A/N - Family Ties fans - if you're on Twitter, let's see if we can get #ChibsforPrez trending!

"I don't think I should be here," Nina whispered as Chibs helped her off the bike. She was looking stronger with every day that passed, but this was the first time she had suggested going out on the Harley. Chibs had been thrilled at the prospect of taking her, she had held onto him tightly the whole way and he had loved the feel of her arms squeezing his waist. There was nothing, nothing better than that feeling.

"Yes you should," he said proudly, supporting her as they crossed the lot. Tig and Rat were working on a couple of the club bikes, it had been relatively quiet at Teller Morrow and each member was enjoying the peace and investing it in their own machines. Tig tossed his wrench at Rat as he got to his feet, seeing Nina approaching.

"Hey." He hovered for a second before swooping in to press a shy kiss on her cheek. Nina blushed and nodded, accepting the little embrace. Chibs put an arm around her possessively, shooing Tig back with a look. "When's the vote?"

"Five minutes," Rat called across, glancing at his watch. Tig nodded, wiping his oily hands off on a cloth and walking with Chibs towards the clubhouse.

It was a real stand to bring Nina in. Bobby and Jax were talking at the bar as they entered, and Chibs puffed his chest out proudly as he walked her to the couch. He clicked his fingers and a prospect shuttled over speedily with a pot of coffee and a mug. "Here you go, miss," he said with a smile. Tig gave him a slap across the back of the head and a kick in the shin.

"You don't look at her, you don't smile at her," he barked. Nina gave the prospect a sympathetic smile as he scarpered away.

"It's okay," she said. Tig shook his head.

"No, it's not. You're Chibs' old lady, he doesn't get to look at you. Nobody does."

It was as much an acknowledgement to himself as it was to anyone else. Chibs smiled a little, secure knowing that Tig was in his corner. "Thank you, brother." He could see Jax kicking the door to chapel as he entered in a huff, and the two exchanged looks. "You ready to shake things up?"

"Hell yeah."

Tig bounded towards the meeting with a wicked grin. Chibs laughed and stopped to kiss Nina before going in. "You need anything, the girls around the place'll help you out. They know who you are," he said with certainty. "I'll be back soon, then we can go for something to eat if you don't want to stick around."

Chibs was the last one to take his seat. He took his time, lighting a cigarette and leaning back in his seat as he waited for Jax to start the meeting. Jax scowled as he looked at him, he had spent an anxious night bitching to a worn-out Tara, irate that anyone had dared challenge his decisions. Chibs eyed him, his expression dark as he glared across the table. The tension was palpable, everybody could feel the atmosphere between the two.

"We gonna start this?" Clay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know why we're here." Tig spoke first, seeing that Jax was dragging his heels about starting proceedings. "A challenge is a challenge, it's gotta be dragged out."

"I didn't do shit wrong," Jax snapped. "I was taking care of the club, there was only one way to do it. That gash was trouble, I'm not putting my club at risk for some Mexi whore."

Chibs stabbed his finger towards him sharply. "You watch your fucking opinions, 'Prez', me and her are far more involved than just that."

Jax snorted and laughed, leaning on the table. "What? She yours now? Bet your wife loves that, huh?"

"Fiona wouldn't be here if it weren't for your meddling," Chibs growled. "She shouldn't be here, you bringing her here will have stirred up all manner of shite with the Irish, you think that was a good idea?" He rolled his eyes and looked at Clay for support. "You're using club influence in personal business, you don't know what you're doing. Messing around with the IRA isn't that simple."

Clay rubbed his jaw, it was a good point. "Galen's been asking why you needed her. He's arranging a couple of guys to keep an eye on here."

"That you'll know about," Tig smirked, shaking his head. "As if they'll put two or three guys down. Irish are fucking scum, they'll have a full contingent in Charming by the end of the week and we know it. As soon as the other clubs around Charming know our suppliers are keeping an eye on us, it'll raise all sorts of questions."

"Babysitters," Juice cringed. "It'll make us look weak."

"Enough chit chat," Jax grunted, irritated. "You want to challenge my position at this table?"

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Chibs nodded. "Aye, I do. You made the wrong call, Jackieboy. You hurt my girl, you're making too many bad decisions, fuelled by the wrong motivations. It's not for the good of the club, and that's what we're here for."

Jax crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "What's your suggestion then? You want this?" he asked, tapping his President's patch. Chibs shrugged.

"I'd to a better job than you, brother."

"Vote it," Bobby said instantly. "Prez's patch, take it away." He raised his hand. "Nay."

Clay nodded, pleased to hear it. "Yay." He shrugged as he looked at Jax and gave him a grin. "Sorry, brother." Tig raised his hand in swift agreement, Happy too.

"Yay."

Jax watched as, one by one, his brothers turned against him. Chibs smiled as he lifted his fingers from the table, holding his cigarette in the air. "Aye."

It didn't matter what the others voted, the opposition was too strong. Jax looked at Juice expectantly, at least hoping for a little more support but Juice shook his head, eager to side with whoever was going to take the position at the head of the table next. "I'm sorry," he said. "Yes."

Jax spat as he stood up and swung off his cut, tossing it down and hacking off the presidential badge hatefully. He tossed them into the middle of the table, leaving them on the reaper's face. He could see Clay eyeing them, eager to take them back.

"Go on then, VP," Jax muttered, looking at Bobby. "You're in control of proceedings."

"We need a new President then," Bobby murmured, reaching for them and waving the badge at the others. "Seat's open, who wants it?"

"Chibs should have them," Tig said, nodding towards his brother. "Smart man, a good brother, the club's interests at heart."

"Distracted by Taco Tuesdays," Jax chuckled, trying his best to hide his envy but knowing that he would never win out over the others. Chibs ignored him.

"I could do it right," he said, looking around. "Bobby and Hap in my team, I could start making things right."

"I'll second that." Clay raised his hand, he was sure Chibs would be easy to control, maybe he could start funnelling fast money back through SAMCRO. "Vote it. Yay."

Tig raised his hand in approval. "Yay."

Before anybody else could speak, the sound of gunshots screamed through the clubhouse. The wall of chapel was shattered by hundreds of fast, angry bullet holes, clearly fired by a machine gun. "Everybody down!" The club sprawled to the floor quickly, desperately covering each other, the politics of their issues suddenly seeming unimportant as they protected each other. There was a squeal of tires out front, and Happy was on his feet, grabbing a gun and heading straight for the front to try and catch sight of their attacker.

He took two sharp straight shots and the small black Escalade ground to a halt as it slammed into one of the pillars at the front of the lot, the fender bending and the hood crumpling from the impact. Happy had shot the driver dead in one go.

Rat ran across, dragging the body out of the car as the others jogged over to see who had attacked them. Happy pulled the ski mask up from the guy's head and spat on the floor as he saw him.

"Friend of yours?" he asked, kicking the body towards Jax. Jax frowned as he leaned over and saw a white guy sprawled out on the floor in front of him, his neck covered in four leaf clovers and a cross. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced up at Chibs. Irish blood on the lot, this was never going to go down well.