Clipping right along in s6, but I'm extending some things a little for the sake of our sanities.

i am metal and i am steel
i don't mind 'cause i can't feel a thing
i'm a diamond ring
i'm not flesh and i'm not bone
i'm not sad and i'm not all alone
i'm a stone
Bob Schneider, "Metal and Steel"

Gemma had told her she could stay home the next day if she wanted to, but the house felt empty once Juice left. She wasn't as antsy or restless as she'd been yesterday (multiple orgasms were the ultimate stress buster), but she still didn't feel like sitting at home. The place was spotlessly clean from the time she'd spent recovering, and her garden was thriving. There was only so much make-work she could find to do, so finally she gave up and grabbed her keys.

She pulled in to her usual spot at the garage and took note of who was there: Juice, Chibs, Gemma, Jax…full house, really. She paused at the clubhouse door and glanced toward the picnic tables. Wade was there, along with Rat, and they both had beers. She'd also noticed that the bay doors on the shop were down. It was the middle of the afternoon.

"Doesn't anyone work around here?" she said, only half-kidding.

"Hey, Ollie," Rat said with a nervous nod. "We, uh, we were in the shop, but we didn't have any customers, so—"

"You closed up early?"

Wade shrugged a shoulder. "Chibs came in. Needed to talk to Juice about somethin'. Seemed like we should make ourselves scarce."

She went still. "That's strange…" She shook her head with a faux casual little laugh. "Oh, but you know what, I just remembered I need to see Gemma about something anyway. I should—the office—" She mumbled a bit more and spun away.

Olivia tried to act natural as she hurried across the parking lot. She didn't know why Chibs would need to speak to Juice alone in the garage, but she couldn't imagine it was anything good. All the really bad shit tended to go down in there because no one wanted to get the clubhouse dirty. Jax had said Juice was square, but as he had pointed out—that was with Jax, not necessarily everyone else.

She thought about just barging in, but instead she acted on a hunch and detoured to the office. Gemma was there, as she'd suspected, and she peered through the window at something happening in the shop. When she heard Olivia at the door she reached hastily to close the blinds, but Olivia rushed forward to stop her.

She froze with her hand outstretched and her mouth open. She stared through the window in disbelief. Chibs had just taken his off rings. Juice said something she couldn't make out, and Chibs threw an enormous punch that staggered Juice and nearly knocked him off his feet. He straightened and raised his chin and Chibs punched him again.

"What the fuck?!" Olivia cried. She changed course and made for the door, but Gemma caught her.

"Stop, Olivia. It's not your business," she said, sharply.

"The fuck it isn't! He's beating the shit out of him! Let me go, Gem. Let me go!"

She gripped her arms even tighter and shook her. "Ollie, listen to me. That's club business in there. I don't know what's going on, but I do know we have to let it happen."

"How can you say that?" She flinched as the sound of fist pounding flesh filtered to them. She spun away from the window, stomach roiling, and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. It took several long, panting breaths before she could speak again.

"I thought you cared about him. Now you're gonna let Chibs use him as a punching bag?"

"Juice knows it has to happen, sweetheart. Whatever's going on between them—you saw him in there. He stood up to take those punches."

"Of course he fucking did! After what happened with Clay he thinks that's all he's good for. He'd take a thousand punches if he thought it'd make things right."

"Right with Chibs? He didn't support Jax?"

Olivia made an impatient gesture. "Right with himself, Gem. He's been spiraling ever since it happened. He tries to hide it, and I thought the trip to Indian Hills would help. You know, get him out of town so he could clear his head."

Gemma frowned, and when she spoke again her tone was thoughtful. "He told me when he got back yesterday that he was tired."

"Yeah." Olivia's brows quirked in grim acknowledgment and she slumped against the desk. "That's a pretty good description."

"I thought you were taking care of him!" she said. "You're his old lady, Olivia. It's your job."

She gave a stubborn jerk of her head. "No, Gemma, I'm—"

"Oh no you don't." Gemma crowded close and thrust a finger in her face. "I don't want to hear that bullshit about you not being his old lady. I'm going to ask this one more time, and you better tell me the truth or you're out. Do you love that boy or not?"

"Out? What—"

"You think I can't do it? You think I won't? Lie to me again, little girl, and you'll be on the goddamn midnight train to Georgia."

Her eyes flashed with fury. "I don't respond well to threats."

