The mechanic, who had introduced himself as Hank, tossed her an apparently washed but still not-quite-clean jumpsuit.
"Better put these on. The locker room's that way."
Roxanne went and found a small locker room at the end of a narrow hallway. She changed, stowed her street clothes in one of the lockers, and in the dooway almost bumped into Tig, who must have been about to knock.
"Sorry," she muttered, rolling up the too long sleeves. The jumpsuit was obviously oversized but that had to be acceptable for now.
"Well, that's kinda fancy!" Tig eyed her briefly, amused, before continuing seriously. "Give me your car keys. As collateral," he added when Roxanne raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Don't you dare run off on me!"
"I wouldn't. Not in my dreams!" she assured and opened her locker once more, not quite managing to stifle a grin. It could be a little ambiguous, after all. Kind of.
"You know you're not getting out of here until you're done?" he asked as he accepted the key from her.
"Absolutely. And the sooner I get started, the sooner you'll be rid of me."

While Roxanne disappeared into the garage to attend to his Harley, Tig went to her pickup, unlocked it and unloaded what little luggage she had.
Partly out of suspicion partly out of curiosity, he seeked for any personal papers, and both driver's license and ID turned out to be almost perfect fakes.
The secret compartment with the stash of cash in the bottom of the backpack also led to only one conclusion:
This woman was clearly on the run!
But why? And above all: from what? From whom? Was she a perpetrator or a victim?
Tig shook his head, locked the pickup and made himself comfortable on one of the wooden benches in front of the clubhouse.
What business was it of his why or where this chick was headed? As soon as she got his Harley fixed, she'd be gone anyway.
But what if she didn't succeed and had to work off her debts some other way?
He already had some ideas about that. She wasn`t quite his kind of girl, but she wasn't ugly at all, on the contrary. She definitely had something!
Just as he was about to think about what he would do with her, Jax, Opie and Clay arrived in short intervals. They they had some more or less important club matters to deal with, which were none of Tigs business.
Half-Sack was busy cleaning up behind the clubhouse counter, Gemma was busy in the garage office, the cops weren't bugging and the rest of the guys were either at home or who knows where – so what else was Tig supposed to be doing but indulging in more or less - okay, definitely more - kinky daydreams?

"Everything okay?" Jax asked while approaching. Bevor Tig could answer, Roxanne, wiping her hands on a dirt-stained rag, appeared briefly in the garage doorway, glanced over at them curiously, and gave them a quick wave of greeting before disappearing back inside. Apparently she had heard the boys arrive.
"Who's that?" Opie pointed his head in the direction of the garage and Tig told them.
"All right," Clay agreed after a moment's thought, letting someone strange from the outside into the garage, for once. "She causes any problems, it's on you."
"She's not going anywhere, I confiscated her stuff." Tig briefly picked up the backpack from the floor. "But look at this." He handed Roxanne's driver's license and ID to Jax, who examined them expertly before passing both to Clay and Opie. "Do you guys notice anything?"
"Fakes," Clay replied immediately. "Excellent work. I'm sure our small-town cops are way too dumb to realize."
"We should ask her where she got them," Opie said with a grin. "Might come in handy."
"Did she say anything else?" asked Jax, and Tig shook his head.
"Other than her apparent fake name, where she's from, that she crashed my Harley and claims to be able to fix it, I don't know anything."
Clay nodded pensively. "Keep an eye on her! Or let keep an eye on her," he added before following his son and Opie into the clubhouse.
As if on cue, sparks were now flying in the garage and that was more than a good excuse to check on things after all.

Tig remained at a safe distance at the gate and watched as Roxanne, in appropriate protective gear, routinely handled the welding torch. No question, she knew exactly what she was doing.
Again, there was that familiar but not really uncomfortable feeling of being watched, and Roxanne raised her eyes before turning off the torch and pushing her welding goggles up into her forehead.
"Wanna help me?" she asked, and Tig laughed shortly.
"On the contrary!"
She shook her head with a smile before turning back to her work.
She didn't last much longer than a minute though, this guy was clearly starting to make her nervous now.
Once again she turned off the flame with a hiss and this time pushed her glasses down so they were hanging around her neck.
"Sorry, but I cannot work under scrutiny like this!"
"You should!" he countered jokingly. "Already gone. After all, we don't want you to destroy any more than you already have!"
Roxanne watched him go, her eyes narrowing with determination. "We'll see! Challenge accepted."

