Once You're Gone, You Can't Come Back

by tellmesweetlittlelies

**Final sequel to Into the Black and Out of the Blue** After a drastic decision regarding her future, Tara finds herself unsure whether she'll ever be able to face up to the choices she's made. Meanwhile, with Opie in prison, Jax has his own crises, leaving them both in previously unexplored territory.

17. Chapter 16

Tara emerges into consciousness slowly, gently, just as she'd fallen asleep. Then, she'd had to will away the constant threat of her spinning mind, the receding buzz caused by the liquor she'd consumed, and the sheer want of him that lingered long after they'd drawn back from the precipice her body had been more ready for than her head.

Jax, too, had taken time to settle. Minutes had ticked away in the dark before his ragged breathing had become soft, steady, before the persistent thumping of his heart had evened to a steady beat against her shoulder. Finally, the warmth of his skin and the last of the haze had seemed to encapsulate her until she'd drifted off- unsatisfied, but content.

She'd been more than happy to find sleep, then, and would be happier still to stay here, now- just like this. Only, there's a persistent thrumming that's tickling at her brain, nudging its way into her awareness until she gives in, gives up on recapturing the comfort and peace of just a few minutes ago. Rolling to her side, she yawns, her eyes fluttering open.

There's a bottle of water and a blister pack of what looks like Advil on the small table by the bed- those hadn't been there last night. Wincing a bit at the noise- a distant, droning tapping she suddenly recognizes as the shower- she's instantly thankful for their presence. It's a fleeting thought that's instantly banished by what- who- is absent. The source of the items on the nightstand, not to mention the lingering ache in her heart, the phantom one between her legs, and now the very real sting in her shoulder.

Jax.

He'd evidently been awake for a while if he'd had time to leave the room in search of hydration and OTC meds- the two cornerstones of hangover prevention. Idly, she wonders what he'd worn while on the hunt, as she faintly remembers him tugging his own t-shirt over her head moments before they'd settled into each other's arms and went to sleep.

Her question is answered a moment later when her eyes alight on the small pile of clothing near the en suite door. Basketball shorts she knows he'd had since high school and the flannel shirt she'd worn yesterday- which he'd also owned since high school, at least until she'd stolen it from him almost immediately after they'd connected. She smiles, imagining just how he'd looked placing the items here, for her, while dressed in the curious mix of their clothing as old as their relationship.

The smile fades into something else as she imagines him shedding those clothes, too. He'd been right there- mere feet away from where she was sleeping...

Resolutely, Tara pushes away thoughts of Jax on the other side of the door, nude in the shower, and rolls closer to the edge of the bed to reach for the water. She forces a few of the capsules out of the packet and half-drains the water bottle to wash them down. Despite the beginnings of a headache and a dry mouth, she's surprised that she really doesn't feel too bad, especially for how truly tipsy she'd been last night.

We're not doin' this when we're drunk. And we're definitely not doin' this if your heart's not in it.

Jax's words come back to her, unearthed from a jumbled knot of sleep and liquor, and Tara sighs, rolling onto her back.

As tipsy as she'd been last night, she can say without a doubt this morning that she'd wanted nothing more than to take it to the limits with him- it's why she'd stumbled back here with no inhibitions, her mind emptied of everything but Jax. And still, somehow, she'd managed to get in her own way- just that brief moment of hesitation he'd noticed almost instantly, though she's sure he'd had almost as many drinks as she had.

Not that that had stopped them before.

She can't even count the number of times they'd collapsed onto the bed in the SAMCRO apartment, fantastically wasted and unable to keep their hands off one another. Those were the nights Jax had been insatiable, the combination of the alcohol and his almost endless drive to keep his hands on her and his tongue or his dick inside her leading to hours of him pushing them towards the edge, then drawing back to focus on just her pleasure. And she'd give as good as she got, over, and over, and over again until he finally led them to a climax so intense they'd usually just pass out, still linked in body and soul. Then, they'd sleep like the dead until waking a few hours later to repeat the process once more.

Now, he's so careful, so attuned to her every move that sometimes, she swears he knows what she's thinking before she's able to arrive at the conclusion herself. Not that she isn't thankful- her rational mind knows that she's not fully ready for the fallout that would have resulted from wherever this had been going last night. But she can't help but long for those simpler days where getting lost in him had come as naturally as breathing, and she hadn't woken up the next day with this need to catalogue, analyze, obsess, about every moment of it.

"You takin' a shower? We got to get on the road- I got church."

Speak of the devil…

Actually, Tara muses, as she rolls onto her side again and catches sight of Jax, leaning against the doorframe in a towel, he looks something much closer to angelic. But she doesn't have time to get caught up in how he looks- the way the wet tendrils of hair are resting on his shoulders, the water beading up on his chest, or the faint red mark she'd left just under his chin-

Damn it.

"Yes," she manages, though she winces internally at the way her voice is now tinted with lust in addition to sleep. He doesn't seem to notice, just pushes off the doorframe- and it's to dig through his duffel bag instead of approaching the bed. His movements are stiff, even abrupt, maybe, but it's the fact that he's not meeting her eyes that has her feeling the need to keep talking.

"I won't be long. I just need to, um, freshen up." Jax straightens then, clothes in hand, and finally looks at her- seems to assess her for a moment before nodding, brusquely.

"A'ight, well… soon's I get dressed, it's all yours." He's turning away from her again before she can thank him properly, but she can't help doing it anyway.

"Jax-" It's all she has to say to have him freezing, and he's casting a wary eye in her direction when she rushes onward. "Thank you for the water and- well, everything, this weekend. I'm… I liked being here with you."

He raises an eyebrow, expectantly- though, what he's waiting for, she isn't sure. A moment goes by, and then another, before he responds, tersely.

"Me, too."

And then he's disappearing into the bathroom without a second glance.

---

A half hour later, Tara's the one with damp hair and freshly-scrubbed skin.

She'd emerged from the en-suite fully dressed, unlike Jax earlier, not wanting to add any more awkwardness to the odd tension between them earlier. But, it hadn't mattered because the room had been empty.

Dutifully, she'd gathered the few things still left scattered around the room- the tank she'd stripped over her head last night had given her pause- and stuffed them into her bag, then made the small bed. She'd paused, uncertainly, near the door, bag in hand and unsure what to do, where Jax was, and what was expected of her for the first time all weekend.

And then there had been a sharp rap at the door, followed by a familiar voice- just not the one she'd been expecting.

"Tara?"

Jenn, not Jax, had been at the door, plus a prospect who had offered to take Tara's bag out to the Cutlass, then disappeared with it moments later. The guys, Jenn had said, had sidetracked Jax almost immediately after he'd ventured out into the clubhouse's main room, chatting about motorcycles and God knows what else. And so, after several minutes, she'd taken it upon herself to come back here and retrieve Tara.

