AN: Reviews are appreciated! I don't own SOA, just walking through the world.
Tig paced as he waited to see if Opie would pick up. He had no idea where the man had gone for his walk-about but he couldn't get Finley's words out of his had. He had to do what he could to make it right.
"Yeah?" Opie answered.
"Op, it's Tig. Do you got a minute?" Tig's voice was tight.
"What is it?" The other man sounded tired. God knows what I did to contribute to that.
Tig decided to just go for it. "Stahl was making you look like you were the rat- money transfers and bugs on your stuff. I should have believed you but I thought the club was in danger. It was supposed to be you in the truck man…not Donna. I'm so sorry."
It took a long time for Opie to respond. Tig wondered if he had hung up.
"FUCK YOU! My kids don't have a mother because of you. Did Clay ok this? The whole club?" The raged sadness in Opie's voice cut Tig to pieces.
"I'm sorry Opie, if I could take it back I would. Clay ok'd it and it was just the two of us."
"You and me are due in the ring. I don't want the rest of the club knowing, besides my pops…how could you not believe me?" Tig gripped the phone hard, knowing he should have waited until the witness was released, not like that wasn't it's own clusterfuck.
"I'll be there. I should have waited for that witness name to be released. I should have questioned you about the bugs, but I was trying to protect the club," Tig put all his sincerity into his voice.
"Yeah you should have, I need sleep." Opie hung up before Tig could say anything else. It was a start. The whole conversation exhausted Tig as well, and he collapsed onto his bed wishing Finley was there.
The next day, he was with Clay. Tig could see the president in a different light, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. Right now they were going over low level drug dealers to pin Donna's murder on. Clay didn't seem to mind who, but Tig did. He wanted someone who was white and had enough on his record to justify what they were doing. After some argument, Tig won out.
Tig wished he could call Finley but she was in L.A. on a short job. He often wondered what exactly it was she recovered, but she kept that part of the job from him. She said for liability reasons, and Tig could understand that. He was the same way in talking about club business with her, especially since she wasn't inked.
"Tig, phone call!" Half-sack hollered from the bar. Tig went over, they rarely got personal calls on the bar line.
"Yeah?"
"Delivery is ready for tomorrow, is the drop site the same?" And Irish voice asked.
"It is," Tig breathed out.
"See you then," the Irish man sad hanging up.
Tig chucked as he carefully shot at Half-Sack the next day. He took whatever humor release he could get. When Cameron Hayes said the'd be muling hand guns, he wasn't happy about it. The club didn't have a choice though, and Tig made a note to ask Finley about transport.
Speaking of the woman, he would be glad to see her tonight. She had agreed to come to Bobby's homecoming. But first he would have to see Opie, have church and go after Donna's alleged killer.
When Opie came in the church doors with Jax, Tig had to work to keep his face straight. Guilt churned in him and he wouldn't blame Opie for spilling everything, damn the consequences. That didn't happen and the meeting ran normal.
Tig watched the dealer restock his underlings. Opie was tense, and Jax was on edge.
"Ok, now," Tig said. The three followed the man until they came to an empty parking lot.
"Hey man, I need a fix!" Tig yelled turning the dealer around.
"Then look elsewhere," the man didn't even turn around but picked up his pace.
Opie and Jax chased him down. Tig circled around to cut off any escape. Watching Opie kill the other man, Tig knew he was picturing him.
"You two head back, I got this," Jax said. Opie murmured something to Jax, making him look over at Tig.
"Fuck Tig, this dies here- no arguments, no vote. It's about protecting Ope and the kids. Hear me?" Jax's voice held all the authority his VP patch gave him.
"I hear ya boss," Tig said, Opie echoing the SAA.
"Good. See you at the party," Jax said waving them off.
"I'm still kicking your ass," Opie warned.
"Wouldn't expect any less, it's the least I deserve," Tig shrugged.
Tig was nursing his second beer when his phone went off with a text. Be there in twenty, sorry I'm running late.
Tig smiled as he replied: I get it babe, can't wait to see you.
Tig went out to the parking lot to wait. He didn't like the idea of some other asshole seeing his girl first. And damn did he need one of her hugs. The lot was louder and more rowdier with the anticipation of Bobby getting back. A red Camaro caught his ear and eye, Finley was here.
He strode to her car intent on opening her door. Pulling it open he grinned, flares of attraction shooting through him, when she stepped out. This time she was in black daisy dukes, gladiator sandals and a white ribbed tank top. Her hair was in a French braid. She's gonna kill me.
"Baby you're delicious looking," Tig leered leaning in to kiss her cheek. Finley smiled at him.
"I thought I would put some effort in," Finley joked. Tig tugged her braid.
"Fin, you'd make a trash bag look good," Tig complimented.
"You're the first person to call me 'Fin' and I don't hate it."