"I don't respond well to bullshit."

She looked away and scraped a hand down her face. Her jaw was tight and her eyes hot, but finally she gave in. "Yes, Gemma. Of course I fucking love him. I could've gone to the cops with that dirt on my ex father-in-law at any time in the last eight years. They would've fallen all over themselves to give me WITSEC."

Gemma narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "What does Juice have to do with that? I thought you did it to keep the club safe from RICO."

"To keep Juice safe from RICO." It wasn't the full truth, but Gemma didn't need to know the details. She didn't need to know about Miles and the coke and the pressure Potter had put on Juice.

Gemma snorted. Leaned close again and lowered her voice. "Listen, sweetheart. I know it ain't easy, listenin' to what's going on in there. But it's club business. Not ours.

"Your job," she said and poked Olivia in the shoulder, "is to put him back together again when they rip him apart. You gotta know when to keep your mouth shut and when to step in. That's what an old lady does. It's why an MC is only as good as its queen. You get me?"

She lifted her hands in a helpless, hopeless gesture. "I'm just one person. I can't just wave a magic wand and cure him. He's got a lot of shit stirring around in his head."

"Yeah, well, it seems to me you do, too. Maybe between his shit and yours you two can figure somethin' out."

"I don't understand this life," she said. She flicked her fingers toward the garage. "How is that brotherly love? Love shouldn't fucking hurt, Gem. It shouldn't leave bruises and scars."

Gemma guessed Olivia knew a thing or two about that—but then so did she. "They're men, honey. Boys will be boys."

"Fuck that. People are people, and what's happening in there hurts no matter who you are." She pushed off the desk and started for the door again.

"Olivia—"

"No. I get it. I hear everything you're saying, and maybe on some level it's even true. But this has gone on long enough. An old lady's job is to know when to step in, right?" She tilted her head toward the garage. "It's time."

Gemma's mouth clamped into a thin line and she turned away. Olivia pushed the door open and stepped through.

Juice was on his knees with blood in his mouth and more streaming from a cut on his brow. Chibs had a handful of t-shirt and had pulled his arm back for another punch. The look on Juice's face stopped her for a moment: pleading; acceptance; a sort of terrible, resigned hope. He would let Chibs beat him to death if he thought it would make things better. He would take it until he passed out.

She swallowed hard. Neither of them had heard her come in, so she grabbed a wrench off the table and smacked it against the tool chest. It let out a ringing clang, almost like a boxing bell, and both men looked her way.

"Enough" was all she said, her voice quiet but with a core of steel that echoed. She was glad she sounded so steady. In reality her hands trembled and she wanted to vomit. Or run away. Or run away then vomit.

Chibs' expression was hard and thunderous, and it didn't soften when he saw her. "This's none of your concern, lass. Go along now."

"That's what I keep hearing. Club business. Brotherly love. Yeah." She surged forward. "Fuck that. And fuck you, too, Filip Telford. He's square. You fucking know that."

"I do. He's square with Jackie, and Jax says that means he's square with the club—but I gotta make it right for me."

"Then you've done that. Enough, Chibs. You've made your point."

He looked down at Juice for a long time. A series of unreadable thoughts passed over his face, until he finally settled on a sort of regret. She didn't think for a minute it was that he regretted the beating; more he regretted everything that had led to it.

"Aye," he said, slowly, "perhaps I have."

He sighed and let go of Juice's shirt. Juice swayed and would have gone down, but she caught him. He pressed his bloody face against her leg and wrapped an arm around her. Chibs watched them through narrow eyes.

"It had to be done, lass. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it had to be done." Chibs reached for him, to help him to his feet, but she held out a hand to stop him.

"I've got him."

"He needs to be patched up."

"No shit," she said with a snort.

"I did the damage. Let me help fix it."

She looked his way, and he flinched a little from the fury in her eyes. She was a tiny storm of it, but it was all directed at him. For Juice she had nothing but compassion and, Chibs saw, a great deal of love. Enough, maybe, to heal what had been going on in the boy's head since Miles.

"You've done enough, Chibs."

"Ollie—"

"No. The club tears him apart. His old lady puts him back together again." She cast a glance at the doorway, where Gemma stood watching. "Isn't that how it works?"

He fell back and a weary smile touched his mouth. "Aye, lass. You've got it now. Take him, then."

"Where're we going?" Juice said, his voice slurred by pain.