Jenn's explanation had been punctuated with a knowing eye roll- but an affectionate one, as she'd talked about Joe's propensity to get wrapped up in talking bikes, especially when there was shit to be done. And once again, Tara couldn't help noticing how at ease she felt in Jenn's presence- at least compared to the way she'd felt around Gemma those last few months despite the fact that she'd known the woman for most of her life.

Together, they'd made their way out into the main room of the clubhouse, where a few of the longer tables had been pushed together and loaded with chafing dishes, casserole pans, bowls, and trays full of every breakfast food imaginable. And although the interaction in the private room had had Tara contrasting Jenn with Gemma just moments before, she'd quickly found herself noticing all the ways this felt exactly like a morning she'd had countless times in Charming.

The homey wood tables, the almost obscene spread of food, the leathered men standing around in small knots chatting and laughing. The women alternately filling plates and shooing children back towards the cluster of sofas in the corner. People of every persuasion ducking behind the bar to pour whiskey into coffee cups and vodka into orange juice at ten o'clock in the morning.

And Jax, half-sitting on a bar stool, his arm draped casually over the back of the seat next to him and chatting easily with the girl behind the bar, a forgotten cigarette burning between his fingers.

Tara had watched him a moment, as the realization that his clipped voice, the stiffness in his movements, the awkward chill in his gaze this morning had all been reserved especially for her. In fact, none were present as he'd talked and laughed with whoever she was. The flare of jealousy- because that's what it was, she knows- had almost immediately waned when the girl had turned away, only to be replaced by something else she hadn't been able to immediately identify when his eyes found hers.

Unlike last night, there'd been no suggestive grin, no flicker of humor in his eyes, no mimed kiss to make her blush. No, today, he'd just… looked at her, like he'd look at anyone else in the world. And somehow, that had stung worse than if she'd seen anger or hurt reflected there, instead.

And then, he'd suddenly been surrounded by a cluster of club brothers, Jenn had gently prodded Tara toward the stack of plates at one end of the table, and the moment was lost. From then on, it had been a repeat of last night, albeit milder, with much less booze and a lot more coffee. She'd effectively distracted herself with a full plate and a lively conversation with the Rogue River old ladies, and Jax had, unlike last night, stayed clear.

In fact, Tara muses, her mind emerging in the present, she hasn't spotted him even once in the last hour.

And despite her absent not-quite-so-ex-boyfriend, it all still works, she realizes. As much as she feels like she's truly free to be herself in the relative anonymity of the UW-Tacoma campus, she belongs here, too, in this world. Even away from the familiarity of Charming and even with this group of women who are fundamentally different from her (and one another)- hell, even amidst the moody tension currently simmering between her and Jax… Somehow, in this messy patchwork of humanity, she fits.

At the end of the day, she isn't all that different from the rest of the strange little family they've created here and among every charter she's ever witnessed. Some of the men and women of the Sons of Anarchy, she knows, didn't have families of their own, while others were estranged or had been driven away or ostracized. Still others had brought their own siblings, spouses, and kids into the MC fold.

But the vast majority of them had chosen to be a part of this odd-yet-formidable group of people that Tara knew from experience loved and protected its members just as fiercely as any blood family on the planet.

God, the pseudo-family she'd found in SAMCRO is something she'd missed almost as intensely as she missed Donna, Opie, and even Jax those first couple months in Tacoma. And, as she watches Courtney poke fun at a blushing and laughing Kim, Lisa take a baby from a much younger girl Tara doesn't recognize, and Joe pause on his way past to drop a kiss on Jenn's head, she realizes it's probably what she'd loved most about Charming, even in those bleak days at the end of her time there.

And since she and Jax were- are- still in the midst of facing the mess they'd made of their relationship, she hadn't had the mental space to think much about the new ties he'd likely been making in the area. Then, when they'd begun making progress toward untangling it all, she'd only briefly wondered why he hadn't much mentioned the Tacoma branch of his extended family.

Now, though…

All those weeks in Tacoma, all his plans to patch in and stay for the foreseeable future… And he hasn't once suggested she make the short trip with him to wherever their clubhouse is? Christ, what does that say about them? Not to mention his intentions to follow through-

"You finished with your plate, sweetheart?"

Tara jumps as Jenn's voice sounds from a couple seats away, and suddenly, she realizes just how long she'd been lost in thought. Many of the women have either filtered away from the table or are standing just behind it.

God…

"Yeah, sorry," she manages, smiling weakly up at Jenn. "I uh…"

"Didn't get much sleep last night?" Jenn smirks, and Tara's immediately thankful for the out.

"Something like that," she responds. Jenn chuckles, then nods towards the bar area to her right.

"Well, I'm thinkin' you're gonna have to catch up on sleep on the drive back up to Tacoma, because it looks like the guys are saying their goodbyes."

Tara has to agree as her gaze follows Jenn's to the bar. Jax has reappeared and is on his feet, exchanging nods and backslaps with the bulk of the Rogue River patches. She watches as he grips Joe's shoulder, nodding earnestly and saying something that has them both grinning. Then, they're sharing a handshake that turns into a brief hug.

As she watches, Jax turns to scan the clubhouse for a brief moment before his eyes lock with hers. The way the grin slides off his face- as if someone had just told him some truly sobering news- sends a spear of apprehension knifing through her chest; apprehension of what, she doesn't know. But as he approaches her table, he dons a tight smile that doesn't reach his eyes, though it softens a bit as Jenn rises to pull him into a hug.

"You all gotta be on your way?"

"'Fraid so, there's always traffic headin' into Tacoma and I gotta make church." He draws back from Jenn to extend a hand toward Tara, though he spares her only a brief glance. Ignoring the uncertainty that's quickly swamping her, she stands and moves to his side, though he drops her hand a moment later. "Thanks for everything this weekend, though. It's been great."

Tara nods in agreement. And then, she's stepping between them to give Jenn her own hug, leaving Jax somewhere behind her while she addresses the remaining old ladies.

"It's been so nice meeting you all." A chorus of affirmations arises in response, nearly drowning out the rest of what she'd intended to say. "I hope we can do this again sometime." And she really does, she realizes, suddenly. Maybe they can-

"Well, Joe and I will see you at the wedding next weekend," Jenn responds, and all thoughts of future trips to Rogue River flee as quickly as they arrived.

"Wedding?" Is all Tara can say. Hell, it's all she can think-

"Yes?" Jenn returns, raising a brow and looking a bit befuddled. "Kane? Tacoma patch, marrying the VP's daughter? Ring a bell?" Tara just nods, dumbly- though at this moment, the only bells that are ringing are warning bells. "Shit, any time an officer's kid gets married, the place is gonna be packed with all the area charters- just figured you'd be there."

Jenn's gaze shifts to Jax, and Tara's follows. Too late, he flashes Jenn a look Tara's all too familiar with. It's that easy Jax Fuckin' Teller grin that means he's putting up a front or playing something off. And suddenly, the warning bells make sense.

