Sydney and Jax set aside their differences once again after an ATF investigation places Clay under a microscope, forcing the reaper royals to work together to rally both the club, their allies, and their enemies, before its too late.

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 31: A, T, AND F

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Tig stood in the middle of the desert with Trammel, squinting in the afternoon sun as he listened to the sob story from the rattled Sheriff, feeling the tingling in his legs moving down to his feet where he dug the toe of his boot into the dirt as he waited for the rambling man to stop.

"Sorry, man." He shook his head casually. He didn't care about the man's feelings, he cared about how this effected their deal.

Trammel felt his heart stop when the curly-haired man showed not an ounce of sympathy, but his blood quickly began pumping again once he remembered who he was talking to, and why. "Those were your AKs, weren't they?" He chuckled humourlessly.

"Yeah." Tig nodded, placing his hands on his hips as he chewed the inside of his lip.

"God damn it." The shorter man shook his head with a sigh.

"Feds picked up Clay, traced a call from one of the shooters' cellphones back to TM."

"Jesus!" Trammel exclaimed as somehow, the situation only continued to get worse.

"Need you to find out who, and what they have. Find out of this is real."

"Oh." Trammel scoffed. "This is real, alright."

"We can't let 'em find these guys, man..." Tig pursed his lips as he shook his head.

"Your guns kill a friend of mine, and now you're tasking me to protect the shooters?" He blinked incredulously.

"It's not about protecting them." Tig cut him off. "It's about getting to 'em first - get Clay clear of this shit."

Trammel exhaled through his nostrils as he crossed his short arms over his chest. "I was supposed to help you get your guns to the ghetto, run a little interference. I didn't sign on for piles of rubble, or dead sheriffs."

"I know-"

"This is over." He shook his head as he felt his throat beginning to lock up again, turning back towards his squad car.

"It's too late for over, man." Tig shook his head. "You know all about us, and we know all about you."

;

"Can't get a warrant." Hale stalked up to Stahl, giving his newest form of hope the regretful update where she stood, pacing in the middle of the station as her co-agents made themselves comfortable around the small building.

"What? Why the hell not?" She scowled. With three dead innocents, a connection between a convicted gunrunner, and illegal AK-47s, a warrant should've been a piece of cake.

"Raided their clubhouse on Wednesday after a similar connection - turned up nothing." He sighed.

"No guns?"

"None that we can arrest them for." He felt his jaw clenching bitterly. "DA won't issue another warrant this soon with no hard evidence - says cellphone isn't enough."

"Shit." She resumed her pacing. "Who initiated the first warrant?" If a cellphone and prior convictions for the exact crime in question weren't enough for a second warrant, then she knew that more push to the first one than just a small town PD request, was the answer.

"I think you're looking for me..." She turned to see a grey-haired man standing from a desk a few feet away. "Agent Kohn, ATF Chicago." The man introduced himself, flashing her his badge.

"I guess Chicago doesn't have a dress code, huh?" She looked him up and down where he stood before her in a grey t-shirt, and blue jeans. "What brings you here?"

"I can't discuss the specifics of my investigati-"

"Oh give me a break, Sparky." She scoffed. "Any investigation is going down the drain thanks to that bullshit raid. Who's your superior? Gainsley?" She spoke with a raised brow and a sharp tone, letting him know that she could shut down his rogue efforts in a second, because that was exactly what they were - rogue efforts.

"I can share these..." Kohn gave the skinny woman a smug smirk as he retreated back to the desk that Hale had set him up at, retrieving the folder that he'd been saving for this exact moment. "I followed the Sons of Anarchy to Nevada less than a week ago when a war broke out with a rival MC." The foreigner produced a photo of three Mayans chasing Jax and Bobby.

"This is Piney Winston - S.O.A.'s founding elder." Hale chimed in, opening his own folder to Piney's mugshot - backing up Kohn just as they had planned. "He did multiple terms in Nam, and guess what two guys were in his platoon?" He smirked as he flipped the page. "Nate Meineke, and Frank Cison."

"Cison…" A smirk formed on Stahl's face. "The father of the guy that was freed from the prison transport?"

