A nightmare doesn't always disappear when you wake up - a lesson that Tig thought that he'd learned years ago, but as the slumbered memory of his past begins to bleed into the lively reality of his future, he realizes that he is going to have to try harder to bury the truth.

General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.

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CHAPTER 23: SHIPMENT

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"Tiggy, get up." Tig chuckled at the sound of Sydney's whining, not opening his eyes or making any effort to move. "We have to get back." She urged, peering at the clock on the nightstand which displayed 11:03 A.M..

Tig smiled again as Sydney poked him in the side when he didn't move, pretending to be asleep. He had paid for late checkout during his hiatus only a few hours earlier, knowing that he would be tired and wanting to take his time after the emotionally trying night.

"You're a bad actor, now come on." She laughed before jabbing her fist into his side once again.

"Come on, baby." He groaned, turning onto his side where he swiftly pulled her across his hips. "You really in a hurry to get back to all that moving?" He asked with a lazy grin.

Sydney melted when she heard that raspy, sleepy voice in conjunction with his big, rough hands on her - the excitement dipping down between her legs where his morning erection rubbed against her where she was completely exposed, his boxers being the only barrier between them. She smiled and shook her head, her eyes squinting mock-scoldingly once she realized that his plan had been to duck out of the hard labour that everybody else would be subject to today as they took over the new warehouse.

"So I was just your scapegoat, all alon-" She was cut off by him rushing to his feet and taking off towards the bathroom with her in his arms, giggling until he set her down on the counter. She whimpered when he pulled away, the cold air hitting her body which was only clothed in the unbuttoned shirt of his. "What are ya doin'?" Her forehead creased as he walked over to the bathtub.

"I saw you eyein' this shit up last night." He groaned as he yanked on the faucet where a steady stream of hot water came crashing down into the giant tub.

Sydney smiled, her grin widening as he walked back over to her and smoothed his hands up her bare thighs, slipping them under the shirt to grip her waist as he descended his lips onto hers. She moaned into his mouth, the sensations being heightened by her sensitive body, the unsatisfied anticipation from the day before, and the relief of normalcy after the night's events that she could see he was actively dancing around, but if this was how he planned on distracting her, she didn't mind.

Tig went to pull away, but he was stopped as he caught a glimpse in the mirror behind Sydney's head as she sat perched on the counter with the thin fabric of his shirt draped over her body, gathering over her ass. He stared at the reflection as his hands slowly began kneading her skin, entranced by the firsthand sight.

Sydney looked up to him when he slowed his actions, quickly realizing what had stolen his attention as she looked over her shoulder, meeting his eyes with a smirk before she drew her legs up his calves, over his knees, and up his thighs - spreading them wide open where she rested her heels on the counter. Next she dropped her shoulders, letting his shirt fall from her small frame completely before running her hands down his chest, going lower and lower until she reached her destination - delicately sliding them inside of his boxers where she took his cock into a vise grip as he watched the entire scene unfold.

Tig finally managed to pry his glossy eyes away from the heavenly sight, looking down to see an equally divine one as Sydney sat naked, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes. A rush of arousal coursed through his veins, a shiver taking over his entire body before he lowered his mouth to hers, pushing his tongue inside as he placed a hand on the mirror behind her to steady himself while the other one went to her jaw - holding her exactly where he wanted her.

"You." His mouth began a hot trail up her jaw. "Dirty." He whispered into her ear. "Little." He mouthed against her neck before nipping at it. "Girl." He lined himself up with her opening and pushed all of the way inside of her - a breathless scream of surprise coming from her before a wicked expression of pleasure overtook her face. He chuckled, slowly beginning a steady rhythm of hard and deep thrusts as he watched himself fuck her.

"You love fucking my tight little pussy, you dirty old man." She rasped out between moans while her lips, teeth, and tongue grazed his neck whenever they could - feeding into the eroticism that only made him swell even bigger inside of her.

"More than anything, baby." He lowered his hand, pressing his thumb to her clit where he rubbed slow circles as he kept up his pace.