"Yeah, we'll be there," he says, smoothly, "I forgot that was comin' up so soon."

The fuck?

As she lets him make their excuses and laugh with her new friends about how busy they both have been, lately, Tara gets lost in her own spiral of thoughts yet again. Had Jax really forgotten about this wedding? Somehow, she doubts that. Hell, even if he had, he'd still failed to mention it to her even once over the weeks they've been rekindling their relationship.

The annoyance, the resentment, the- God, she doesn't even know what the fuck to call it. That feeling that had been lingering in her gut all morning, especially after their strained interaction and his outright indifference… Tara finds that it's rising, slowly, steadily, as they say their goodbyes and head out into the late morning air to cross the gravel lot to the awaiting car.

And maybe it's because the Cutlass was the site of yesterday's agreement with herself to just fucking relax- You love him and he loves you, remember… Or maybe it's got more to do with Jax's continued silence. Maybe it's the way he opens her door for her like he always does when they take her car, but closes it just that little bit too violently. Maybe it's even the way, after he'd mentioned more than once their need to get on the road, that he rounds the hood and then leans against the driver's side door to smoke a cigarette.

All she knows is that whatever's been simmering between them is rapidly coming to a boil that's likely going to burn both of them before the day is out.

---

Hours pass, in which the Cutlass roars down the I-5 in much the same way it had three times in the past couple days. But this time, its two occupants are silent, tense.

Tara had spent the first hundred miles or so tamping down her irritation with Jax, unwilling to start a conversation she wasn't sure she wanted to finish while trapped in a confined space. At first, that had meant studying, but with her mind constantly churning, it was as useless as it had been the day before.

Next, she'd just tried to keep her eyes fixed just as steadfastly on the road in front of them as Jax's. Unfortunately, like always, try as she might to stay aloof to his presence, she hadn't been able to keep her gaze from drifting to him. After the fourth or fifth time, she'd given up altogether and had sat, studying him out of the corner of her eye.

The set of his jaw had been tense, his normally full lips stretched thin as he worried at them off and on with his teeth. His fingers flexed around the steering wheel so frequently that if she didn't know any better, Tara would have thought he was craving a cigarette, just like he had been the day before.

Except, she does know him better than that- and she'd watched him light up the moment they'd left the clubhouse and again at the gas station they'd stopped at just outside of Roseburg. He'd had two then, actually- one right after the other- and she'd thought for a moment he was extracting a third before he'd glanced guiltily in her direction and returned the pack to his pocket.

Craving or not, he's clearly on edge about something, and had been since they'd woken up that morning. Hell, the tension between them seems to have doubled since Jenn had mentioned the wedding. And she'd tried not to let the utter hypocrisy of him not being forthright with her seep in and add to the irritation- cause something to boil over they'd be better off ignoring.

She'd racked her brain for a way to put a stop to all this, thought of a hundred ways to break the tension, start the easy conversation they'd enjoyed the day prior. It's just that every time she'd opened her mouth to say… something, she'd found cutting remarks on the tip of her tongue instead.

And so, rather than start an argument she's not sure they're ready for, she'd settled against the passenger door- this time, keeping her legs and feet tucked safely underneath her instead of Jax- and feigned sleep. Thankfully, the remnants of the slight hangover she'd woken to this morning had taken over some time later.

Now, though, as the 5 North brings them closer and closer to the 705- and home- Tara's wide awake. Well, at least her brain is, and it's inundating her with all the questions she'd successfully pushed away so she could sleep away this awkward, tension-filled drive.

Which is another thing, her brain practically interrupts itself to argue, and Tara can't help but agree, a little.

Although she'd been a little apprehensive about seeing Opie in prison and spending the night at the Rogue River clubhouse, she was actually looking forward to spending time with Jax and working to make whatever-this-is… work. And instead, they've both sat here in silence for well over five hours?

Yeah, what the fuck?

You're ignoring the facts of the situation, the other half of her mind retorts.

After all, what else was she supposed to do if he's not going to tell her things that are important to him? He clearly didn't want to mention this wedding for some reason- and he seemed in such a hurry to cover it up.

It hurts a little, she realizes, slowly, just like it stings that he hadn't once brought her around his own club- hadn't even asked- the weeks they'd been in this strange, almost-a-relationship territory.

And maybe it hurts him that you've been keeping him at arm's length, too, her mind fires back, thankfully before she can think too hard about why he'd want to keep her away from his club.

Like Ope had said, they're not together- and progress has been slow precisely because she hadn't been able to bring herself to let him back in. So can she blame him for being cautious with his own heart?

Wasn't cautious that first night in Rogue River, the second half of her mind retorts, drily. You know, the first night you almost-

"Fuckin' detour," Jax grouses, jolting both halves of her increasingly confused brain back into the present. Tara's eyes fly open, immediately landing on his stiff form across the bench seat from her. He's still not looking at her- his eyes are as resolutely affixed to the road in front of them as they had been when they'd started this drive.

Great.

Sighing, Tara shifts to look out the window, where- sure enough- a series of bright orange traffic cones is forcing them off the freeway and onto the side streets of what she now recognizes as Lakewood, right before Tacoma proper.

"Welcome home…" she mumbles- more to herself than anyone. But for some reason, Jax's measured silence in response has the uncertainty and frustration she'd felt the whole damn day seeming to build upon itself with every passing second.

Christ, she'd spent half a day shut in a car with him- the one person who can get under her skin like this without even trying. Unfortunately, he's also the one person she can't afford to lose her shit on- not now, when they're so close to finally working things out…And somehow, she can't help but feel a bit like the land mines she'd once heard JT and Piney describe when they were talking 'Nam. Like some tripwire had been activated and it's only a matter of time before the inevitable happens.

And as Jax slows to a stop at a red light, a woman in pink running shorts and a hoodie enters the crosswalk. Tara barely notices as she jogs across their vantage point- and unwittingly touches the hair trigger.

"Looks like you," Jax snorts- the first words directed at Tara since the rest stop earlier. Confused, she cranes her neck and can just make out the actual features of the woman, now on the opposite sidewalk and disappearing into the distance. From here, she can see that she has a dark ponytail, but she looks a few years older. So why would-

And the other shoe drops.

"Are you…" Tara can't help but chuckle, though it's a humorless, dry thing, "Are you actually going to sit there and accuse me of running?"

"What?" Jax barely glances her way as he upshifts and moves the car across the intersection and towards the city center. "She looks like you, is all."

And somehow, that makes it worse. His refusal to look at her, even when he's finally starting the argument they've been avoiding since they've been trying to make it work; his feigned cluelessness, even though he knows good and goddamn well why he'd just said what he said. And it's enough to blast her will to keep them on an even keel, to cautiously sidestep any disagreements to smithereens.

"How fucking dare you?"

That's enough to stop him cold. At once, his hand clenches the steering wheel and his head swivels in her direction, ice-blue eyes drawn to her like magnets. The confusion in them only serves to incense her even more, and before he can say something else to piss her off, she's continuing, flinging words at him like the stones she suddenly wishes they were.