Hale nodded, stealing a glance at Kohn who shared the same smug expression as their plan panned out just as they'd hoped.

"Mother's little helpers." Stahl took a deep, cleansing breath as she slapped both of the men on their asses - leaving them shocked as she strutted away into her temporary office where she began processing the new information that would help her build a proper case.

;

"Nothin's comin' up under Meineke other than discount mufflers." Juice yelled across the bar to Jax from the couch where he sat, furiously moving his fingers over the keyboard of his laptop as he searched for anything that they could use as a cover.

"We could say we were just looking for parts? Calling around to known contacts, club associates." Sydney suggested from where she sat on the pool table, cross-legged with her shoes off, holding a burner to her ear. "Sorry, Rol." She returned to her phone call with the SAMNOV President; ensuring that everything was in place for the charity ride.

Jax nodded haphazardly, wondering if it would be enough - but his wonders were cut short when he turned at the sounds of a voice that he shouldn't have heard.

"What's goin' on?" Piney groaned from the doorway.

"I thought I told you to go underground." Jax scowled with his arms out expectantly, looking to Opie who just shook his head.

Piney put his hand up to silence the blonde man. "Nate reached out. They're in some survivalist bunker outside of Woodridge Forest."

"Okay, great." He nodded curtly. "You gotta set up a meet."

"And then what happens?" The old man narrowed his eyes.

"They killed three people and they're a straight line back to this club. What the hell do you think happens?" Sydney snapped the phone shut, hopping off of the table.

Piney ground his teeth, turning to face the know-it-all of a girl when he was stopped by his VP. "She's right." He turned his angry expression towards Jax instead, frustrated that the lemon-headed children seemed to think that they could tell him what to do.

"Met with Trammel." Tig's voice cut the tension as he came barreling through the door. "He ain't gonna be easy to keep on our side, man... One of those dead cops was his best friend - fifteen years. He wants to walk away."

"What did you tell him?" Jax asked worriedly.

"The truth - that this only works with the two of us together, or one of us dead." Jax nodded, feeling a rare sliver of gratitude for members like Tig who he could trust to threaten a good man like Trammel, when he couldn't stomach it himself. "I told him we'd be waitin' on his call for more info."

"Vegas and Indian Hills are all up to speed on how tomorrow's going down." Sydney added.

"Okay." Jax nodded again, thankful that the usually combative couple was backing him while he was in charge.

"Not waitin' anymore." Bobby announced as he too entered the clubhouse. "They don't got shit, Clay will be out tonight."

"Okay." Jax breathed a sigh of relief. Now he was able to focus his efforts elsewhere; like finding out what the fuck Tara had to do with Kohn.

;

Hale opened the door to his office to see Agent Stahl sitting in his chair waiting for him with her feet up, feeling his body tense on instinct before he quickly relaxed, realizing that the sight of a superior was not always meant to be a bad thing - especially when, for once, it was a superior on his side.

"Kohn said that the Sons of Anarchy were seen escorting this truck a few months ago." She nodded to the pictures of a cargo truck parked at what looked like the Oakland Port, splayed across the desk. "I'm guessing this is how they're getting their guns into the country." She pointed to the oil drums lined up in the bed.

"Yeah, we've suspected that they've been using them as a transport method for some time now." Hale nodded.

"Dungloe Ireland…" She raised her brows. True IRA territory - outlaw Irish." She mused. "This could be huge, Deputy." She smirked before swinging her feet down. "If the Sons are running guns through a known terrorist organization, well-" She cocked her head as she stood from the brown leather chair. "That puts your little motorcycle club on at least half of a dozen federal watchlists." She circled him like a vulture, stopping behind him as she leant into his ear. "My nipples are unbelievably hard right now." She whispered, turning towards the door. "I'm gonna pull in homeland security, treasury - we might just shut this Harley mafia down for good." She gathered her belongings before heading off. "I'll be in touch."

"Did you brief Agent Kohn on this?" He hoped that she hadn't, this was a piece of news that he wanted to deliver.