"Clubhouse, love. Come on." She took as much of his weight as she could, and together they staggered out of the garage.

Halfway across the lot he started to make a choking noise that alarmed her into stopping.

"What?! What's wrong?"

He lifted his head and she realized he'd been laughing. "Nothing. Just—I told you you'd change your mind someday. The night of the car bomb, remember?"

In spite of everything it made her laugh, a short huff of amusement accompanied by a roll of her eyes. "Oh, fuck you, Ortiz," she said as they got moving again.

"Not right now, babe. Head hurts."

"You meatball," she said, her voice laced with exasperated affection.

"Love you too, Liv. Love you too."

Later that night Olivia was coming out of the garage just as Chibs crossed the parking lot to his bike. She hailed him and he detoured her way.

"Thanks for cleaning up after yourself," she said.

He made one of those incomprehensible Scottish noises. "I figured it was safer if I did."

"Smart."

He lit a cigarette and offered it to her, but she shook her head. "Where's Juice?"

"Clubhouse. I'm pretty sure Chucky and Tig are getting him drunk."

"Need some help then?"

"No," she said, her voice cold. She let out a sigh and brushed a hand over her face. "Listen, Chibs—"

He interrupted her with a gesture. "If you're goin' to apologize for earlier, don't worry about it. You did what you thought was right."

Her look was incredulous. "Apologize? No, I wasn't going to apologize. I didn't do what I thought was right. I did what was right, full stop."

He looked away and took a long drag of his cigarette. She took a step closer and caught his eye. She was smiling, just a little, in a way he recognized.

"You know I love you, Chibs…right?"

"Aye, lass," he said, surprised. "I love you too, like me own daughter."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." She ran her tongue over her upper lip. Her teeth flashed in the light from the streetlamp. "If you ever raise a hand to him like that again, I'll cut it off. Okay?"

He lifted a brow. "You tryin' to scare me, lass?"

"No," she said and shook her head. "I'm just telling you the facts. You know how I like everyone to be on the same page."

"Aye," he said, drawing the syllable out. "I hear you."

She patted his arm and started toward her car, but his voice stopped her. "Do you know why I was willing to give him another chance to begin with?"

She turned back, face scrunched with curiosity. "I don't know. Because he's your brother and your friend and everyone fucks up sometimes?"

"Ollie. Selling out the club and killing a brother isn't just a fuck up. We have rules here. Important ones. They aren't just for show."

Her mouth quirked. "Maybe someone should remind Jax of that fact."

Chibs' brow furrowed and he flicked his cigarette away. "Aye, well, that's another matter."

"Mmm," she said, mildly. She crossed her arms and stepped closer. "You gonna tell me, or is this twenty questions?"

"Ach, well," he said with a grim smile, "I'd think it'd be fairly obvious." He paused and she stared at him. "It was because of you, lass. You were willing to stand up for him. To put yourself on the line for him. That said something."

"My track record for judging character isn't exactly exemplary," she said with a wry twist to her mouth.

"True. But, like I've said before, you're not a woman who makes the same mistake twice."

She looked away with a frown. "You two good now, Chibs? Are you done punishing him?"

"I'll not lie to you, Ollie girl: it's a hard thing for me to be good with."

"I get that. I really do. But what you've got to understand is that he's punishing himself more than anyone in the club ever could. Every time you pull him into the garage for a beat down, or give him that look you have, or just…treat him like he's not worth your time or effort, he punishes himself that much more. He thinks he deserves all of it. He thinks there's not torture devised by man painful enough for him."

She broke off and hauled in a breath. She hadn't meant to say so much. Juice wouldn't appreciate having his weakness exposed to anyone in the club, not even Chibs. At this point maybe especially not Chibs.

"I take it you disagree."

She made a scornful face and he held up his hands. A silence fell as he studied her: the tense posture, the anger-bright eyes, the pink cheeks. He let out a long sigh and fell back a step.

"It took a lot of"—he started to say balls, but stopped himself with a brief grin—"genital fortitude to do what you did."

"Is that why you stopped?"

"Part of it," he said. He drew in a breath. "You really think he's worth it, lass? I know Miles wasn't your brother, and I know you aren't a member of this club, but I also know you're a woman of deep empathy. So you can understand how we might feel about the situation."