"You don't get to do this- get caught up in whatever's bothering you, act cold to me all fucking day, and then try to turn it around on the decision you practically forced me to make."

Jax's brow furrows, his feigned cluelessness registering in his voice, suddenly much higher-pitched than usual.
"Forced- Tara, nobody forced you to do anything. What are you-"

"We're not all handed the keys to the kingdom, Jax. Not everyone is like you- we don't all have the luxury of choices"

"The kingdom?" His voice is incredulous now, and she can practically see the moment the circuit connects, the moment his confusion morphs into anger… and then into grim satisfaction. Probably because it's also the moment his mouth twists into a wry smirk.

"So what, Princess, you're saying you didn't run away from the kingdom all those weeks ago?" Jax spits, sarcasm turning his words into an ugly thing. "Face it, Tara- running is the only thing you know how to do when shit gets hard."

"What are-"

"When shit hit the fan with your dad, you ran- you stayed at the clubhouse with me. When it got hard there and you had a better option, you ran again, moved out and took that apartment. And when Ope went to prison?" Frustrated, Jax runs his hand down his face, his nostrils flaring the moment his hand clears his chin. And then he's snorting, shaking his head. "I mean, don't you ever get tired of it? Running?"

"I wasn't running-"

"Call it whatever you want. But your life has been a series of hit-and-runs. The minute someone makes you feel uncomfortable, tests your loyalty, little Tara packs her bags and hits the road."

"You absolute asshole," she snaps, suddenly fantasizing- and not for the first time- about just how satisfying it would be to let her palm or her fist meet his smug face. "My mom died, and I was sent to live with a relative I'd met like twice in my life because my dad couldn't hold it together with her gone. And then when I came back and he checked out, you were my safe place. Until you checked out on me, too." She glares at him until he looks away, his jaw ticking. "What else could I do but leave?"

Then, his gaze is back, darker and more intense than before.
"Don't tell me it wasn't a choice, Tara. I know I fucked up after Ope went in, and I've admitted it a hundred times. Christ, I've even told you how much I know you deserve Tacoma, school, all the shit that being in Charming couldn't give you." He shakes his head grimly. "But don't act like you didn't choose, like you didn't wait until I was out of town and then leave me a goddamn note to tell me about the decision you'd made. Without me."

" You made the decision to stay without me. You just told me maybe after Ope gets out like it was a given that everything we'd worked for, everything we'd agreed on, was all for shit- because you said so."

"But I'm here. Now. And suddenly, it's like that ain't good enough for you, either!" He laughs, a short brutal huff of air that's a mockery of the real thing. "I don't know what else you want from me, Tara. I left Charming, my family, everything I've ever known, because I love you so goddamn much I hated who I was there without you."

"And who are you here, Jax? Shit, are you even really here?"

"The hell's that supposed to-"

"You say you want to make things work between us, but you're still keeping me out." He shoots her a bewildered look, and she can't help but laugh incredulously. "Don't play dumb, Jax- not now."

"I won't have to if you tell me what the hell you're talking about," he fumes, and Tara can only roll her eyes.

"The wedding? You know, the huge club event happening next fucking weekend that you never bothered to tell me about? Why is that, Jax? If you're so sure you're staying here, so sure you want to be with me, why are you-"

"I didn't know!" Jax counters, smacking his hands against the steering wheel in frustration. "Hell, I didn't even know Kane had an old lady!" Silent, Tara studies him for a moment as his jaw clenches and unclenches with indignance. It rings true, she realizes- but then, that's part of the problem.

"Not only did he have an old lady, but he's dating the VP's daughter. Christ, a big deal like this has to have come up over at the clubhouse- you guys gossip even more than the women do. How could you not know?"

"Because I've been so caught up in trying to fix things with you!" Jax spits, furiously. "Every minute of free time I have, where the hell do you think I am? 'Cause it sure ain't hanging out in the clubhouse shootin' the shit with the guys."

He pauses, briefly, ducking his head to examine the street signs passing overhead as they cross another intersection, and curses under his breath- then a little louder. "God dammit! Where the fuck does this detour end-"

"I'm not your excuse, Jax," Tara counters, interrupting his grumbling and rolling her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. "You say you're all in, that you want to stay here and be with me- well, I'm sorry, Baby, but it doesn't seem like you're even all that invested in this charter."

His incredulous laughter is her only answer for a few, long moments.

And suddenly, he's jerking the steering wheel to the right, sending the Cutlass slicing across traffic and then straight ahead, despite the long-awaited appearance of the large, orange detour sign directing them left. He roars on past the yellow light as it blinks into red, swinging into the far lane and sending their bags thumping off the back seat.

"Jesus, Jax…my street's that way-" Tara gasps, clutching the door frame like a lifeline.

"I know," he responds, grimly. "And now, we're takin' a fuckin' detour."

"Just take me home, Jax," she sighs. And, she finds, that's exactly what she wants- to be alone in her own place. More importantly, she wants to be done with this weekend, done with this stupid argument, done with him-

"You wanted me to be all in- well we're all in now, Babe, whether you like it or not." And, as if to punctuate his words, Jax gives the Cutlass some gas as they rumble across a bridge. His eyes are narrowed, lips in a thin line, determined to take them somewhere- though he's sure as hell not telling her shit about where they're going, or why.

Defiantly, Tara turns her head to look out the window once again- though she's sure it's not quite the fuck you she'd been hoping for, especially when the tears start pricking her eyes, threatening to spill over with the next angry words that come her way. But it's mere minutes before the shops and homes give way to large, industrial warehouses and shipyards, and she can't- won't- force any words that might make sense to come out of her mouth.

Jax yanks the steering wheel to send the car around another sharp corner and over a short gravel road before finally passing through an nondescript entrance in a formidable-looking chain link fence. And Tara's urge to ask him where the hell he thinks he's going dies just as quickly as it had appeared- because now, it's all too clear.

The small lot is full to bursting with bikes, lined up in almost military precision and standing in rows in front of what she now realizes is the SAMTAC clubhouse- all facing its double doors in an odd rendition of soldiers at attention. Jax doesn't approach them, just angles the Cutlass into a space at the back of the lot and stares at her in challenge.

And suddenly, the need to get out, get away from him, returns. Tara's scrabbling at the door handle almost before he can shift into park, ignoring the jumble of their personal possessions now scattered across the back seat as she slams the door. She ignores the handful of men near the front of the lot, some of whom turn in their direction. Instead, she hesitates, torn between the open metal gate to her left and the inviting peace of the street beyond, and the double doors of the clubhouse to her right plus the privacy of Jax's room she knows it offers.

And oh, how she wants to take off, running- literally this time. Maybe she'll find a payphone and call Sarah or Chris to come pick her up. More likely, she'll just run, jog, walk in silence until the noise in her head goes away. But either way, the urge is the same- to postpone this argument for another day when she knows what the hell to do, what to say, to make everything between them okay.