Sydney moaned, whimpered, and writhed as he finally gave her exactly what she had been asking for, in a way better than she ever could've imagined; the highly anticipated, yet completely unexpected scenario only made every thrust that much more intense, and before she knew it she was being hoisted back up into his arms as he slid her up and down his length.

"Mmm, Tiggy… I'm gonna come." She moaned, clutching onto him while her nails dug into his back and her teeth sank into his neck. She wanted his to be just as good as she knew hers was about to be.

His thrusting got faster as he began to lose his restraint once he felt the hot stinging in his skin, effectively bringing them both to the edge where he threw them off at the exact same time - tumbling down the proverbial hill of pleasure as they both panted through their releases. He leant up against the bathroom wall, his cock not leaving her while he continued to hold her in his arms as he came down from an orgasm good enough to leave him starstruck - the only thing prompting him to move being the nearly full bathtub. He sighed, setting her down into the water where he reached to shut off the taps before climbing in behind her.

"You sure you ain't a pornstar?" He chuckled as she settled comfortably between his legs.

"I don't know, baby... I think we could put Johnny and Kissa to shame." She looked back with a smirk.

He raised an eyebrow. "If you wanted to make some home movies, doll, all you had to do was ask..."

"I seem to remember asking last night, but you wanted to play hard to get." She teased, turning around to press a playful kiss against his lips before resuming her position in front of him.

"You already got me givin' it up daily like a damn whore." Tig pouted, the two sharing a laugh before he relaxed against the back of the tub with a sigh, pulling her back against his chest where they settled into the water in a comfortable silence. The post-sex afterglow had him feeling a little extra grateful that she was so understanding; somehow knowing exactly what he needed, and when.

;

Tara scowled as she looked around the compound with her hands on her hips, scanning the group of uniform-wearing men for the uniform-wearing man that she knew she would've been able to pick out already, had he been there...

She sighed, shaking her head as she dropped her hands down to her denim-covered sides, deciding to cut her losses while she was still technically ahead, and before Gemma could see her-

"What're you doin' here, Doc?" Her brown eyes fell closed as she heard the nerve-gratingly unmistakable voice, plastering a fake smile on her face as she turned on the heels of her black, pointy-toed boots.

"Just came to update Jax on his son." She was hardly able to get the words out through her gritted teeth.

"You mean my grandson?" Gemma raised a brow.

"Depends how you look at it." Tara shrugged, regaining her footing.

"Well." Gemma scoffed. "He ain't here. So is there anything that I should know?"

"No." Tara shook her head. "Just tell him to call me." A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips - a smirk that she knew would have her winking, had she been the kind of girl that Gemma had so ironically wanted her to be.

;

After a long bath, and late brunch at a diner overlooking the beach, Tig and Sydney were finally ready to start their journey back to Charming where the Sergeant hoped to beat the Monday rush hour that would surely pile up leading into Stockton. He felt his heartbeat beginning to quicken as he contemplated just what hitting rush hour could mean, the timing giving him a whole new outlook after last night - a whole new outlook that had him hesitating as she climbed onto the bike. He bit the inside of his cheek as he turned around, refusing to look at the confusion on her face that begged for an explanation as he willed himself to believe that God wasn't cruel enough to put him through the same thing twice.

Sydney didn't say anything when she noticed the curious tense of his muscles when she climbed on behind him, but the much more careful pace that he took on the way back began to paint a clearer picture of just what his nightmare had been about...

"Thank you again, Tiggy." She mumbled with her nose buried in his neck, inhaling his fading scent after the night away from home as she stood in her driveway with her arms wrapped around him.

"I'm glad I could make you happy, angel." He rubbed her back. "I'm gonna head back to the clubhouse and give my bike a wash. You could wear that bikini and come help me, gimme my effort's worth." He winked.