"I've met very few people in this world who aren't worth at least one more shot." She hesitated. Waved a hand. "There are those people, and then there are a handful of others. They're genuinely good and genuinely kind and they mean well with everything they do—and somehow those people, when they fuck up, fuck up in the most extraordinary and creative ways possible.

"Juice is worth it, Chibs. He's worth it because he doesn't belong in this life, no matter that he thinks otherwise. He's worth it because he would do anything—literally anything—to make this right. He let you beat him bloody, and it was as much catharsis for him as it was for you."

"If he can't hack it he should get out," Chibs said, his voice rough with more than anger.

"You know it's more complicated than that," she said.

He shoved his hands into his cut and shrugged a shoulder. "Aye. Perhaps I do." He huffed out a chuckle. Shook his head. "You're a wee ornery thing, lass, and I wish Juicy boy the luck of you. I'd say you're more than the lad can handle, but maybe you're right and he'll surprise us yet."

"Well he sure as fuck won't if you beat him to death first," she shot back.

"All right, girl, all right. Juicy and me, we're square. You've got my word."

"Okay," she said. Some of the tension drained out of her, but her eyes remained wary. "That's all I was asking for."

"Aye, Ollie girl," he said with a laugh. "Nothin' but the moon."

"You know I'm a mechanic, not a babysitter—right?"

Apparently they'd found the school shooter's mother—Nero's cousin's girlfriend—and were worried she might talk to the cops. Nero didn't want her harmed, so the club had agreed to put her up at the cabin until they could find somewhere safe for her to go. In the meantime, according to Gemma, they needed a bit of help with her, and so Gemma had come to Olivia. Normally she'd be happy to say yes, but the shooting wasn't something she wanted to get close to. At all.

Gemma let out a frustrated sigh and propped her fists on her hips. "Of course I know that, Ollie. But someone's gotta stay with this girl, and she thinks the club's tryin' to kill her. I don't have time, and I'm not exactly comforting to dumb junkie bitches who let their kids shoot up a school. You have that whole"—she waved a hand—"nonjudgmental thing."

Olivia rubbed her forehead a moment, but finally she relented—as they had both known she would. "Yeah, okay. I'll get Vi-Lin to cover for me in the garage. He owes me one anyway."

"Call him from the road. They've already got her up at the cabin and she's a mess."

Gemma started toward her car and Olivia had no choice but to follow. She grabbed the first aid kit (just in case) and hurried to catch up. It was two hours to the cabin, but from the way Gemma peeled out of the parking lot, she seemed determined to make it in one. Olivia snapped her seatbelt on and wondered if it was too late in her life to find religion.

Gemma cast her a look. "You okay over there?"

"Oh, sure," she said with a nervous smile. "I just usually prefer to be the one driving. It's a control thing, I guess."

"Mmhhmm. And you're the type of person who likes to be in control."

"You make it sound like a bad thing."

"Not bad or good. Just a fact."

There was a pause while Olivia watched the scenery speed past the window. Then, "Ever since my mom died I've been uncomfortable anywhere but the driver's seat."

"Huh. That must be why you and Juice get along so well."

She'd been wondering when Gemma would confront her about Juice. Maybe confront was the wrong word, but something about Gemma made everything feel like a confrontation. It had been a few days since the incident in the garage, and so far the only real difference she'd noticed was that Tig made an effort to not look at her tits quite so much. That was nice, but otherwise Olivia had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. It seemed like this little jaunt to the cabin was just the chance Gemma had been waiting for.

"You got nothin' to say?" Gemma said.

"What should I say?" she said, tilting her head back toward Gemma. "I told you day one I wanted as little as possible to do with the MC and I meant it. I made it clear to Juice and everybody else that I had no interest in being anyone's old lady. No interest in being a crow eater. I just wanted to do my job and live my life and have a little peace."

Gemma snorted. "That hasn't been workin' for you for a long time now."

"Nope," Olivia said, her tone wistful.

"So what happened?"

She was quiet for so long that Gemma thought she might not answer at all, but finally she said, "I don't know. I wish I did. I just…he really looked like he could use a friend. Someone who wasn't tied up in all this club shit that has his head so scrambled. So I reached out."

That wasn't the entire truth, but she didn't want to get into their full history: that night at the bar, her hotel room after; and besides, Gemma had at least a vague idea of what had been going on for the last two-plus years. And it was, at least, mostly true for how they'd gotten together in the end.

"And, what? Fell on his dick? How do you go from reaching out to old lady?"