And then Jax is at her side, silent, but solid, the heat rolling off his body and warming her, a bit, against the cold bite of fall in the air. Wordlessly, he takes her hand, just like he had so many times in Charming and now in Rogue River. And suddenly, it's clear there's only one direction she could have chosen, no matter the argument that waits for them there.

They cross the lot, hand in hand- a gesture Tara suddenly realizes had had as much to do with reassuring the men outside the clubhouse that she belongs here, with Jax, as it had convincing her to come inside with him. And somehow, she manages to keep the angry words they'd spoken in the last hour or so off her face- in fact, she's proud as hell they've managed to walk this far without snarking at one another. She even smiles- weakly, she's sure- as a couple guys approach or call out their greetings to Jax, but their words and any response he has are lost to her, seeming to float right past her on the cool breeze as they make their way through the door.

She's similarly unable to take in her surroundings once they enter the building, hardly sees the reapers and Harley memorabilia she knows adorn the walls in her second clubhouse today. What she is aware of, though, is that Jax seems to have picked up speed. Christ, by the time they're well into the main room of the clubhouse, he's all but pulling her after him.

And the moment she hears the voice, the why becomes clear.

"Doc?"

He'd been one of the few to call her that, back in Charming- and the rush of familiarity and comfort his voice brings instantly clashes with all the other shit currently spinning around in her head. She hears Jax mutter a curse under his breath, but despite it, he freezes in his tracks. After a moment's pause, he grips her hand even tighter and swings them around to face the bar.

"Hey, Koz," Tara says, meekly, and Kozik himself is half-jogging from his previous position behind the bar before practically knocking her over with a bear hug. When it's over and he's taken a step back to look at them both, he shakes his head, amused. Then, he's clapping Jax on the back and grinning, jovially.

"'Bout time you brought her around, Bro- and what, it only took a month of me askin' for you to finally do it?"

Jax nods uncomfortably next to her, and suddenly, Tara's irritated all over again. Hell, this is part of why she'd been twisted up and debating with herself on the drive up here. Why is this the first time Jax had even hinted at bringing her by his home, his club- even if it was just to see Kozik? After all, it's not like she'd been about to show up on the club's doorstep like some club girl.

And why the hell isn't he saying anything now?

For his part, Kozik's gaze flickers back and forth between the two of them, his grin fading as the silence stretches out interminably. Jax fidgets with the bottom snap of the kutte she doesn't remember him wearing with his free hand- when had he had time to put that back on- and Tara does her best, once again, to keep the exasperation off her face.

She doesn't realize how unsuccessful her efforts have been until Koz is the one to break the silence once again.

"Well, I can see you kids have some, uh, business to handle," he says, taking another step back and raising his hands in surrender before directing a pointed look in Jax's direction. "Just don't take too long- we got church at six." And then he's smiling again, his eyes crinkling kindly as he nods at Tara.

"I know he deserves it- but don't be too hard on him, okay? He loves ya." She's just about to roll her eyes at the second person in so many days who's told her so- but then he's snickering and punching Jax in the shoulder before turning back to the bar and tossing out over his shoulder- "Besides… he just got rid of that black eye."

They're in Jax's room- the door closed firmly behind them- for about a half-second before he lets go of her hand. And somehow, that serves as a sort of wordless cue that throws Tara right back into the same mix of frustration, nerves, and anger she'd done her damndest to avoid succumbing to in the car, earlier.

"So why did it take you so long to bring me up here?" Tara demands quietly, evenly. And the way he visibly flinches has her remembering Kozik's words from minutes before. "Why did it take a month of Koz asking you for you to finally-"

"What does it matter, Tara? We're here, now," Jax responds, crossing the room and sitting, warily, on the edge of the bed. Tara stays put near the door where he'd left her.

"Because we're only here now after we argued about it. Because Kozik's been suggesting it for a while, and you didn't think to even ask me. Because I can't…" She shakes her head, frustrated, "I can't do this if you're still shutting yourself off from me. This club is a big part of your life, Jax. Or at least it's supposed to be-"

Jax snorts."That's rich, coming from you, Miss, You don't have to pick me up from work, just meet me in the park." His voice cracks into a falsetto, and she'd have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all- except he carries on, caustically. "Like you're ashamed of me or somethin'."

"What?" Tara gasps, and now she is laughing, humorlessly, at his fucking audacity. "Ashamed of y-"

"Yeah," Jax says, bitterly, shrugging a shoulder. "What was I s'posed to think? You didn't want me around your new friends, your coworkers-"

"That had nothing to do with my friends and everything to do with preventing myself from falling right back into what we had before I left Charming. I told you I didn't trust myself to do what's smart when it comes to you. I still felt-"

"Well what about what I felt? Christ Tara, I'd lost my best friend and my girl, then I left my club to come up here and find out I was about to be as lonely as I'd been before I left Charming-"

"Lonely?" Tara bites, rolling her eyes. "I got a good taste this weekend of how lonely you've been-" Jax barks out a laugh and shakes his head, either in disgust or amusement, she can't tell.

"You gotta be kiddin' me, Babe. Is this shit about Honey? I told you not to let 'em get to you-"

"Do they get to you?"

His eyes close abruptly, like she'd slapped him. The silence that follows is deafening, and her words seem to hang in the air as long seconds tick away without a word between them. But while his expression had alternated between confusion, bitter humor, and anger throughout their conversation so far, when his eyes finally open and meet hers once again, the glint of hurt she sees there almost has her wishing back her words.

Almost.

"The hell are you asking me, Tara?" His voice is ragged, and he swallows, hard, waiting for her answer. But she pushes through, with shit she hadn't allowed herself to even think about, let alone ask him, until now.

"Seriously, Jax. Do they? I mean, women like Honey, the club girls, the croweaters… they've always been willing to…" She makes a frustrated motion with her hand. "To do their duty even when it was clear you were with me, even when I was in the room. I can only imagine what they were like when I was gone-"

"You know how many girls I could've slept with over the past few years?" Tara closes her eyes for a moment- now feeling like he'd slapped her.

Suddenly, she's willing away the truth no matter what it is, hating herself for even going down this road and wishing she could fucking disappear, leave well enough alone. But when she opens them again, Jax is still there, his face twisted in disbelief and hurt.

"Hundreds! Maybe more- I don't know. But those girls who push up on me? I barely see their faces. So, if that's really what you wanna know, I haven't been with anyone, Tara…" He looks away, his jaw clenching in frustration. "Because for some goddamn reason, I've been in love with you since I was sixteen- hell, before that. Before I knew what love was."

And somehow, she knows it's true- knows it with a certainty she maybe wouldn't have felt if he'd just vehemently denied the opportunity had existed at all, or pulled her into his arms and dismissed her concerns. But still… she needs him to know why.