She grinned, shaking her head as she headed inside, shedding her two-day-old ensemble as soon as she locked the door. She carried her dirty clothes to the laundry room where she waited for the gentle hum of the running water to signify the start of the cycle before skipping up the stairs to begin getting ready for the meeting with McKeevy.

About an hour later, Sydney pulled onto the compound in her Challenger as the day began to wind down. She stepped out onto the pavement, smiling as her Louboutins lifted her off of the ground in the way that she was used to after days of being condemned to ground-level soles.

"Damn, babe…" Tig gawked at her from his crouched position in the garage as he waxed his bike. "That's not exactly what I had in mind, but..." He admired her tight black jeans and cropped graphic tank top.

"I'll wear white next time and we can have a wet t-shirt contest." She winked.

"You sure you wanna put yourself up for ridicule like that? You know I'll win." He got to his feet with a playful grin on his face.

"I'd be happy to lose if it meant I got to see you like that..." She walked her fingers up his chest before he swiped them with a bashful smile.

"Jesus Christ." Bobby winced from the other side of the garage. "You just had a twenty-four hour fuck fest and you're still all over eachother?"

"Fuck fest'll do that to ya." Sydney replied simply, trailing her free hand down Tig's chest, over his crotch, and eventually over to the hand dangling at his side where she grabbed onto his fingers - pulling him out the door. The couple greeted everybody around the compound on their way to the clubhouse as they all attempted to carry on business as usual under the hot July sun before McKeevy's arrival.

"Sydney, can I have a minute?" Sydney was surprised by the first thing that she heard after crossing the threshold, turning to see Clay who was nodding towards the chapel. She nodded, letting go of Tig's hand and following the older man through the oak doors.

"What's up?" She asked nervously as soon as they were out of earshot.

"It's, uh… Been brought to my attention that the way I handled the Oswald shit yesterday wasn't exactly fair." He widened his eyes as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Sydney's brows furrowed for a second before it clicked. That was what Tig had really been talking to him about yesterday - and that was why he'd tripped when she'd asked about it. "Oh." She began rapidly shaking her head. "No, it's fine. Clay, I didn't ask him to-."

"Doesn't matter." He silenced the rapid fire apologies that were coming out of her mouth as she stood before him. "Point is, I was wrong - let my shit with Oswald get in the way. We never woulda had that blackmail if it wasn't for you."

"I appreciate it, but really, I knew it meant something to you to do this…" She greatly respected that her President was allowing his pride to take a hit over her feelings, but she didn't want him thinking that her feelings were going require his pride to take a hit... "Plus… You would've known if I was mad." She added playfully.

"That's true." Clay chuckled. "I figured it wasn't coming from you." He nodded thoughtfully as he sat back in his chair. "Tig... He cares about you."

"Yeah... I'm seeing that." She chortled with a light roll of her eyes.

"You think of somethin' that I can do to make up for it, and you let me know." He told her with narrowed eyes that left no room for negotiation.

"Well… There is one thing…" She looked to him expectantly as she swayed back and forth like a little girl begging to open her Christmas presents early.

"Get outta here!" He exclaimed in mock-frustration as he shooed her away.

"Fine." She laughed with her hands up in surrender. "I'll let you off the hook if you pay those speeding tickets from the charity run."

"Deal." He chuckled.

Tig was hiding around the corner at the end of the hallway, hoping to remain out of Sydney's warpath that would surely begin the second that Clay outed him. But he was surprised to see her exit the chapel laughing instead, hoping that maybe that meant that he was off the hook... Besides, he was only trying to get her what she deserved.

He walked out to the bar with his newfound confidence in the situation, sliding up beside Sydney who was taking a tequila shot as he placed his arm around her waist, grazing the warm skin of her abdomen that was exposed in the tiny top that she wore. "What'd Clay wan-" She cut him off as she whipped around to face him.

"Your room. Now." She demanded with a hardened expression.

"What?" He scowled in shock.

"Unless of course, you want me to chew you out in front of everyone?" He didn't move, too surprised over just how poorly he'd managed to judge the situation. "Go!" She urged in frustration, her voice rising far above the low, menacing tone that she'd previously been speaking in as she pushed him towards the hallway.

