And to the lovelies who review regularly, thank you! It really does warm my heart and keep me going. :)
i'll be silver and i'll be gold
without a heart without even a soul, i'll be coal
i won't be blood and teeth and skin
and i won't feel the pain i'm in
i'll be tin, no heart within
Bob Schneider, "Metal and Steel"
Olivia was at home when she took the call. The garage was closed for the day, and she still didn't have her car, so she'd been cleaning and trying to read for most of the morning. She had decided to work in the yard for a bit when her phone rang.
Bobby didn't sound happy, and something about his voice made her nervous. He had ordered her (that was the only word for it) to stay where she was. He and Jax were on their way. She told him she wasn't going anywhere and hung up. She stared at the phone for a long time and debated calling someone.
Juice? No. Pointless. He wouldn't know what was going on any more than she did, and seeing him here might just piss Jax off.
Chibs? Possible. But he was Jax' Sergeant-at-Arms, and he would be loyal to Jax and the club before anyone else.
She set the phone down with a sigh. There was no one. They were her friends. They might even love her. But, bottom line, everyone she knew in Charming had a stake in SAMCRO, and any of them would choose the club over her if it came down to it. She frowned. Well. There was one person, but if Jax and Bobby showed up and found a cop in her house they really would flip their shit.
She dialed his number anyway. When he answered she hesitated so long that he repeated his greeting and asked if anyone was there.
"Eli!" she said. "Sorry. I—my phone cut out for a sec. This's Olivia. Gable."
"Olivia," he said, his voice turning wary. "How are you?"
"Oh, you know. Car-less. Still."
"Ahh." He laughed a little. "I'm workin' on it. By the end of the week, I promise."
"I'll hold you to that. And if anything's happened to him—"
"Your car's fine, Olivia." A pause. "Is that really why you're calling?"
She rose and paced to the window. What could she say? She had no idea why Jax and Bobby wanted to talk to her, and for all she knew it could be something completely innocent. Or something about the garage. Or, fuck, they wanted her to build them an ark. One could never tell the ideas that would occur to Jackson Teller.
"Of course," she finally said. "That car is my baby."
He made a low, skeptical noise. "You need a ride somewhere? I can send one of my deputies by—"
"The San Joaquin County Sheriff's Department is a taxi service now?"
"Olivia—"
"Eli. I'm fine. Your concern is duly noted."
"You hear about these home invasions?"
"Yup," she said. "It's all the buzz around TM."
"You live pretty far out. Not a lot of neighbors."
"I've got good locks. Don't worry about me."
"Locks. Right." She heard him sigh. "Take care of yourself, Olivia. Call me if you need anything. I'll have your car for you by Friday."
"Thanks, Eli. I appreciate it."
They rung off and she tucked the phone into her back pocket. She knew she hadn't fooled him, but there wasn't really anything he could do if she refused his help. It was good to know he'd meant what he'd said the night he dropped her off, though. It was a fucked up world, she reflected, when the only person she could trust to be completely on her side was a goddamn cop.
She shook her head and wandered toward the bedroom to change into something presentable. She didn't really want to have whatever conversation she was about to have in her gardening clothes. She chose a pair of high-wasted skinny jeans that she cuffed to ankle length and a blue and white checked, short sleeve button up with a deep V. She tied the shirt to a length that just skimmed the top of the jeans and gathered her loose hair up in a blue snood. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted crimson. She added a bit of lipstick to match and carefully winged eyeliner that made her bright green eyes look more catlike than ever.
If Jax and Bobby meant her harm, she would use every weapon in her arsenal against them. Easier to put a bullet in the head of the scruffy mechanic with the steel toed boots than to shoot the pretty girl with the big eyes.
She heard the sound of approaching motorcycles and smoothed her hands over her thighs. Took a deep, fortifying breath and went to the door to greet them. They took their time about dismounting and getting rid of their helmets. She crossed her arms under her breasts and summoned up a smile for them as they approached.
"Hey, boys," she said. "Come on in. Leave your boots, guns, and cuts out here on the porch, please."
Jax and Bobby looked at one another.