"The club, the way they treat women- the way you treated them before we were together…Can you really blame me for asking, Jax?"

He sighs, swipes a hand down his face again- and this time, when he looks at her, he's resigned, almost sad.

"I could barely get out of bed right after you left. Bein' alone, missin' you… it fuckin' broke me. And when I finally pulled myself out of that hole, all I could think of was how to get you back- how to get us back. Those other girls-" He shakes his head in disgust. "You really think I'd do that to you?"

"I…"

"Seriously, Tara- if that's what you believe, then why are we even doin' this?" He doesn't wait for her answer, just pushes off the bed and starts pacing, agitated. "Know what I think? I think you're scared. Scared to get hurt again, scared to trust me, sure- but it's more than that. You're scared that if you let me in, you're gonna have to face the fact that you were a part of this too. Your choices led us here just as much as mine did." He laughs, bitterly.

"And that's why even though I know you still love me, even though you show me it's true every time we're alone together whether you know it or not- you still won't say it. At least not when you're conscious. Because you just don't know if you can forgive me- and you just can't admit you might need to forgive yourself, too."

Tara exhales, shakily. What the hell is she supposed to say to that? When she doesn't respond, she watches as Jax crosses to the dresser and shoves his hands in his pockets- evidently at a loss for something to do, something else to say. His face in the mirror is stormy, and he immediately shifts his gaze away from her reflection.

His words had hit her right where it counts- just like she knows they were intended to. God, she'd felt shitty about leaving him even before she'd actually done it, and she's done apologizing for it. But now that she knows for certain she'd mumbled what had been in her heart that night- and that he'd noticed her hesitance to say it again- she's at a loss for how to explain any of what she's feeling to him. Christ, she can't even make sense of it herself.

So, she starts with what does make sense.

"You know why I left, Jax," Tara says, evenly. And to her surprise, her voice isn't trembling like her insides are right now. Jax only shrugs, still refusing to turn around and face her.

Fine.

"And you know because I've told you why I had to go- just like I know that it hurt you. And I'm sorry about that- I am. But I can't be sorry I left, just like I can't be sorry I came here." Tentatively, Tara takes a step towards him, then another. "I don't think you understand what it's like, to feel like you have nobody and nothing-"

"I just told you-"

"You had the club, though, remember? You had your family."

" You had the club, Tara- and my family-"

"That's right, Jax. Your club. Your family. JT, Piney, the guys- even Gemma- they were great, really. They became my family, too- but only because you were involved. And that's what I meant when I said we don't all have the keys to the fucking kingdom." He scoffs, bracing his hands on the dresser to hang his head below his shoulders.

"No matter where you go, no matter what you do, you've never had to worry about your place in Charming, in your family, in your club family. You'll always be welcome as long as there's the Sons of Anarchy, Jax. They'll give you a job, a place to live- if you get in trouble, they'll get you out of it… And if you lose someone you care about, they'll have your back. I've never had that- and especially not after you checked out on me."

Tara takes another step closer to him, and now, she can see Jax's face in the mirror above the dresser again. His eyes are downcast, his cheeks ruddy with emotion, and he's chewing his lower lip like he's craving a cigarette- which she's sure he is. She tries again, hoping he's at least hearing her even if he isn't ready to actually fucking talk to her yet.

"Leaving you wasn't easy for me, no matter what you think. That's why I had to wait until you were out of town, because God knows I wouldn't have had the strength to do it otherwise. Leaving Trinity, Donna? Christ, that eats at me every day. But leaving Charming?" She huffs out a laugh. "That was a decision I'd already made months before that. It was just supposed to be with you."

Jax whirls around, evidently done listening to her.

"And don't you think we've suffered enough? You're here. I'm here. And everything we feel for each other, it's all still here. What the hell is it gonna take to prove to you that we belong together?"

Tara shakes her head, sadly.

"That isn't the problem, don't you see? Yes, I… I want you, sometimes so much it hurts. I don't think I ever stopped, even when we felt like we were a world apart. Feeling what I feel for you, being with you, um, like that… It was the only time I felt real. Whole. Especially in the weeks before I left."

She's close enough now to reach out and touch him- and it's what she wants to do more than anything in the world… But if she does, he won't hear her, he won't know what's on her heart.

"And like you said back in Oregon- I could still go there. But to steal your words, this can't be that, Jax." She sighs, taking her place next to him against the dresser. "And for me, that means I need to take a minute to know what to do. Know when I can trust you- trust myself- to let you back in without losing myself in the process."

Jax sighs, resigned.

"I know."

"And it's not about getting even, or…or proving some kind of point to you. I just- I can't force myself to trust that you're here to stay, Jax, that's not how trust works."

"So how does it work, Tara? We keep meetin' up like two teenagers sneakin' around? I keep cuttin' out on the club, just hopin' that if I spend enough time showin' you how much I love you, you might be able to say the same?"

"I never said that-"

"That's just it, Babe. You never said anything. Ever since that first day I went to your apartment and we had it out, you haven't said a damn thing about what you need to get us back."

"And neither have you!"

"Because of this!" he explodes, pushing off the dresser and gesturing wildly between them. "I don't wanna fight with you, Tara. Jesus Christ- haven't we already wasted enough time?"

And suddenly, something he'd said snags on the rough edges of the jumble that is her brain at this moment- and she can't help but smile. Jax notices almost immediately, and glares at her.

"What?" But Tara's laughing now, despite herself, and he throws his hands in the air, incensed. "What the hell could be funny?"

"Us," she manages, despite the giggle threatening to burst through. "We did what we always do- avoided talking about this shit until it blew up in our faces." Apparently unconvinced, Jax opens his mouth to argue- but Tara holds up a hand, sobering a bit as he snaps it shut. "You were right- I didn't say anything about what I needed from you to make this work again. And even though that was mostly because I was fucking scared, and lost, and feeling a little- a lot- guilty about my part in all of this? God, I still am, if I'm being honest… I still should've tried to talk to you. Just like you should've tried to talk to me, in Charming, and now."

Jax looks away, and she can't resist reaching to rest a hand on his cheek, gently turning his face towards her once again.

"We have to stop tiptoeing around each other and just hoping things will fix themselves if we wait long enough."

Moments tick by, in which Jax's beautiful blue eyes seem to search hers for all the answers she still can't give him. And she doesn't know what he's found there- all she knows is that he deflates, the fight leaving his body along with the breath she's sure he's been holding since she'd shut him up a minute earlier. Then, he's closing his eyes, nodding his head in the same sort of affirmation she'd seen from him a hundred times since they'd reconnected the first time back when she was just fifteen.

"Yeah," is all Jax says. But then, he's reaching for her hands and drawing them to his lips to kiss both… And it's enough.

"I don't want to fight with you either, Jax- even though it's gonna happen at some point, we're not perfect." His answering chuckle seems to warm her from within, and she can't help returning it with one of her own. "But right now- I don't think we really have to. I mean, we kinda want the same things, don't we?"

