors and windows and sealing up any other places she feared Opie might somehow be able to "get in." "You know what I am, you saw it. You can't handle me, Ope. Trust me on that one."

"I saw love and fidelity being fought for brazenly and with no apologies," he replied. "I may hang with Jax, but not every one of our thoughts about shit is the same." Opie paused a moment, Joss too stunned to speak as he did, too startled that he'd seen what Tig had seen when she'd taken that wrench to Stahl. She wished she could deny it, but she couldn't, Opie did understand, but now he seemed to be struggling with something else, some other part of this puzzle that Joss couldn't predict existed. "You may have saved Tig, but you have no way of knowing how you saved me with him."

"She didn't shoot you," Joss reminded, trying to find anyway she could to distance herself and her deed from Ope.

"No," Ope agreed. "But my wife's dead because of her, and when I had the chance to even that score, I let it slip." He said, looking off again, his eyes a bit glassy as well. "But you? You didn't let anything slip; you didn't care about mercy, you cared about Tig. You got in there and made right a wrong, for both of us. You freed me, and because of that," Opie looked back at her, his eyes so heavily, yet steadily, on hers that it made Joss gasp. "I'm here…waiting for you."

Joss's heart raced, this truth was awful…but powerful…she held another heart in her hands, and the responsibility was mind-crushing. Why was he doing this? She didn't want to hurt him! "Ope," she felt a tear run down from her eye and she shook her head. "I can't."

"I know," he nodded, and looked down again. "And Stahl may have put Donna in the firing line, but it was your old man who killed her…under the assumption that it was me he was shooting at…Stahl made me look like rat, Clay did the planning, Tig did the shooting, and Donna? She did the dying."

Now Joss was silent, so silent and so…fixedly terrified of what she'd already known…all the clues had been there, but now, the puzzle was complete. She started to feel dizzy, the dark was getting darker…and then she realized that some time had passed and she hadn't taken a breath, doing so now as if she were suddenly pulled out from beneath violent waves that threatened to keep her under, and there were more tears spilling from her eyes now…she looked at Opie, weeping openly and shaking her head. "I know," she could barely force out the words…and she knew there was nothing she could say that would make this right.

"It's not your fault," Ope said, still looking down. "But I still thought you should know, because I want you to know where I'm coming from, you need to know what you did for me, and you need to know how much I hate this…poetic justice of wanting what's Tig's."

"Then stop!" Joss cried, feeling as though someone had reached insid her chest and was squeezing every drop of blood out of her heart. "Please!"

Opie looked up shaking his head, staring at her sadly; his eyes moving everywhere on her face, the faceted green gems within the black Egyptian Princess frames, her mouth, her skin, taking all of her in that he could. "I wish I could," he said, and then he finally did something, raising his hand and gently laying it to the side of her face, his littlest finger softly behind her ear, his thumb lovingly stroking her chin, and his remaining fingers spanning her cheek and jaw, pressing lightly into the softness and caressing all that he held. "But I can't stop; I'm here." He said again, looking at her in a manner that only seemed to get deeper and deeper, "I loved Donna, she was a beautiful woman, a good mother…but the sad reality is that if she were a little more like you, she'd still be here."

Joss trembled and tried to look away, "don't—" she began to say, so aware of Opie's racing heart in his touch, trying to not feel it, trying to ignore how he touched her, but then she couldn't ignore it or him, his beard brushing her face and lips as his mouth pressed to hers, his other arm enveloping her and holding her tightly to him, the hand that held her face slipping away to join in the embrace of her, his taste more than on her lips now, strange and different, but ever increasing. Joss felt some part of her concede this one small victory to him, letting his tongue find hers and meet briefly, his hands moving up and down her back, lavishing in touching her and feeling her, though her arms remained at her sides. She felt him start to pull away and tried to herself, but no, Opie only tilted his head the other direction and deepened the kiss again, like trying to get all that he could here and now, leaning her back against his bike as soon as Joss had felt herself getting dizzy again, unable to believe this was really happening, that it wasn't a fitful dream this time. She owed him nothing, but he was still taking it…or was she giving it? No! She jerked her head away from his sharply and looked off over her shoulder, making him stop.

Ope gasped and sighed all in one, his arms slowly releasing her, but Joss didn't look at him, she couldn't. "That had to happen," he said. "And so does this," she braced herself for some other physical…encounter, but Ope drew back from her completely, stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out something that he pressed into her hand, pulled her away from his bike, getting on, and giving her one last look as he started the Harley Dyna, and then sped away.

What…no, she knew what…it was the last attempt of a desperate man, so spurred on by his grief, his hatred and his desire that in that one weak moment, he'd taken a chance, he'd gone after what he wanted, what he needed…what he knew he'd only have that one, perfect time…this was not the start of something, it had lasted far too long and become too intense; had Opie been planning to kiss her again, or do more than kiss her, he never would have poured out all that he had into that one. It was a kiss goodbye; he'd said what he'd wanted to say, he'd made sure she understood, and they'd had their one moment…and now they would go their separate ways…even if he was still there, waiting.

There was something in her hand, and Joss had some vague memory of Ope tucking something against her palm. She looked down, opening her fingers, and finding a Ten Patch staring back at her. He'd presented her with her award, for Stahl…no, for Donna, in her honor. It was over, at least for Ope and her; he and Tig would need more time, much more time, but for she and Ope, yeah, it had come to its head and now it would remain hidden, but something in Joss made her reach inside her patch and grab the Glock from her pocket, taking a deep breath as she extended it out in front of her, her stance perfect, as was her aim, the end sight square on the back of Opie's head as he drove away in the dark…but she just stood there, watching him drive further and further away…tears rolling down her cheeks as she did, but she wasn't sure why she was crying, or even where she was anymore…until a voice reminded her.

"Why didn't you take the shot?" The question was asked calmly, the voice didn't sound angry, but it was serious…and it was also Tig's.