"Oh, you know I called Chicago and, uh- Kohn's supervisor seems to think he's on vacation in Oregon." Stahl raised a brow. She hadn't been surprised when she'd found out what she already knew - that the skinny man had something personal against the MC, and she wasn't about to let his broken heart and bruised ego jeopardize the biggest bust of her career. "Let me know if he stirs anything up with SAMCRO, and keep this inside your khakis." She winked.

Hale's brow creased as a scowl made its way to his quickly contorting face. Why would he lie?

"Oh!" Stahl called over her shoulder. "Clay Morrow's free to go." She smirked as she left the station house for the day.

;

The club finally reconvened at the table after the long day once Clay had been cut loose, cheering as their President walked through the chapel doors with a weak smile on his face.

"Charity ride is all set up for tomorrow." Jax reported, still hoping that somehow, he would still be able to sway the club in the other direction...

"Good." Clay replied, sharing a sincere nod of respect with his VP after he'd successfully held the fort down during the trying situation - the way that it should be.

"Called Nate, wants to make a deal on the rest of those AKs..." Piney raised a brow.

"Knows nobody'll touch them, ten grand for all thirty-six." Opie scoffed, stamping out his cigarette.

"Shit..." Bobby groaned. "Those guns are worth ten times that."

"Dead men are pure profit." Sydney reminded them. They would be getting their guns back anyways - anything that they could get from the peckerwoods would bring them closer to their goal. "And it sounds like we're gonna need it to keep Trammel happy..." She raised a brow.

"That's a good point." Jax nodded. "Set it up for Tuesday when we're back from Indian Hills."

"What the hell are we gonna do about McKeevy?" Chibs intervened with his main point of concern that, for some reason, didn't seem to be anybody else's.

"We still got Jury." Clay reminded them that their insurance policy hadn't run out quite yet. If they could convince Jury to buy more than they had originally budgeted for, they would square their debt with the Irish - to hell with Laroy. "We get him to front the cash."

Jax's anger over the situation returned when he heard Clay's bogus suggestion. "I don't know, man..." He'd slowly begun to get over Sydney's little side deal at his uncle's expense, but using him as a bank was pushing it. "They don't earn like we do…" He shook his head skeptically. "There's no way they're gonna take more than one of Laroy's orders. And, I mean… Is it even worth it? With the feds, the Mayan heat..."

"ATF's got shit, it's all smoke." Clay didn't have the energy to get frustrated with Jax's constant pushback. "And Jury can put money in our pockets until we can convince Laroy that our guns are safe."

"Let me talk to Laroy." Sydney's voice carried across the table. It was the perfect solution - if she offered her services, Clay would see it as her doing the club a solid, and Jax would see it as her trying to mitigate the damages that she'd caused with Jury.

"No." Tig answered before anyone else could, the impulse working too quick for him to even think about what he was doing before it came out.

"You care about the future of this club? You'll let me talk to Laroy." She retorted with a nod, trying not to take his response too personally after their talk this morning.

"Tig's right." Clay shook his head. Even if he didn't appreciate his Sergeant's recent protective flare up, he couldn't deny that he was right this time. "Laroy ain't a man of reason."

"Alright, fine." She relented, shrugging off her surprise when Clay took his side - a day in ATF custody really had taken a toll... "Then what if we do let him hear that we're selling at a discount?" She suggested. "It's not ideal, but it's like you said - that money is money that we need right now."

"Laroy'll let up on whatever discount he's expecting in a few weeks once his supply starts wearin' thin, he just wants to show us how big his dick is." Clay shrugged it off.

Sydney nodded slowly, staring into the eyes of the reaper carved into the table. What would a reaper do?

"But, uh- It's late, and I'm tired, and you'll handle it..." Clay sighed as he pushed himself up from the table.

If Sydney hadn't turned her attention back to her President when he spoke, she would've missed the glance that he tossed her as he stood from his chair - his cryptic words spreading a smile across her face.

"I'm gonna head home, crash before we gotta ride out tomorrow." He nodded to his crew.

"We'll talk in the daylight?" Jax raised a brow.

"In the daylight..." He confirmed with another sigh.