He bites his lip, in that way he does when he's contemplating what to say and how to say it- and she squeezes his hands in encouragement.

"Ope said something yesterday, before all this, that had me thinkin'" Jax says, finally. "Guess we're easier to read than we think." Tara smiles, fondly, wishing for the thousandth time that Ope wasn't locked away in a California prison. "He made me realize none of this shit is gonna work- Tacoma, us- unless I'm all in with both you and the club. I gotta find a balance, he said."

"And what does that look like?"

"Truth?" Tara nods, meeting his eyes and finding them open, honest, in stark contrast to the conflict she'd seen swirling there earlier. "I need to make my mark on the club, here- pull duty when I gotta, go on runs, but also that boy scout shit they brought Koz and I up here to do. I gotta show 'em I got shit to offer besides being the mother charter President's kid, so when I ask for a transfer, there won't be any question how they'll vote."

He shakes his head a little before dipping it so his eyes are level with hers. "But that means I'll need to spend a little more time than I've been spendin' with the club."

"I know-"

"But I'm only doin' this if you're all in too, Tara. If you're willing to be here, with me, whenever it makes sense. Whenever you can be." His gaze turns intense, so raw and sincere her heart clenches. "Are you?"

"I am-"

"And," he interrupts her, "I want it the other way around, too, Babe. When you have things you gotta do- school functions, responsibilities, fuckin' sorority parties or some shit, I don't care- I want to be there for you. Be there with you, whenever I can" Tara smiles, resisting the urge to kiss him in favor of squeezing his fingers between hers.

"I've wanted that since I can remember."

Jax's lips part in a smile that's so brilliant that she knows, somehow, what he's about to ask her before he asks it.

"So will you?"

"Will I…" Tara smiles right back, unable to resist making him say exactly what he means, just this once- especially since it had been what started this whole argument.

"Will you go to this wedding with me?"

And though what she wants to do more than anything is throw her arms around him and kiss him until he knows exactly what her answer is, something in her nudges her that if she's joining him in this new territory they're entering, she needs to give him the words, too.

"Yes, J-"

Jax interrupts her for probably the dozenth time today, but this time, it's because his mouth is dropping over hers, effectively stealing her words and her breath right along with them. And as his hands come up to tilt her head back and she gives herself over to the kiss- and to him- the last rational thought to flee from her mind is that he'd gotten her answer both ways, anyway.

She's still kissing him, heedlessly, minutes later, the first time she hears it. But their bodies are pressed together, her hands exploring the broad planes of his back while he has one gripping her hair and the other her hip, and she can't bring herself to care. He's just sliding one hand around to palm her ass when a second, louder, rap at the door has him jerking his mouth away from hers in surprise- though he doesn't stray far, just presses his forehead against hers and closes his eyes in defeat.

"Hey, uh, Jax?" Kozik's muffled murmur comes, a moment later. And the sheer familiarity of his voice, interrupting them, has her eyes prickling unexpectedly. Tara laughs softly, her lips brushing against Jax's, and he mimes a kiss she feels more than sees before pulling her into his chest so he can answer without shouting in her ear.

"Yeah?"

"Um… I dunno what-" Kozik clears his throat, uncertainly. "Well, I just thought I'd give you kids a twenty-minute warning before church. So you have time to uh… finish up." Tara can hear him curse under his breath out there in the hallway. And now, she can't help it- her soft laughter turns into giggles as Jax's chest begins shaking under her cheek. Then Kozik's voice comes again, louder. "Dammit that ain't what I meant…"

"I got you, Kozy. We're comin'," Jax calls amidst his snickers, and Tara can't help squeezing him around the waist, hugging him tight.

Kozik retreats from the door with a chuckle. "Yeah, yeah…"

"We better get out there, Babe," Jax murmurs after a few moments. "You know, 'fore Koz starts thinkin' he interrupted somethin' good-"

"Hey- this was good."

"Don't I know it," Jax leers, suggestively, an adorably insolent grin spreading across his face. And, as if to drive home his point, he lifts his hand from her ass and gives it a solid smack.

"I'm being serious," Tara protests, laughing, lightly pushing at his chest. "We clearly needed this."

"I just need you, Babe," Jax replies, sobering a bit. And though her first instinct is to argue further, the truth she can see in his eyes is enough. "But you're probably right." He sighs, changing tack and dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head. "C'mon- you need to meet the rest of the guys before church." He slides his hands up her body to take hers, and moves as if to pull her after him towards the door.

"Um-" he stops short, as if remembering something, "I mean, if you're okay stickin' around for an hour or so. I dunno if I got time to take you to your place, get my bike and shit before-"

"Jax…" Tara laughs, pulling him towards her so she can reach up on her toes and graze his lips with hers. "It's fine. I'm fine. I have a light day tomorrow, and besides- I've done this before, remember?"

And, she finds, as he grins back at her and then drops a plucking kiss, then two, on her lips before leading her out the door- she really is fine. Somehow, the uncertainty, the unsteadiness, that had been looming between them off and on since his arrival on her doorstep is gone- and with it, any lingering apprehension she'd had about meeting his Tacoma brothers.

Another likely catalyst for that- though minor in comparison- Tara reasons as they emerge into the main room of the clubhouse, is standing behind the bar, grinning sheepishly.

"What's up, Doc?" Kozik calls, chomping on his ever-present stick of gum like it's a damn carrot stick and winking in her general direction. Tara groans, but can't help laughing at the worst joke ever.

"I'm not a doc yet," she admonishes, but this time, her smile is real and Kozik smirks at her before waving her off.

"You will be, just give it a few years. I got faith in you." He turns his attention to Jax, who's just come to a stop beside her. "I see you're still walkin' straight, so she must've at least let you keep your balls." He snickers as Jax flips him off, then he holds up both hands. "Like I've told you a shitload of times before, it ain't like you don't deserve it."

"Yeah, okay, dick," Jax scoffs- but he laughs just the same.

"Seriously though, you two good?" Kozik leans against the back bar, raising his eyebrows and glancing between the two of them. "He's come a long way, Doc. Took him a while to get his head extracted from his ass, but he loves ya, I know that much." Tara feels the rush of warmth color her cheeks- like she always does when put on the spot like this- but she's much surer of the answer to his question than she had been a day ago when Opie had asked it.

"Yeah, Koz, we're good."

"Good," he repeats, nodding in satisfaction.

"The hell you doin' back there, anyway?" Jax asks, changing the subject and moving them toward the bar. He points to the accouterments scattered on the bar top- a squatty, spiral-bound book, a small knife and cutting board, a few other metal tools Tara can't begin to identify, a big metal cup, and an assortment of glasses and bottles. "You a fuckin' scientist now or some shit?"

"Oh this," Kozik chuckles, easily. "I'm learnin' how to bartend- picked up a manual and everything."