"I think we'd rather keep 'em on, Ollie," Bobby said.
She lifted a brow. "Be that as it may, this is my home. I don't like my floors scuffed by heavy boots, and I don't really think you're going to need your guns. Do you?"
They didn't answer.
"And as for your cuts, well. I already know who you are. No need to show off for me." She turned her back on them and sauntered into the living room.
Jax shrugged at Bobby and dropped onto the bench to pull off his shoes. "Her place her rules," he muttered.
Bobby scowled but followed the younger man's lead. He wasn't entirely sure how intimidating they'd be in their sock feet, but whatever. Even if they didn't like what she had to say it wasn't like they were gonna shoot her right here.
Jax left his weapon on the table but he didn't remove his cut. They were here on club business. He wanted to make sure she didn't think this was a social call.
Her gaze was steady as they trooped into the living room to join her, and though her mouth quirked she didn't comment on their leathers. She didn't offer them a seat, either. She had no illusions about what sort of visit this was, even if she didn't have any idea what had prompted it.
The space was small, and it felt crowded by the big men and their glowers. She shifted restlessly and tried to relax.
"So, gentlemen. What brings you by?"
"We gotta talk, Ollie," Jax said.
"I gathered that much."
"It's about the deal you and Potter made," Bobby said. "The new one. Tell us again what happened. Everything he said."
Her brow creased. "I don't understand. We went over all this."
"I wanna go over it again," Jax said, his voice hard.
"Um. Yeah, okay." She brushed an imaginary strand of hair off her forehead and tried to think back. "We made the initial deal the day I called him with the info about the meet. That one had immunity from RICO for the club and, for me, immunity from TJ's murder. In exchange I was giving them what I knew about the guns meet and anything I had on Mick Doyle."
"Complete immunity from RICO?" Bobby said. "Even with Otto's statement?"
"I already told you I don't know anything about Otto. He stopped mentioning Otto the moment I said I'd talk."
"Okay," Jax said. "Go on."
She drew in a breath. "I didn't see him again for almost two days. Finally he came strolling into my cell acting all…I don't know. Quiet and weird. I figured he was upset because the raid went wrong, but to be honest I was surprised to see him breathing."
"He tell you what went wrong with the raid?" Bobby said.
"No," she said with a scowl. "I already told you that." She waved a hand. "He gave me back everything I'd given him about Doyle and offered a new deal: immunity from RICO for the club. Immunity from TJ for me. In exchange all he wanted was the information about the meet that I'd already given him. He had it backdated for the day they brought me in."
"He tell you why he was offering you an out?" Jax said.
"I told you I have no idea. He just said he thought I should be allowed to choose for myself. He said I shouldn't have to give up everything to keep my people safe." She shrugged a shoulder. "This guy was weird. You've got no idea. Ask Roosevelt sometime."
"But you signed the deal," Jax said. "The new one."
"Yes! Guys, what is this about? Do you need me to tell everyone, like at church or something? I can do that if you want."
"Roosevelt know about this new deal?" Jax said.
"I don't know," she said. "I would assume so. He wasn't in the room, but he was there as soon as Potter left and he didn't ask me a bunch of questions." She crossed her arms and her face hardened. "I've told you everything there is to tell. Now maybe you can answer my question."
Jax scrubbed both hands over his face and spun away. When he turned back his expression was wary and oddly haunted. "We've got a problem, Olivia. You're tellin' me this deal was legit?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it again. Her concerned gaze bounced back and forth between Jax and Bobby. "I have no reason to think otherwise."
They shared a look. Bobby's brows flicked upward and Jax shrugged a little.
"We got reason to believe that may not be the case," Bobby said at last.
She blinked. "I don't understand. What are you talking about? Who…?"
"The raid didn't go down because Romeo stopped it."
There was a pause.
"Romeo stopped it. The cartel guy just…stopped a DEA raid. How the fuck—"
"He's undercover CIA, Ollie," Bobby said.
She held out a hand. Disbelief contorted her face. "You're fucking with me right now."
"We fuck you not," Jax said. "Romeo and his partner Luis are workin' to take down the Galindo cartel from the inside. They told us we've gotta keep the drugs and guns flowing or they'll move on RICO."