;

"Rollie said they'll be meeting you guys just over the border, they know the drill about the charity front and they're ready in case the Mayans step out." Sydney walked with Tig by her side, spouting off the meaningless details about the run to distract him from the fact that she was heading to her car, hoping that it would stop him from extending the invitation for her to stay the night...

The words blurred together in his mind once he realized what she was doing, her blissful voice fading out as the angry, hateful one inside of his own head took over. He shook it away, refusing to listen after the day that they'd had. He didn't expect her to magically act like everything was okay again, and he wasn't going to set himself up for disappointment by hoping that it would be.

When they reached her car she finally turned to face him, looking up at him with those innocent eyes where the moonlight bounced off of them. "I'll see you tomorrow before you go..." Her words came out almost in a pout, the short farewell laced with an unspoken apology.

"Okay, baby." He whispered, nodding as he rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and inhaling her sweet scent while he still could.

Sydney pulled away, unlocking her car and getting herself seated before things escalated - because she knew that they would. She avoided his eyes as she started the engine, not able to make herself look at the pain that she was causing him, but it was a pain that she knew that she herself would be plagued with the second that he set foot in that Nevada clubhouse.

Tig looked down to his boots as his heart stung, the voice in the back of his mind crashing through the walls that he'd put up; telling him that everything that she'd said and done earlier was just to delay the inevitable, because she'd felt sorry for him - because she needed to stay on his good side if she wanted his vote one day.

"I love you." He nodded sadly as he leaned down to rest his arm across the frame of her open window.

"I love you too." She looked up at him with a blinding sincerity behind the discomfort in her eyes, pushing herself up in her seat to kiss him where she felt more confident that the embrace would remain under control now that there was a barrier between them.

All that Tig felt when their lips met, was confusion; pure, undiluted confusion. Her actions said that she wanted nothing to do with him, but her kiss said something very different. He hoped that the short time apart would provide them with some clarity - that taking the step away would help them be able to come back together without any reservations or clouded views that they'd conjured up in the past week. The rough patch hadn't had any impact on his love for her - but if there was one thing that he'd learned over the years about his love; it was that it would never be enough to keep anyone around.

;

Sydney laid in bed awake in the late hours of the night, tipping the glass of ice water over her stomach - her body jolting when the cold liquid made contact with her bare skin. She shivered, shaking her head and focusing her blurry eyes on the TV in front of her, having gone to extreme measures to keep herself alert for one more night so that it would be impossible for her to be plagued with worry while Tig was in Nevada.

Once it was finally late enough in the morning to justify getting a start on her day, she raced out of bed and into the shower, which she kept cold - blasting music through every corner of her house to keep her awake. When she got out, she didn't bother towelling off - letting the water drip down her body which instantly broke out in goosebumps under the air conditioning that she'd cranked up all of the way before pulling on a tight grey top and some black boyshorts which immediately became damp, effectively keeping her from getting too comfortable.

On her way downstairs for some much needed caffeine, she was startled as she approached the landing to realize that there was a loud knocking coming from the front door that was being drowned out by her loud music, and due to the ferocity that the slab of oak was rattling on the hinges before her - it seemed that there had been a loud knocking at the door for quite some time. She reached for the gun that she kept on the table next to the door, holding it against her thigh as she peered through the peephole while her heart pounded in her chest - the over-exhaustion sending her into a twitchy state of anxiety rather than the cool, calm, and collected that she usually was. But she scowled when she recognized the sandy brown buzzcut and big ears, pulling the door open to see the non-threatening deputy.

"Come to arrest me?" She greeted, not bothering to establish eye contact as she slid her thumb across the screen of her phone, turning on her heels where she set the gun back down and walked to the kitchen, wordlessly.

Hale was stunned to see that Sydney was the one who opened the door. He had done so much digging into her past that her present had completely slipped under his radar - he had no idea that the brown house with the blaring bass on Maple Street had belonged to her. He opened his mouth to speak now that the obnoxious music had finally come to a stop, but his thought was cut short when she left the door open and walked away - his eyes trailing down her body and landing on that perfect ass that she hadn't bothered to cover up. He blinked a few times as the porno-perfect fantasy began playing out right before his wide blue eyes, quickly shaking the thought away as he stepped inside cautiously.