He turned and started towards his dorm, walking so stiff that he looked like a toy soldier and Sydney had to hold back a laugh. She trailed behind him, quickly slamming the door shut before practically jumping into his arms and smashing her lips into his.

Tig nearly toppled over, the shock over her anger still present as it now mixed with the surprise of her action. But even though he was confused, his body was not - responding instantly by pushing his tongue into her mouth and walking her over to the dresser.

She pulled away, looking up at him and shaking her head. "Don't think that I'm not mad." She told him before pulling him back down to her lips.

He chuckled before dipping down to her neck almost teasingly, gently nipping and tugging at the skin. "I can deal with a little anger." He whispered below her ear before pressing his lips to her cheek.

She looked up at him in awe for a few seconds before pressing her lips back to his in yet another fiery kiss that was full of passion. "Thank you." She whispered sincerely as she pulled away.

"You deserve it." He nodded, kissing her on the forehead this time before pulling her down off of the dresser.

Once her stilettos were firmly planted back on the ground and she was satisfied with the encounter, Sydney turned to leave the room - heading back out to wait with the rest of the guys for McKeevy to arrive.

"Hey, hey, hey." He pulled her back by her hand. "Where d'you think you're goin', princess?" Her lips curled up when she saw the unmistakable devilish look in his eye. "I got makin' up to do." He picked her up and tossed her onto the bed while she squealed with laughter.

After several rounds of 'making up', Tig had been thoroughly forgiven, and Sydney was beaming from the blissful apology.

"You two lovebirds finally ready to go?" Bobby hollered across the lot when they finally emerged from the clubhouse, sauntering over to the group that was waiting on them yet again.

"I don't know... I could go for another round." Sydney joked, leaning against Tig's bike as she lit a cigarette in preparation for the ride to the new warehouse that she could only hope had been properly set up before McKeevy's delivery of AKs, handing the lighter off to Jax.

"Think the prospect's deep enough?" Clay nodded from his seated position on his bike as he peered into the garage where Half-Sack was sweeping.

"I trust him." The VP nodded, taking the lighter from Sydney's outstretched hand and sparking up his own cigarette before passing it back with a nod.

"Hey prospect!" Clay hollered.

"Huh?" Half-Sack's head snapped up.

"Come on over here, learn a thing." He dropped the broom and began jogging over at the request of his President.

"Hurry up, hurry up!" Tig hassled.

"Take Syd with you in the van and follow us." Clay tossed him the keys and nodded towards the corner of the lot where the grey vehicle was parked.

Half-Sack looked to Sydney first for confirmation, which earned him a silent warning from Clay who was already going out of his way to allow the fresh prospect to prove his loyalty.

"Never thought I'd be upset about not ridin' sidesaddle like a pussy." Sydney scoffed as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"Me either." Half-Sack chuckled. "You feel better about shit?" He decided to take the risk of asking the invasive question once they got on the road, knowing that at the very least it would let his friend know that he cared.

"I don't know about shit with him…" She replied honestly, unable to shake what had happened the night before. "Shit with myself though? I think so."

"You seem better…" He nodded. "You're talkin' about it at least." He playfully nudged her shoulder.

"Yup." She rolled her eyes with a smile.

After a relatively short commute, Tig, Chibs, Clay, Bobby, Juice, and Jax all pulled their bikes off of the highway and onto the dirt access road of the property owned by Elliot Oswald.

"You really think it's gay if I shave my shit?" Half-Sack looked to Sydney.

"It's pretty gay." She looked back expectantly, firm on her stance on the matter that he had presented her with during the drive.

"Are you sure? Juice swears that-"

"If you wanna continue getting laid." Sydney cut him off as he brought the van to a stop. "I would not be listening to a single thing that Juice says… Especially when it comes to not being gay." The two laughed before hopping out of the vehicle and joining the others where they watched the cargo truck chug up the road.