"Otto's their in, I'm guessing."
"Yep," Bobby said. "We're workin' on that, but who knows if he'll recant or not."
Olivia shook her head, still uncomprehending. "But the deal—"
"The deal's bullshit, Ollie," Jax said. "We just came from a meet with Romeo and Luis and they set the fuckin' thing on fire. Said it wasn't worth the paper it's printed on."
The color drained from her face and freckles stood out like sparks against her parchment skin. "No. No. That can't be—Potter said. He said—"
"Fuck Lincoln Potter," Jax said. "It's all bullshit. Every single thing you've told us is a fucking lie. You a mole now, Ollie? That it? They send you back to spy on us? What'd they offer you? WITSEC, I guess. I hope they offered it for Juice, too, because—"
She surged forward, fury written in every line of her petite frame. "You wait just a goddamn minute, Jackson Teller. I'm no fucking rat! I thought that deal was legit!"
"Not a rat, Ollie? You sure were quick to sell out Mick Doyle."
Her eyes narrowed. "His son made my life a literal living hell for six years. I was so desperate to get away I cut my wrist with a fucking steak knife. And then, knowing what it would mean for me, I went back and put three bullets into the sadistic son of a bitch. Teddy's been hunting me like an animal ever since.
"Someone in your club pulls something like that, then we'll talk about rats. In the meantime I don't appreciate your accusations. I had WITSEC for Doyle. Why the fuck would I come back here just to screw you over?"
"People do crazy shit for love."
She snarled. "I fucking well don't."
Bobby stepped between them before they could come to blows. "Okay, Ollie, okay. You're saying you took the deal in good faith. So you think Potter was lying to you?"
She fell back and rubbed a hand across her forehead. "I don't know. I really don't. He seemed genuine. Weird, like I said, but sincere. You think the CIA has the pull to nullify something like that?"
"They might not've needed to," Bobby said. "Romeo said that since the raid didn't happen it made the deal moot. They also said Potter didn't even have the authorization to make the fuckin' thing."
"Oh God," she whispered. She pressed a hand to her mouth and seemed to fold in on herself. "Oh my fucking God."
"Whoa, hey!" Bobby reached for her, afraid she might pass out, but she fought off his hold and staggered backwards.
"Ollie, calm down," Jax said. "We believe you, okay? You're not a rat. I was just—"
"I don't give a fuck about that, Jackson!" She sucked in air and gripped the mantel hard enough to hurt. "Don't you get it? If the deal's off, I'm not safe from TJ's murder. I confessed to a cop and a US Attorney. I signed my name to a piece of paper that said I was immune from prosecution for it. That's as good as a fucking signed confession."
"Come on, Olivia," Bobby said. "Roosevelt's not gonna run you up on this."
"Fuck Roosevelt! My name is in the system now. He doesn't have to run me up on anything." She shook her head and dashed a tear off her cheek. "Without that deal the Atlanta PD can come straight to my door, Teddy Flanary hot on their heels." She laughed, wild and jagged. "Start digging, boys. I'm as good as dead."
It was a consequence neither Jax nor Bobby had thought of. They were concerned about RICO and the club, but as Olivia descended further into hysterics they realized she was right. Jax gave up trying to calm her down when she started to pack. He sighed and called his mother. If Gemma couldn't talk some sense into her then no one could. He sent Bobby back to the compound to brief Chibs on the new development and took up sentry duty in the doorway of Olivia's bedroom. He leaned against the jamb and watched her throw clothes in a bag like a tornado of panic.
"Ollie, come on. You're just gonna have to unpack again. You don't even have your car yet. Come back into the kitchen and have a cup of tea."
She ignored him. "Seven years, Jax. I've been on the run seven years, and somehow it all managed to go to hell in less than a month."
"You've still got that info on Doyle, right? Take that in. Offer it in exchange for immunity, like before. Don't worry about the club. Tara's workin' on Otto, and—"
"Oh no. I'm done trusting cops and lawyers and the motherfucking criminal justice system." She tossed a pair of shoes across the room and he ducked as they came perilously close to his head.