"I hope that's registered…" He raised a brow as he looked down at the pitch-black Glock 17 sitting next to the crystal bowl that held her keys - the lethal item somehow looking perfectly in place next to the decorative trinket.

"If it wasn't, I'm sure you would know." She deadpanned, not bothering to look behind her as she led him into the kitchen.

Hale nodded formally, saying nothing in response to her smug remark that he wished was true. "Noise complaint." He stated his reasoning for the early morning visit as he looked around her house in awe, his gaze lingering on the beautiful paintings that she had displayed down the hallway.

"Sorry, forgot about the time." Her apology was bland as she brewed up a fresh pot of coffee.

Hale blinked as his train of thought was halted, his appreciative eyes taking up residence on a new piece of art; the wet top that clung to her body where the cool air hardened her nipples.

"You look tired." He choked out, landing on the first thing that he could use to divert his attention - which happened to be the heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes.

"Maybe that's because it's 6:00 A.M.." She mused with mock-enthusiasm.

"You're up early." He nodded.

"Observant." She scoffed, unimpressed. If that was all that it took to be a cop…

Hale felt his face cracking into a smile, tilting his head as he stood with his hands on his hips. "Any reason why?" He inquired with curious eyes that were full of intrigue for the little blonde standing before him.

"Same as you, Deputy." She looked to him expectantly. "Duty calls." She mused with a snip in her tone as she tipped him her empty coffee mug.

"Not a morning person, I take it."

"Not particularly." She smiled sarcastically as she poured her coffee.

Hale decided that after minimal conversation and maximum temptation, it was time for him to leave - only realizing after he'd begun driving away from her house that he hadn't even remembered to give her a warning about the noise.

Sydney chuckled as she watched the chump of a cop drive away, smirking as she pressed play on her phone which immediately sent music blaring back through her speakers, heading upstairs to get ready for the day - she was wide awake now.

;

Hale had made it back to the station after his first call of the day - and it was a close call, at that. He blinked the images of Sydney's tight little body out of the backs of his glossy blue eyes as he hovered over the desk of one of his newer officers, attempting to refocus himself on reviewing the paperwork that she'd drawn up. But as soon as he thought he'd managed to file the memories from the morning into the back of his mind - saving them for later - his head snapped up as he overheard a call to dispatch from across the room, for a noise complaint at the same house that he'd been to a few hours ago; Sydney's. He looked towards the door to see Gutierrez eyeing him disapprovingly as he pulled on his jacket, heading out to handle the call since his deputy was clearly incapable.

"Mark!" Hale called after the dark-haired man. "Eglee needs help with that report." He nodded back to the short blonde that he had been assisting, storming past the older man before he could protest.

"David!" Gutierrez followed him out where he managed to stop him in the parking lot, cornering him against his Bronco. "You turning on us like old man Wayne? Huh?" He scowled painfully. Hale had been the only glimmer of hope for a clean system that the twenty-year veteran had seen since he'd joined the force, it killed him to watch the younger man crumbling under the weight of corruption the same way that he'd watched the rest of his colleagues do.

"I'm not turning on anybody!" Hale's defense immediately went up against the man that just months ago, he had seen as his strongest ally.

"Biker pussy says otherwise, mano..."

Hale took a step closer, staring down the older man as his jaw clenched with anger - anger that his crooked superior had forced him to push his true motives into a secrecy that had his coworkers thinking that he was a sellout, too. "I am just doing my job." He sneered.

"Looks like she's doing her job, too - a lot better than you're doing yours." He nodded, rolling his tongue under his lip as he slowly backed away.

Hale didn't let up on his hardened expression as he pulled his eyes away and got into his vehicle, confident that he would be able to prove his colleague wrong before it was too late. But that confidence didn't stop him from cursing the little club slut for being so damn charming and having him looking like a fool in the eyes of his inferiors, the entire way to her house.

Sydney snickered when she peered out her bedroom window to see Hale pulling up outside of her house for the second time. She finished lacing her black heels up her calves, spritzed her perfume, and grabbed her bag before heading downstairs to wait for his arrival at her front door.

