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 63

"Joss!" The sound of the front door opening, followed by Tig's bellowing had been unexpected; it was only quarter to one, but Joss just turned towards the basement steps as she continued to separate the laundry, hoping he hadn't rushed home from the garage with some fresh idea for incorporating yet some other major kitchen appliance into the wild, unpredictable escapade their sex life was lately. This day had already been exciting enough…she really needed a break. Some time to get over what the morning had been like was in order, Joss had never had to take charge of a situation where a little thing like a "plus" or a "minus" sign was going to drastically change a life, and she'd never had to get her girls in line like that and settle everyone's worries and deal out so much strength, it was sort of exhausting. A few quiet moments of contemplative laundry-doing would have been nice…but if Tig needed her, she was there!

"Down here," she yelled calmly up the steps, encouraged when she didn't hear Tig go anywhere near the kitchen…of course, there other random objects in the house he could be mulling over at the moment. Oh well…Joss would just take her chances and see what she got.

Tig's footsteps were lumbering overhead in no time, and soon he was halfway down the basement steps, sounding like a jack hammer was soon to be on the landing. He looked…unusual. "Are you okay?" She asked, examining him from where she stood about twenty-five feet away at the washer. "You're home awfully early."

"I left, but I have to go back." He explained. "I called you to, but then I hung up, cuz I was afraid you'd answer."

"What?" Joss was shaking her head and trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Aren't we a little bit passed that 'Oh my God, she picked up!' stage?"

Apparently it was becoming clear to Tig that he looked and sounded absurd and out of control. He took a deep breath, centered himself; instantly looked more like himself, and just for an added bit of tranquility, now he leaned against the railing. "So," he asked her, ignoring how this had all started. "What are you doing today?"

"Tig," Joss was looking him over again, searching for whatever was with him, that wasn't exactly the smoothest of transitions, or most natural of postures. He looked like a mannequin that someone had dressed up in biker jeans and a garage smock, and leaned it there on the steps; the only thing missing was his arm slightly raised and him looking down at his watch. "Okay, what the hell did you take, or smoke, this time? Just tell me, I won't be mad, I promise."

But Tig laughed like he'd lived and learned. "Oh, you say that, but you never mean it, do you?"

"Tig, God damn it!" Joss half shouted at him. "Now you're making me worry about you, would you just tell me what you did?"

He sighed. "Nothing," he said, and then he sighed again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be all freaking you out…I'm just…I got something—" but he paused right there, and seemed like someone had to push "play" again.

"What do you have?" Shit…he'd taken something…she knew it! And he'd done it at work no less, where all the tools and machines were that could kill him…great! "Okay, never mind…I don't even want to know anymore…just go upstairs, lay down, and I'll call Clay for you to tell him you're taking the rest of the day off."

"What?" He asked, making a face like now she sounded as odd to him as he did to her. "No, I'm good, really! Baby, you gotta believe me, I didn't take shit, I swear to God!" Joss wanted to believe him, and she stood there looking at him like she wanted to, which made Tig roll his eyes and take yet another deep breath. "Okay, I'm going back upstairs, and then I'm coming down again, and we're going to do this whole thing over again, but without you thinking I'm having some weed high nightmare, and without me acting like a retard, we good?"

"Okay," Joss replied, still perplexed, but before she even had the whole word out, Tig was going up the stairs, across the living room, and all the way back to the front door. What the hell was going on with him? He'd been a little stranger than his normal kind of strange ever since the CBA's, but now he was…well, yeah he was acting strangely, but it was almost out of some kind of excitement that he just couldn't contain…like a super distracted little kid…with hyperactivity disorder.

The front door opened and closed again. Wow, they really were doing this whole thing over again! "Joss!" Tig bellowed once more. She rolled her eyes but laughed a bit, and went back to sorting lights and darks for the washer.

"Still down here," she yelled again, and laughed a little more; she loved her man so much…no two days were the same with Tig…but he better not have been lying about not being on anything!

Again he walked above her, but calmly this time, his strides collected, and as he came half way down the steps, it no longer sounded like a herd of elephants. "Hey," he smiled at her, just like he would have any other time, that wasn't a "take two."

"Hey," she said back, but couldn't help cocking her head at him and giving him that 'I love you, but you're such an idiot' look, but Joss kept most of her attention on rifling through the pockets of his jeans to make sure there was nothing in there that wouldn't be washer friendly…ever since he'd left those forty-five caliber rounds in his pocket, Joss always checked…that had been a stupid fucking worry to have…not knowing where the bullets had rolled inside the washing machine, or what heat source they'd come up against, just knowing that at any moment, she stood a chance of being lethally shot by a top-loading, eight cycle, duet fabric care system Whirlpool! But she looked at Tig and she smiled at him; she really did love him, no one had a man like her man! "So, give me a sec to get this done, and I'll get you some lunch."