The doorbell rang and he couldn't remember ever having been more relieved in his life.
"Who—?"
"I called Gemma."
She rolled her eyes. "Goddammit, Jackson, I don't need to be managed. I just need to get the hell out of here." She pushed past him, and by the time she got to the living room Gemma was already inside.
"Don't even start," Olivia said. "There's nothing to talk about."
She kicked off her boots and crossed her arms. "Oh really? My son tells me you're plannin' a road trip."
She jerked her head toward the bedroom and Gemma followed her. Jax grimaced at his mother and she smiled and patted him on the arm. "Go on back to the clubhouse, baby. I got this."
He didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed his gun, shoved his feet into his shoes, and fled without a backwards glance.
"Unless you're here to help me pack," Olivia said as the sound of his engine faded, "I don't have time for an intervention."
Gemma picked up the shoes she'd thrown and tucked them into one of the suitcases. "I'll help you pack if that's what you really want."
Olivia glared at her, suspicious. "I have to go, Gem. I put my name down on paper. There's nothing to stop the cops from beating down my door right the fuck now. Or, you know, Teddy skipping the middleman and just coming for me himself."
Gemma shrugged and wandered to the vanity. She rifled through the contents of the half-packed toiletry kit and added a few things from the table: a tube of lipstick. Some mascara. The liquid eyeliner Olivia had applied less than an hour ago.
"You wanna go, go. It's your life." She sniffed at the contents of an amethyst-colored bottle and frowned. "You wear this?"
"No," Olivia said with a distracted shake of her head. "I mean, every once in a while. I'm not much for perfume."
"Smells good," Gemma said. She set the bottle down. "I'll go grab a box of baggies. You don't wanna pack your shampoo and stuff without some protection."
"I don't think I have any baggies."
"That's a shame. I guess you could buy new shampoo when you get wherever you're going." She pinned Olivia with a hard look. "Where are you going, Ollie?"
She looked away. Her fists tightened around the t-shirt she held. "I don't—I haven't—" Her brow creased. "I'm not sure yet."
"Hhmm." Gemma turned the vanity's chair around and sat. Crossed one leg over the other and picked imaginary lint off her black jeans. "You gonna take the time to tell Juice or just leave him a note? Or were you planning to just hop a bus and hope he'd get the hint?"
Olivia winced. "He'll understand."
"I'm sure he will. He doesn't want you dead any more than the rest of us do. Less, probably." She tapped a dark-tipped nail against her knee. "You've been good for that boy, Ollie. He's…sensitive. More sensitive than's good for him in this life."
"He's a grown man, Gemma. He can take care of himself." Discomfited, she turned away to shove the t-shirt in on top of the shoes Gemma had just packed. Her voice was rough when she spoke again. "Who else, Gem? Anybody else whose life would be irrevocably altered if I skipped town? Because honestly I don't think so. Opie's dead. Chibs has been lookin' at me sideways ever since I came back. Lyla's got the kids. Tara's got Jax. You've got Nero, and even if you didn't—" She broke off with a shrug.
"Don't presume to tell me how I feel, little girl," Gemma said, sharp as the crack of a whip. "You're family to me, Ollie. I know what you tried to do for the club. I know what you meant to Opie. I see how Juice looks at you. You think none of that matters? You think I can just shrug it off like it's nothing and let you walk outta here?"
She stood and closed the gap between them. "I get that you're scared, sweetheart. But you gotta remember that there are people in this town who love you. People who are willing to put themselves on the line for you. It's your choice, baby: you can stay here, with us, and let us protect you, or you can run out into that cold cruel world and try to protect yourself."
Olivia looked up at her with pale cheeks and a trembling chin. "If he finds me I don't know what he'll do, Gem," she whispered. "I'm not all that scared of dying. I'm scared of what's gonna come before the dying."
Her forehead creased and she laid a gentle hand on Olivia's arm. "He finds you, we protect you."
"It's not that simple. He's no amateur. He won't call first. He'll just show up and I could be gone before anyone even has a chance to miss me."
"Sounds like we need to make sure you don't spend much time alone."