Hours later, she hadn't noticed at all how late it was and that the rest of her 'temporary colleagues' had already stowed their tools and cleaned up.
"Roxy, closing time!" Hank said, but she shook her head without interrupting her work. "I'm nowhere near done, and it's been made abundantly clear to me that I'm not getting out of here any sooner."
"They certainly haven't ...," Hank objected, but then broke off. When the Sons of Anarchy meant something, they meant it exactly the way they said it. They weren't kidding at all.
"Well, I'll let them know you're still there, then."
"Okay" Roxanne muttered absently, already engrossed in her work again.
Hank eyed the bike for a moment and swayed his head thoughtfully. It looked much better but if it was going to be ready by morning, Roxy would have to pull an all-nighter, willy-nilly.

Quite a while later, the prospect who had been driving the tow truck and introduced himself as Kip, although he seemed to be called 'Half-Sack' by everyone for whatever reason, appeared in the doorway.
"Everyone left, I was about to leave too," he said, looking around. "Are you sure you want to stay here? I'd have to lock you in then."
"No problem, go ahead," Roxanne replied. "As long as I can get to the bathroom unobstructed and have something to drink ..." She pointed vaguely in the direction of the water box that stood in a corner.
"Okay. Do you need anything else?"
"A pot or two of strong coffee would be nice," she grinned, and he had to laugh.
"All right, I'll get you those."

She decided to take another coffee break and poured herself the big mug with the Sons of Anarchy logo up to the brim.
It was going to be a long night, especially since there was still some painting to be done, but that to wait till the end anyway, when everything else was ready.
She had already made sure that everything was in stock in terms of materials, tools and spare parts - not that she couldn't continue at night because something more or less important was missing.
And when she'd be finished, then what? She'd really like to work here for a while.
Surely she would meet the boss tomorrow and then she could just ask.
Maybe Tig would put in a good word for her if he was satisfied with her work. And he would be, she had no doubt about that.
Tig. She wasn't sure what to think of him. He was quite handsome - in his martial, sinister way - and he had been remarkably quick to calm down in an affable, friendly way, even flirting with her a little, but she could well imagine that he also had a dangerous and brutal side to him.
So be careful, Roxy, she reminded herself. The past should be a lesson to you, after all, so stay away from bad boys as far as possible!
She put down the empty coffee cup and stood up determined not to ruminate further and get back to work.
There was indeed still a lot to do!

The next morning, Tig's Harley stood in the yard, gleaming and sparkling with chrome, and a visibly tired Roxanne was in the process of polishing the tank with a soft cloth when most of the club members drove up in unison. Apparently word had gotten out about the issue and everyone wanted to see the result.
"Wow!" Tig stepped closer, visibly impressed. "She looks just like new!"
Roxanne nodded and handed him the key. "I don't know how she runs, though. Take it for a test drive around the block, I didn't dare. I'd end up falling off!"
"Yeah, you look pretty tired," he commented, and she stifled a yawn.
"You bet I am."
Tig hit the starter, gave it a couple of throttles, then raised his thumb and Roxanne nodded in affirmation.
"Yeah, sounds good! Let's go for a drive."
As Tig pulled out of the yard, she sauntered over to his fellow bikers.
"Morning!" she greeted the group, and they all got acquainted first.
"That's quite an accomplishment," Half-Sack commented. "Y'all should have seen that bike yesterday. Was basically one big pile of junk."
"Well, well," Clay just muttered but he wanted to wait and see what Tig would say when he got back.
A moment later, he pulled back into the yard with a grin all over his face.
"I just don't get it!" He was simply thrilled. "Roxy, kudos to you!"
"Well, thank goodness," she muttered, and before she knew it, she found herself in a brief, intimate bear hug. She wasn't really aware of it at all, by now she had trouble even keeping her eyes open.
"No shit, the machine's running better than before!" He turned to Clay. "Didn't you mention the other day we needed another mechanic?"
"Yeah, we do indeed." Clay stroked his stubbly beard thoughtfully. "Suggestion: a six-month contract with a fourteen-day probationary period?"
"Okay," was all Roxanne could answer, and Tig grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a quick shake.
"Hey, don't fall asleep! You're part of the team now!"
"Do you have a place to stay yet?" Jax wanted to know and Roxanne shook her head.
"I was going to get a room first. I figure there's a hotel here or something?"
"Sure, but you're not gonna drive anywhere while you're so overtired."
"The apartment is available," Half-Sack said. "The bed's freshly made."
"Good idea," Clay said. "Let him show it to you and get some sleep first. My wife will get the contract ready for you and then we'll see."
"Great, thanks!" Roxanne raised her hand briefly before shuffling after the prospect.
Being happy about the fact that she had a job had to wait, at least for now.