"Good fucking question. Again, I don't really know." She fiddled with the end of her braid. "How did it happen for you? I'm sure you didn't intend to fall for Clay when you were still married to John. So…how?"

Now it was Gemma's turn to sigh. "I don't know, sweetheart," she said after a while. "I guess sometimes shit just happens."

"The best laid plans, right?"

"Woman plans, God fucking well laughs." Gemma drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. Slanted a glance across the car. "It took a lot of balls to do what you did the other day."

"Yeah, that's what Chibs said. I wasn't really thinking with my balls." She shook her head. "I wasn't thinking at all, really. I was furious and scared and I just…" She trailed off with a helpless shrug.

"You did exactly what you should've done."

Olivia stared at her, wide-eyed. "You tried to stop me."

"Mostly to see what you'd do." She flicked her fingers. "You were right to step in, and like I told you, it's an old lady's job to put her man back together again. The club will rip them apart, Ollie. Especially Juice. He's too sensitive. Vulnerable. If you're gonna be his old lady then you gotta be prepared to do shit like that. Be ready to do what you have to do to keep him whole."

"I don't even know how to keep myself whole, Gemma."

"Yeah," Gemma said, low and grim. "I've figured that much out. Ice queen on the outside, barely held together with duct tape and safety pins inside."

"Ice queen?" she said, a little insulted. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"You keep everyone and everything at arm's length. You pretend like you don't; you say all the right things and you go through the motions. You've got them all fooled, if it makes you feel any better." She paused. "I'm not sayin' that's a bad thing. It's kept you alive this long."

"And now I've broken my own rule," she said with an ironic, rueful twist to her mouth.

"Oh shit," Gemma said. She turned to pin Olivia with an amazed stare for so long that Olivia made a frantic gesture toward the road. Eyes once again where they should be, Gemma shook her head. "You really are in love with him."

"I wouldn't have confronted Chibs like that if I weren't," Olivia said. "And, Gem, for fuck's sake. You asked me!"

She made a low noise. "Does he know?"

Her mouth quirked. "Yeah, he knows."

"I don't need to ask how he feels about you. Anyone with half a brain could tell that boy's been smitten with you practically since you first met."

"Then why was everyone so surprised to find out I'm his old lady?"

"I said half a brain. Name one guy in that club who fits that description."

She laughed. "Point."

Olivia drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The world outside the car was suddenly engrossing, and she studied it like she'd never seen California scrub before. Several miles disappeared beneath the SUV's tires before she spoke again. "I don't want to end up like Lyla. I mean, shit—don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to end up like you. I don't want to mourn a dead man. I don't want to be hard and bitter because of everything my life's taken from me."

"I hate to tell you this, baby girl, but you're already hard and bitter. No one lives through what you've been through and comes out the other side Polyanna."

"Is that what it is, then?" she said. "I hate using all that bullshit as an excuse for anything."

"It's not an excuse. It's life. I lost my son. John left me alone while he ran off after some Irish gash, and I had to deal with my Thomas's death on my own. Shit like that changes you. It makes you hard and it makes you bitter, but it also makes you strong. That's what they need us to be, sweetheart, because God knows they can't hack it on their own."

"Tara once told me she thinks we have it worst of all because we're the ones left to put the pieces back together once the dust settles. Do you think that's true?"

Gemma was quiet. Then, "Yeah, baby. I think Tara hit the nail on the head with that one."

It wasn't anything more than she'd expected. She nodded, her expression thoughtful, and Gemma reached for the radio. An old Jackson Browne tune came on, and Olivia was surprised when Gemma didn't change it.

"Where do you think Jax's name comes from?" she said when Olivia commented on it. She cut a brief, winking smile Olivia's way, and she couldn't help but laugh.

The rest of the trip passed in silence, but it was companionable rather than tense, and both women were glad they had cleared the air between them. While it lasted, anyway.

I hate how the latter seasons of this show have pitted its women against each other. Unfortunately unless I change...pretty much every single thing about s6, that's going to happen to a certain extent. Olivia's already chosen Tara's side, so that will naturally pit her against Gemma. I hate it, but I don't see much way around it. (which is not to say I don't agree with much of Tara's logic, bc I DO; Gemma was no fit guardian for the kiddos, esp not in the state she was in in 5-6. I just hate that it had to fall out the way it did...especially ultimately...but we'll get to that when we get to it.)