Olivia made a face. "Great," she said.
Gemma sighed and tucked a wayward lock of hair behind Olivia's ear. "First thing we need to do is change your name, baby girl. Legally, I mean. He's lookin' for Audra Munro, right?"
"I guess. I've never put this name on anything. Even my car registration isn't technically…mine."
"Tomorrow we'll go talk to Nero. That same judge who married Jax and Tara might be able to help us out. They can seal the records so no one can access them."
"Yeah," she said with a slow nod. "Yeah, I guess…I guess that's a start." She brushed at her eyes and Gemma passed her a tissue.
"It ever bother you, bein' out here all on your own?" she said with a shrewd look.
"Um." She didn't really want to mention that she rarely spent her nights alone anymore. Instead she said, "It's okay. I like the quiet."
"Hhmm. Well, if you change your mind I've got room at my place. I hate the quiet."
"Thank you. I hope I won't have to take you up on that. If I'm staying in Charming I want to stay here."
Gemma assessed her for a long moment. Then, "Of course you could always go to Juice's."
Olivia frowned. "Gemma—"
She held up her hands. "I get it. Big secret." Her lips moved in a moue of droll amusement. "You two think you're actually foolin' anybody?"
"That's not the point," she said.
"Oh? Then what is?"
She gave a restless shrug and zipped the half-full suitcase closed. "It's nobody else's business."
"There are advantages to being an old lady, you know."
"No, Gem, there are advantages to being queen. Like you were. Like Tara is."
"You still don't get it do you? All this time you've spent around MCs and you're just castin' around in the dark."
"Then explain it to me, Gemma. No, really," she said at her incredulous expression. "I'm listening. Explain to me all the myriad perks and benefits of being an old lady."
She drew in a long breath. "You love that boy, sweetheart?"
Olivia gritted her teeth. "Again: none of your business."
"Right." She drew the word out and eyed her sidelong. "At this point it doesn't matter what I say. If you can't even admit that much out loud, then you don't deserve to be his old lady."
Her mouth fell open. She fumbled for a suitable reply, but for once she was at a complete loss for words. Gemma just watched her, a knowing gleam in her eyes and a smirk curving her mouth.
"That's Juice," she finally managed. For a second Gemma didn't know what she meant, but then she heard it too: a motorcycle. Close and getting closer.
"You can tell that just from the sound?"
Olivia's lips quirked. Apparently it was some sort of magic trick, because so far it hadn't failed to impress. "They're all different if you know what to listen for."
Gemma smoothed her top over her hips and started toward the door. "I'm gonna go then. You might want to stash these bags in the closet or he'll probably have some awkward questions."
"I was planning to tell him what happened," she said as she followed her out.
"Maybe you've got a little more sense than I was giving you credit for."
"Oh please," Olivia said with a roll of her eyes.
Gemma tugged her boots on and eyed Olivia. Held out her arms and gestured the younger woman closer. She hesitated, but after a moment she accepted the hug and even hugged back.
"You're a stubborn little bitch with a bad temper and a foul mouth," Gemma said. "Kinda reminds me of someone else I know."
She was glad Gemma couldn't see her face. She wasn't completely sure she liked the comparison: there were a lot of things to admire about Gemma Teller, but there were also quite a few things Olivia hoped she'd never become.
Gemma pulled away and squeezed her shoulders. "I'll pick you up tomorrow."
"Okay, Gem." She paused and her expression clouded. "Thank you. I mean it."
"It's what we do, baby girl. Don't forget that."
"Yeah," she said. "I'll try to keep it in mind."
The door behind them opened and Juice stopped short. "Oh," he said. "Gemma. Oh, yeah. I thought that was your car. I just—"
"Don't bother," Gemma said and rolled her eyes. "Get in here and take care of your girl, Juicy. You two got a lot to talk about." With that she slipped past him and out the door.
Juice stared after her and turned slowly toward Olivia. "What was that about?"
She drudged up a shaky smile. "Meet me in the kitchen and I'll tell you all about it. I need a drink and some ice cream. It's been one hell of a day."
Their relationship is literally the worst kept secret in the history of SAMCRO.