"Na," Tig shook his head, and damn if he didn't seem completely normal now. Okay, she'd go with it. "I gotta get back to garage," he said. "I just stopped by to see what you were doing."

Joss still wasn't sure what he was up to, or had been up to, but it was obviously something, because that was an asinine reason for him to come home. "Well," she sighed, refusing to question him for fear that he'd fall apart again, and then want to do this whole thing over again, one more time. Besides, he was much calmer now, like nothing had ever happened. She should probably take her cue from that. "Right now, I'm doing laundry, then I'm going to go work with Sam and on my way home, I'm stopping by the store to get the shopping done for the week." Tig stood there on the steps, placidly nodding his head. "You need anything while I'm out?" She asked, because she would have any other time.

"Yeah," he said, and tried to think, "razors."

"Okay," Joss nodded, "the kind with three blades or the kind with four blades, because last time I got the wrong ones, and you had problems with them irritating your neck."

"Shit! Yeah!" Tig remembered, and stood there calmly trying to think again, so suddenly focused now…but whatever, it was just good to see. "The ones with four," he said, but then shook his head. "No three." He abruptly re-decided, but then furrowed his brow as he considered it further, "no, four."

"How about if I see if they make any with seven?" Joss laughed, but looked at him standing there like he was waiting for something to happen. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, stop asking me that!" He demanded, his voice an annoyed whine. "I missed you, okay? That's all."

"Did you?" She couldn't help smile, and well, yeah, that might have been it. Tig realizing he missed her when she was just seven minutes away, and also that he missed her despite living with her, would have shorted out his little circuits for awhile. He had been kind of lovey lately, not as much as a normal guy would have been on a consistent basis, but hell, Joss had difficulties some nights trying to make dinner, because not only were kitchen utensils spread all over between the steps and bedroom, but also because Tig was pressed up against her from behind, playing with her hair, or rubbing her sides and her back and kissing her neck. "You're not turning into the 'sensitive type' on me, are you?" She laughed, now beginning to put clothing into the washer and laughing a little more when Tig sneered at her.

"I'm outta here," he groaned, and started up the steps, but he looked kind of glad that she'd saved him from what he'd said, which had been her purpose; Joss by now knew how this worked. "I'll be home around five."

"See ya then," she smiled up the stairs at him, and before he was to the top, she walked a little towards the steps and shouted. "And I miss you, too!" She knew he wouldn't answer or even acknowledge, and he didn't. He just walked across the living room again and she heard the front door open and shut for a third time. "I love you too, Crazy-Nutso," she murmured to herself as she smiled, and walked back to the washer and the pile of dirty clothes, but by the time she'd gotten back there, the front door opened and closed again, and Tig bounded across the floorboards again, clunking down the basement steps like he was in some new rush.

"Hey," he said again, and didn't look quite as calm in 'take three' as he had in 'take two,' but he wasn't doing the drugged up and out mannequin thing either. "I forgot something."

Okay, this must have been about the razors, or something else he needed at the store, but he looked so…intentioned about what he came to add to her list. "What?" Joss asked, grabbing a handful of dirty socks, a pair of Tig's boxer-briefs dangling from her fingers with them.

He took a deep breath, but after he did, he was Tig again, no nervousness, no hyped up, wide eyed, wheels turning faster than his engine could go, aura about him. He looked at her, steadily, smiled a little, like he might laugh, but he didn't. "Hey," he said again, but he was so in control now, but this wasn't some kind of "look at me, get it together" kind of thing, he was just, Tig. Well, maybe there really was nothing to this? Joss looked up at him and nodded her head, showing him she was listening, but went back to gathering the dirty laundry, separating his dark boxer briefs from his lighter ones. And that's when Tig finally spoke. "Would you marry me?"

What? What! Joss froze where she was, half leaned over into a pile of unwashed laundry. Did he really just say that? No, he couldn't have…he'd said it too much like he was asking her to pass the salt or something. But her damn memory was photographic; she knew what Tig had said…it was echoing in her mind right now…but had she maybe misunderstood? Did she only hear the word "marry?" Maybe he said "canary," or "dairy," or "fairy." No, Tig would definitely not want anyone to "fairy" him! "Bury!" Yeah, maybe he'd said "Would you bury me?" That sorta almost made sense coming from him! But no…Joss knew what she heard…the "M" word! Oh shit!

"Joss!" Tig called to her from the steps, but not like he was panicked or even that concerned, but if this is what he'd come home to ask her, no wonder he'd been so rattled at the start. He was staring at her over there, an odd sculpture placed among the unclean delicates. "Alright, what did you take?" He teased accusingly, grinning at her. "See? That's annoying as shit, being asked that when you didn't fucking take anything, right little girl?"