"I like having my own nickname for you, I love when you call me Alex," Tig said his spirits lifting.
The couple found a corner, Tig waving over a crow eater for two tequila shots and a beer. Tig purposely sat Finley on his lap. She tensed then relaxed into him, accepting the next physical step in their relationship. Once they had their shots, Tig dived into what happened with Opie. Finley listened, giving praise and encouragement when needed.
"It's good you worked out what you could. I'll be interested in seeing this fight," Finley said watching Tig's fingers trace patterns on her leg.
"Yeah, I'm gonna let him get it out," Tig finished off his beer. "Let's go outside, Bobby should be here soon."
Tig couldn't stop his grin when Finley interlaced their fingers. Getting outside, he spotted Opie. The men nodded at each other, seeing a fight happening in the ring. Tig pulled Finley in front of him, pulling her tight against him. For as much as he had a reputation with women, it was this that he craved most.
The feds pulled up, giving the horn a few honks. Tig gritted his teeth at Agent Stahl. Finley noticed and her gaze turned cold. Clay said something to Stahl as Bobby hugged Tig.
"I'm inside and you're pulling an elf woman?" He joked kissing Finley's hand.
"Tolkien elves are as deadly as they are beautiful," Finley replied making Tig snort.
"You can't subtly or not subtly threaten every brother you meet babe," Tig warned, though his eyes gave him away.
"You like it," Finley nudged him. Tig kissed her head.
"Hush, Bobby the debauchery awaits inside," Tig waved behind him. Bobby made his way inside, receiving hugs and pats.
Finley tensed in his arms. He looked down then up to the Benz entering the lot. He quickly went from Alex to Tig. Finley moved so she was beside him, releasing contact. Tig could see the change in her too. He went down to stand by Clay, noticing the defensive stance Finley took.
A older white man, looking every bit both arrogant and rich stepped out. The muscled man behind him was clearly his body guard.
"A couple of Nords," he whispered to Clay.
"Shop's closed, come back tomorrow," Clay said. The man moved forward, his three piece suit looking out of place.
"Oh I'm not here for repairs, I here you're a camacho fan," the man set a box of cigars down at Clay's feet; a subtle insult.
"What do you want?" Tig asked, continuing to eye both the new comers and Finley.
"To deliver a message. Stop selling guns to color, it's in your best interest," The man looked like he believed his words actually mattered. The Sons just laughed at him.
"I don't care who you are or how fancy your shit is. No one comes on my lot and threatens SAMCRO. Now take your lackeys, get in your clown car and drive back to Nazi town," Clay kept his anger to a roar. The man in the suit handed a card to Tig before they got in their car.
Tig and Happy followed the car out. Looking at the card on the way back he didn't recognize the name or affiliation. Finley met him, a serious look on her face.
"Alex, that was Ethan Zobelle. He's part of a white hate group that fronts as businessmen called LOAN. His enforcer is name AJ Weston, and he isn't above using sexual violence to get people to do what Zobelle wants. If they're here, it's trouble for you, and not the kind you are used to going against," Finley said, still looking serious.
"Thanks babe, how do you know this?" Tig led them to the ring, he knew his fight with Opie had to happen tonight.
"Luke, my partner. He was doing a security job and ran across them," Finley answered taking Tig's kutte.
"Am I gonna meet Luke?" Tig asked hanging over his rings as well.
"Of course you are Alex. We might not have defined this but you are important to me. Luke is just twice as busy as me since he does security as well."
Tig was satisfied with her answer, and it was good to know she thought he was important. A hand on his cheek made him look back down to his girl.
"This is about making things right, I'm proud of you," Finley kissed his cheek. That was all the encouragement Tig needed as he stepped into the ring.
Tig and Opie went at it for nearly twenty minutes. Tig had a split cheek and his ribs were likely bruised. Toward the end of the fight, Tig could see the change in Opie. When they hugged at the end, Tig knew they were on their way to being ok. Hopping out of the ring, Finley came to his side.
"I'm guessing your ribs hurt like hell. Super glue should take care of the cheek. Get some ice water for your hands," Finley checked him out as she helped him get his cut on.
"I have a med kit in my dorm bathroom. We can get some ice water from the kitchen," Tig said wrapping his arm around her. He didn't care that it hurt, he needed her close. He was done for the day emotionally.
"Ok babe, I'll get you cleaned up and then we sleep. Can I borrow a shirt?"
"Rather you didn't," Tig smirked receiving a look from the blonde.
"Alexander, you are incorrigible," Finley smiled.
Once they got Tig cleaned up, his hands soaking, Finley did her nightly routine. Like before, they cuddled in bed. Finley was careful with how she moved but Tig didn't care. This girl was proving herself a good old lady. Tig was able to quickly fall asleep with her hair tickling his face.