"Don't screw this up, Sack." Tig scolded as Juice playfully roughhoused with the prospect while Clay approached the door of the truck to greet Michael McKeevy with a hug.

The short, balding man eyed Sydney with a scowl as he made his way to the back of the truck where he began offloading the Dungloe Ireland labelled oil drums containing the lethal weapons to the bikers, but she met it with a smirk before strutting into the warehouse with her stilettos kicking up dust behind her.

"What's that about?" The Irishman nodded with a raised brow.

"Eh." Clay shrugged. "New thing we're tryin' out." He chuckled as he made his way into the warehouse where everyone gathered around the table in the middle of the otherwise bare space as Juice and Half-Sack got to work assembling the AKs.

"How much of a hit did you take on the new supply house?" McKeevy winced as he asked the dreadful question, looking around the facility that he knew had to have cost them a pretty penny.

"Anything is more than we planned for, but let's just say our damages were mitigated." Clay gave Sydney an appreciative glance.

"Mayans torching your warehouse... What does that do to your business?" The foreigner scowled.

"We're handlin' it." Clay shrugged again - he wasn't about to share the ins and outs of his business worries to his only supplier "Niners ain't as cooperative with the delays as we'd like, but we're making do."

"Can't you just assemble at your clubhouse?" McKeevy didn't understand why they wouldn't want to keep their guns in a place that other gangs weren't bold enough to hit.

"We learned our lesson the hard way..." Clay nodded thoughtfully as he briefly contemplated the seven years that he and some of the older members - including JT - had served for making that mistake. "We don't cross our money streams. Clubhouse is strictly a legit bar and automotive business."

"So if black stops buying from you, that means that you go however long without buying from us? SAMCRO's a huge piece of our income..." McKeevy's beaded black eyes narrowed worriedly.

"Gotta make the adjustment, alright... I mean, it's part of business." Clay tried to reason with the paranoia that he had been trying to avoid.

"This isn't just a business for us, brother... True IRA - we're not merchants, we're soldiers. The guns that we sell fuel the cause, without it we lose ground."

"We support the cause, McKeevy. Shit like this just happens." Chibs intervened while Sydney and Tig shared a worried glance from opposite sides of the foldout table.

"That's the problem." McKeevy nodded. "A few weeks would cripple us."

"The hell you sayin'?" Clay kept the sigh out of his voice as the younger man wore his patience thinner and thinner.

"I'm sayin' that if you can't front us the cash from now on, we'll have to find another buyer." He shrugged.

Sydney blinked as she realized just why the Irish had a reputation for being unreasonable - McKeevy was flying off the handle over a completely hypothetical situation.

"I've been buying guns from you for over a decade, Michael... When you split with Adams, I stayed with you because of our friendship." Clay nodded furiously.

"You stayed with me because the other cowards sold out!" McKeevy yelled as the conversation escalated. "We're the only outlaws left."

"We'll get you your money." Sydney announced as she slid her gold pendant along the chain around her neck, staring at McKeevy reassuringly as she hoped to end the argument before it got to a point of no return.

"What?" Clay sneered, glaring at the little blonde with his eyes deep in the hollows of his face as she vastly overstepped her boundaries.

"Now, don't take this personal, Clay." McKeevy looked between the two. "Your warehouse burning down is a casualty of commerce, but losing our guns is a casualty of war."

Clay visibly relented as he realized that there was no other option - even if he had no idea how he was going to get his hands on that kind of cash. "Alright." He nodded.

Jax bit his lip, looking down at the concrete below his sneakers as he allowed his shaggy hair to fall in front of his face in an attempt to shield the laugh that he was concealing as the little girl forced his outlaw President into submission.

"Now, let's see what we're payin' for." Clay changed the subject, turning his attention to the pile of AK's strewn about the table in front of them where the mood lightened instantly at the mention of weapons - everyone reaching for a piece of hardware.