Hale's brow creased when he started up the walkway and the music stopped, cautiously continuing his path to the door which opened the second that he was about to begin knocking.

"Back for me so soon?" She opened the door theatrically, greeting him with a wide grin this time - once again making it almost impossible for him to focus on the task at hand as he looked her over in the skin-tight outfit that she wore; a leopard print bodysuit that displayed major sideboob, tiny black denim shorts, and black high heels that made her almost as tall as he was, which, for some reason, only turned him on even more.

"I'm doing my job." He clenched his jaw as he weakly recited the even weaker excuse.

"Mmm." She nodded half-heartedly as she slid on her sunglasses. "Not well, it seems." She stepped over the threshold, standing so close to him that her ass rubbed up against his crotch as she turned to lock the door.

Hale stood completely still with his breath lodged in his throat, almost going blue in the face before she finally moved to a safer distance while he gasped for air as discreetly as possible.

"I would be able to do my job if you wouldn't make it so hard for me." He sneered angrily at her blatant disrespect as she walked away from him without a care in the world for the fact that she was being reprimanded by a police officer, following her to the front of her garage.

"It ain't the only thing that I make hard for you, apparently." Her eyes trailed down to his crotch with a smirk. "Guess those khakis are good for somethin', after all."

Hale exhaled sharply, crossing his legs as the flirty wink could still be seen behind the dark sunglasses covering her eyes, staying silent as he carefully picked his brain for something that he could say that wouldn't immediately fall victim to her quick wit.

"I just wanted to see you again, Davy..." She pouted as she punched in the garage code. "Plus, the way I see it? You wouldn't have a job if it weren't for people like me." She grinned.

"A second visit would usually result in a fine." He threatened, following her into the small space where she got into her car.

"But a first warning wouldn't, and I don't seem to recall you giving me one of those." She looked up at him with those innocent eyes that shone pure evil. "Have a good day, Deputy." She let her car roll down the driveway, stopping when she reached the end. "Hey! Close the door on your way out, would ya?" She hollered out the window with a cackle as the man stood, mindblown in the middle of her garage.

Once Sydney reached the crowded TM lot as everybody geared up to ride out to Nevada, she parked her car in the back corner to ensure a proper entrance - getting out and strutting over to Tig where she received a barrage of wolf whistles. A grin slid across her face, after the morning encounter with the lawman - somebody who didn't fluster her to no end - her spirits had successfully been given the lift that they so desperately needed before what she knew was going to take place in the desert that night.

Tig looked up to see what all the commotion was about when he saw Sydney prancing towards him, her tits bouncing and her hips swinging. If her mission was to remind him what he would be missing while he was gone - it was working. He ripped off his sunglasses where he really took in the sight of her, memorizing every inch of her body - an image that he intended on using to help him sleep peacefully during his night away.

Jax watched Sydney approach the group, participating in the wolf whistling in an attempt to show her some good faith. He was still unhappy with the situation, but she had been a big help to him yesterday, and most importantly, with their conflicting schedules, he hadn't yet gotten the chance to talk to Tara about Kohn - and if things continued to stand in their way, he may need some good karma in the bank to get the intel from the vault, herself...

"Goddamn..." Tig groaned from where he sat on his bike as Sydney finally strutted up to him. "This all for me?" He smirked, looking her up and down as he reached out, trailing his hands up her thighs, over her ass, and up her sides before turning her around to give himself a full view.

"It sure is." She cooed as she bent over for him.

Tig's eyes widened when the tiny shorts rode up, revealing even more of her ass than they already did - grabbing her elbow and spinning her back around to face him where he hauled her into his arms before anyone else could take part in the peep show.

"Can't have you forgettin' about me while you're gone." She quipped once she stopped giggling, but the lightness didn't quite reach her eyes as the dread quickly found its way back into her mind.

"I think some pics would do the trick..." He hummed, raising a brow suggestively.

Sydney smiled as she winded her arms around his neck and leaned into his ear. "I think I could arrange something..." She rasped before hugging him tightly, her burst of hope quickly deteriorating as she searched for a lost reassurance in the closeness of his embrace.