"Tig!" She groaned, this wasn't funny. Oh hell! Oh God! Oh no! Finally she straightened herself, squeezing the 'unmentionables' in her hands now. "Okay, just so I know I'm not catching your crazy, what did you just ask me?" She knew by now very well what he'd said…she was just stalling, and she hoped that didn't show. She had to think of what to do here, fast!

Tig sighed, but he smiled still. "Would you marry me?" He re-asked her, just as casually and unceremoniously as he'd said it the first time.

Why was he asking her that? He was never supposed to ask her that! She wore a property patch, why was more needed than that? He'd proposed? Yeah, he had! And now…she had to answer him. Fuck! Was this even happening? Joss looked up at him, doing her best to remain calm; she looked at her man, he was so full of crazy surprises, "for real or hypothetically?" Well, that was a valid enough question, particularly given Tig was the one doing the asking.

He furrowed his brow and seemed to put a lot of thought into what she'd said, like she'd brought up a very good point. "Yeah." He finally answered, and Joss would have laughed if she wasn't so hysterical.

Damn! Now what? Joss looked downwards a minute, she really didn't want to make him angry, or hurt him…but, how did she get out of this without doing either one? Her knuckles were as white as the 'unmentionables' she squeezed in her hands…and then she looked up at Tig again, having found a way to belay this stand-off. "Do I have to answer you with dirty underwear in my hands?"

Tig looked at her and made a face again, laughing this time as he focused on what she held. "I'm sorry, baby," he said. "I guess flowers would be better than my drawers, huh?"

Joss nodded, trying to appear normal…well, maybe not normal, because what woman was "normal" when she'd just been proposed to? But she didn't want to seem scared out of her mind, either. "Yeah," she said and threw the clothing into the washer, willing herself not over or under-do her reaction. "That would be a prettier picture," she agreed, but then also didn't want to get Tig's hopes up. "But, I don't really need the flowers either."

"Okay," Tig sighed, and he was coming all the way down the stairs now. "C'mere," he told her as he approached her, and Joss, so in need of shelter from everything storming her mind and her feelings, ran to him, wishing she could just disappear in his arms, and Tig hugged her so tightly, she thought maybe she had. He leaned down and kissed her, actually dipping her backwards as he held her to him, ala 'sailor kissing nurse' in Times Square, 1945. Wow, he'd never done that before…he must have really wanted to get married! Really? Tig? Joss was so dizzy when he stood her back upright again that all she could do was cling to him. "Here's what we're going to do," he said, laying his cheek to the top of her head and holding her even tighter, her palms flat against his chest, but he pressed more against her until she understood that he did want her arms around him this time, Joss immediately granting him that and snuggled even more into him, and the ironic safeness he was at the moment. "This is that thing I was telling you about, that I had to say to you, but I didn't know what it was?" He reminded her. "When I figured it out this morning, I just had to get it out, and it came out all…insane," he admitted, laughing again. "So, when I come home tonight, we're going to do this again, the right way, and then neither one of us will be so fucked up over it. We good?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice muffled against his broad chest, and she hugged him even tighter. But no, they weren't "good," and it sucked, because Tig was so confident in this, like he knew she was going to say "yes," and he was really really putting himself "out there" and doing something he could have never imagined entering into again. And he was so happy about it…he loved her this damn much?

"Alright, good," he said, releasing her. "I gotta get back to work; you got things to do, so tell crazy Sammy I said 'hi' and I'll see you back here at around five, okay?"

"Yeah," Joss said again, and she couldn't help smiling a bit, and was slow to let go of him; yeah, he loved her that damn much, but he did have to get back to work and she had to figure out how she was going to handle this.

Tig turned and started back up the stairs again, then stopped one more time and looked back at her. "Four blades, baby! Those are the ones!" He smiled at her, then continued up the stairs.

"Okay," Joss acknowledged, and tried to settle herself down, but she felt like…like an awful, evil, vile thing. "I love you!" She yelled as Tig summit-ed the steps.

"I know!" He shouted back, and then he was walking across the living room, out the front door, and Joss stood in the basement listening until she heard his bike start and then pull away.

Oh no! She collapsed down to her knees now, she was so drained. How had all this happened? Of all the things for Tig to say…"would you marry me" was the one that could have fucked things up the most between them…and he'd said it! Joss had no idea what to do here; she'd never been thinking she'd be in this position. Of course, she didn't ever entertain thoughts of pregnancy tests and the outcomes, but she'd been able to hold Lauren together nonetheless…but this was nothing like that. Shit! She couldn't handle this one alone…she had to talk to someone…and there was only one someone who could handle this. She ran up the stairs, checking again out the window to make sure Tig wasn't doing another encore then picked up her cellphone, instantly dialing the number she knew better than any other she'd ever called. It didn't ring very long, and despite the warm greeting of, "Joss, how are you, baby girl?" Joss let her panic take over, replying with the words, "Gemma! I have a big problem!"