"Aye, lassy, careful now. This ain't a toy." McKeevy placed his hand on the barrel of the gun that Sydney had grabbed, lowering it towards the ground. Everybody froze, sharing looks of anticipation as their new favorite game of 'how will she handle this' began.

Sydney raised an eyebrow and scoffed, ripping her gun away from the dark haired man and flipping it around in her hand. She cocked it once it was safely back in her grasp before shooting straight between Clay and McKeevy's heads - hitting dead centre in the middle of the 'O' in the 'Oswald Lumber' logo that was scrawled on the back wall.

Everyone looked back at her in awe, especially the skeptical outsider. "You're right, definitely not a toy." She rasped with a smirk, tossing the gun back onto the table and swinging her hips under the eyes of the gawking men as the red soles of her stilettos carried her towards the exit.

"Seems like something ye should keep trying." McKeevy nodded to Clay with the shock still on his face as the men all shared a laugh.

Sydney watched the smoke ascend into the night sky from the cigarette that was dangling between her fingers as she leant against the van, waiting for everybody after her dramatic exit - preparing herself for the reaction that Clay had undoubtedly held back. The heavy steel doors finally slid open as the bikers retreated to their rides while Clay bade McKeevy farewell before affixing his eyes to Sydney.

"What the hell was that!" He sneered as he approached the cocky little tart, throwing his hand in the air. "You better have $200k lying around, that I don't know about."

Sydney prayed in that moment as Clay yelled at her yet again in the short amount of time that she'd been working with SAMCRO, that her strategy of showing them what they were doing wrong and proving herself useful by correcting their mistakes, would not backfire.

"Did you really see another way out of that?" She sneered back, stepping closer to the tall man. "You spooked McKeevy into thinking our deal's at risk." Her voice raised. "You think he won't sell to somebody more secure? Think again."

"It doesn't mean you go making decisions on your own!" He matched her velocity.

"A decision you would've had to make, anyways!" She fired back. "I made it quick and painless before you pushed McKeevy even further!"

Clay sighed dramatically as he realized that his usual intimidation factor was serving him no sturdier legs to stand on during his already shaky argument. "You!" He pointed to Chibs. "Go with him - courtesy escort. I wanna know who he's meetin' with, and when he'll be back." The Scotsman nodded, taking off after the truck as Clay turned to leave with an angry scowl in Sydney's direction - but it was an angry scowl that she'd become accustomed to by now.

Tig hadn't said a thing during the encounter with McKeevy or Clay, too stunned by Sydney's boldness to form any proper words. He had learned firsthand with JT, that Clay was not a guy to cross, and the only thing keeping his worry for Sydney's safety at bay was the fact that her efforts benefitted the ruthless President - but he would be lying if he said that the warning glance he received as he fired up his Dyna didn't make his stomach sink.

"You keep busting his balls like that? You're gonna be sittin' on the sidelines with me, Princess." Jax warned playfully as he stuck by Sydney's side while the others dispersed, tucking a cigarette behind his ear.

"Need a lap warmer?" She smirked, watching the bashful smile pinken his cheeks. "I'd rather bust his balls than ride his dick." She scoffed, making him laugh. "My loyalty is with the club. Not with the President, not with the Vice President." She remarked with a pointed glance before rounding the van and climbing into the passenger seat.

Jax stood for a few seconds with his lips pursed and his head nodding as he pondered her words. As much as he wanted to let himself believe that Sydney was just a mouthy little groupie who knew how to handle a gun and stroke an ego, he couldn't help but respect the effort that she put in to prove that she was truly devoted to the good of the club, not just herself.

"You scare the shit outta me, ya know that?" Half-Sack shook his head as Sydney buckled her seatbelt next to him.

"I scare the shit out of alotta people, Kip. You should be used to it by now." She chortled.

"I don't know, I just-" He began stumbling over his words.

Sydney looked at her friend with a knowing smile spreading across her face before the two of them busted out laughing, heading back towards the skating rink where they were both on thin ice.

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Song for this chapter

Main Attraction - Jeremy Renner