"I'll be waitin'." Tig husked, nodding with a lazy smirk as he hugged her back. "Think I could get away with a quickie?" He whispered.

Sydney chuckled, almost hoping that he could, because maybe that would be enough to hold him off for the night. "Yeah..." She grimaced as she peered over his shoulder to see Clay watching them, unamused. "I don't think you'll escape with your balls attached." She pulled away. "And I'm gonna need those when you get back." She added with a raised brow and a playful smirk.

"Damn." He pursed his lips and shook his head in mock-defeat before swiftly yanking her back into his arms, grinning once again when she laughed so purely.

Sydney gripped the curls at the back of his neck with her eyes squeezed shut as he held onto her, pulling his lips to hers in a passionate kiss where she pushed her tongue into his mouth before he dipped her backwards with the same enthusiasm.

Tig smiled against her mouth as more whistling arose, pulling her back upright and turning so that his back was to his brothers, shielding her from their inquisitive eyes. He smirked as he slid his hands into the open sides of her shirt, covering her tits with his palms - something that the skimpy top barely did.

"You're bad, Tiggy..." She cooed, biting her lip as she shook her head slowly.

"Hey, come on, babe… You said you didn't want me to forget ya." He winked, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he leaned back in to kiss her, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth before he moved down to her neck.

Sydney felt his open mouth on her sensitive skin, knowing what he was about to do - and she couldn't have that. She wove her fingers back into his hair, pulling him back up to her lips before his teeth could make their mark.

"If ya really want somethin' to remember..." She quickly found him a distraction, grabbing his hand and sliding it down the front of her body

"Alright, that's enough!" Clay's voice halted his fingers that had almost reached their destination below her waistband. "Jesus Christ!" The President winced, shaking his head in disgust as he turned towards his bike.

Sydney looked back at Tig with that evil little smirk on her face, cocking a brow and winking as she slid his hand out of her shorts.

"You little tease..." He growled playfully, sliding his fingers into her belt loops so that she couldn't pull away.

"Let's go!" Clay hollered to his crew.

"Gotta give you somethin' to come back for." She forced as much zeal as she could into her flirty smile as the bleak reality continued to set in once the chorus of rumbling engines followed his command.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow." He looked her over one last time.

"I love you." She nodded. "Ride safe."

"I always ride safe." He scoffed with a sly grin as he pulled his helmet down over his curls. "I love you too." He pulled her in for one last kiss before rolling his bike forward into proper formation with a newfound confidence in their standing. It was nice to have an old lady that wasn't begging him to stay behind, or worrying herself sick over the girls that he would be around tonight. She understood the life.

Sydney walked over to where Gemma was kissing Clay goodbye, the President dismissing his wife who moved on to bid her son a safe trip. "Is that just a farewell outfit, or do you got other plans?" He asked with a raised brow as he looked over her especially promiscuous ensemble.

"I'm handling it." She raised a brow, waiting for the confirmation that she had not severely misread his signal.

"Knew I could count on ya to hold things down while we're gone." He nodded with a smile.

"Ride safe, Pres." She smiled as that tiny flicker reignited behind her eyes, retreating to where Gemma stood with Precious, waving goodbye as their old men set off.

The second that the premises were clear of any Harleys, Sydney dropped her eagerly waving hand. "I'll be back later, keep Piney under control." She called to Gemma over her shoulder as she raced to her car, firing up the engine and peeling out of the lot.

Less than an hour later, Sydney found herself pulling up her parking brake where she'd rolled her car along 38th and Allendale in Oakland. She shoved her purse under the seat and double checked that the door was locked as she got out, beginning her stroll down the road where her heels clacked over the broken pavement. She took her time admiring the artistic graffiti that covered the apartment buildings and small businesses along the strip before she finally reached her destination, standing before the heavy iron door with the identifying symbol of the One-Niners.

;

Mano - "Friend, pal, homie" etc.

Oh sweet, sweet, oblivious Tiggy. If only you knew... Als :/ Hale still never gave her a warning :/

Song for this chapter

Go Crazy - Leslie Odom, Jr.