"Why?" Jax returns, nonplussed. "I mean, ain't that what club girls are for?"

"Ah, them," Koz scoffs, waving a hand. "As Gemma would put it, club girls ain't expected to do much more than open beers and uh-" he pinkens and shoots Tara a censoring glance. "Well, uh, all anyone expects 'em to do around here is pour a beer, crack a bottle, or dump a shot into a glass. Which is all they need to do ninety-nine percent of the time. But…" Tara looks on curiously as his blush deepens. "You know Angie's makin' the trip up here to go to this wedding, and there's that party the night before." He shrugs, as if that's answered the question, and quiets a moment. Then, suddenly, he seems to realize both Jax and Tara are looking at him, expectantly.

"I mean… She likes beer just fine, but she' always talked about this hoity-toity fruity thing she had down in New Orleans back in college- a hurricane, she called it. 'Course, that was before I met her. But I figured that until I could make time to take her down there and have the real thing, I'd just learn to make one myself. This was just a good opportunity."

Awwwwwwww, Tara doesn't say.

"I'm sure she'll love that. Really, Koz, that's very sweet." She does say, smiling at Kozik in encouragement.

"Yeah, I hope so," he says, earnestly. "Turns out, bein' in an MC mostly sober except the odd beer now and then leaves me with a lot of time on my hands. But I'm gettin' to be a pretty decent bartender anyway."

He's thoughtful for a moment, and Tara wonders for maybe the first time what Kozik had been like in his former life as an addict. She can't imagine him as anything but cheerful, witty, committed to his brothers and his girl- and she's not sure she wants to.

Then, he's straightening, seeming to come to a decision that's immediately evident as he grins at them.

"Here, I'll make ya one quick before church."

Kozik's just flipped to what Tara assumes is the correct page in his small book when the clubhouse doors thump open and a pack of men in kuttes bundle inside. One of them- a tall, lanky man with a mustache who would remind her of Jax's Uncle Jury, except he's a few pounds lighter and a few years younger- calls out over the low din.

"'Ay Koz- I ask you to pour me a beer, is it gonna come with a goddamn piece of fruit in it this time?"

"Nah, bro-" Kozik returns, not looking up from what he's doing. "Though if you really want a garnish, maybe I'll just dunk my meat in it." The roar of laughter that sets up behind her at that remark gets closer and closer- until the men are gathered at the bar around Tara and Jax. Chuckling, the first man- he's sporting a Secretary patch below his Tacoma patch, Tara notices- rounds the end of the bar and opens the fridge to extract a bottle of Bud Light.

"Guess I'll take mine vegetarian," he says, raising the bottle in a mock toast in Koz's general direction.

"'S just as well," Koz answers as he slaps a lid onto the metal cup with a flourish. Then he smirks at Secretary as he begins shaking it, somehow managing to look like he'd been doing this for years instead of days. "Because this shit's a hobby, not a career."

"Ignore these assholes, Kozy," a man about JT's age with a similar goatee and shock of light brown hair says as he pushes through the group to lean on the bar on Jax's other side. Tara can't see his patches, but something about this guy exudes authority. She's proven right a moment later when he calls out to Secretary, who's still hovering behind the bar.

"Hey Wiley- grab me a beer, will ya?" Wiley grumbles good-naturedly but reaches back into the fridge to fetch the first man a beer. He pops off the cap and takes an appreciative drink before nodding at Jax and reaching to slap him on the shoulder. "So, ya made the trip, didya?"

"Yep, came back in one piece and everything," Jax responds, plucking at his kutte as if to show that nothing, in fact, had befallen them on the way to or from Rogue River. "Had that conversation you wanted, and then went on down to Cali to visit Opie."

"Good deal, Son. We'll talk specifics in church. But first," he shifts his gaze to Tara, "Who's this lovely young lady?"

The question is a stark contrast to the way the Rogue River president- and his wife- had already known her name and exactly who she is to Jax. She can't help but wonder what, if anything, he'd told anyone other than Kozik about their relationship, including how she'd left Charming, why he's here, or how complicated it really is at the moment.

For his part, though, Jax doesn't seem to be struggling under the weight of the same questions. He simply smirks and reaches to capture Tara's hand, holding it up like it's a prize he'd already won.

"This is Tara, she's my old lady-"

Anything else he'd been about to say is drowned out by the onslaught of whoops and hollers- and even a few wolf whistles- from the rest of SAMTAC. And despite the fact that someone punches him on the shoulder, and someone else jostles him and laughs in his ear about being too young to be tied down, his blue eyes stay locked on hers until the last shouts die away.

This okay? Those eyes ask her, wordlessly. And she knows he's understood her response when his demeanor transforms- when his smirk blossoms into that full, beautiful smile that brings out his dimples and makes his eyes shine.

And somehow, despite everything that's passed between them and all they've done to sabotage themselves… It sounds right- it feels right. And at once, she knows that no matter what happens in the future, this is a part of who she'll always be.

"Well nice to meet ya, darlin'" the man says, straightening and raising his beer bottle. "I'm Lee, but I'll have to let Jax here fill you in on everyone else. He'll have to hurry though-" he nudges Jax, "'Cause the gavel's droppin' in about two minutes."

As Lee walks away, Jax happily names the remaining handful of members, most of whom are scrambling to grab a drink before church. There's Lorca, Bowie, Wiley, Kane- who Jenn had mentioned- and several others Tara's certain she'll forget before the next time she sees them all.

There will be a next time, she realizes, and it's a thought that sends a brief thrill down her spine.

One by one, they all send her a wink, a mock toast, or an appraising look, and then return to laughing and talking with one another. Tara can't help but notice that most are a good ten years or more older than Jax- and most either heavily tattooed or at least slightly grizzled like Bobby and Piney. No wonder Jax and Kozik had been a welcome addition for whatever "boy scout shit" actually is.

'Chuuuuuuuuurch!" someone bellows just as a long-haired, graying biker releases Tara's hand. And just like that, the crowd around the bar thins, draining away into the adjoining room one by one.

"Your drink, cher," Kozik says behind her, and she turns to see him sliding a tall glass of something bright pinky-orange towards her with a flourish.

" Cher?" she murmurs, studying the glass briefly before raising her eyes to Kozik, who's shrugging indifferently.

"Means sweetheart in Cajun."

Jax snorts in response and Kozik reaches across the bar to land a solid punch on his shoulder.

"Go ahead and laugh. But don't act like you ain't drownin' in a bowl of pussy whip just like I am, little brother," Kozik snarks- then shifts his eye to Tara. "No offense intended, Doc."Jax sighs, rubbing his shoulder.

"A'ight, Babe- you sure you're gonna be okay hangin' in my room until this is over?" Tara smiles softly, and turns her face up to his- just like she'd done almost every single time they'd had this exact same conversation back in Charming.

"'Course." And it's just as familiar, just as fitting when he pulls her to him and kisses her once, twice- firm, like the stamp of possession she knows somewhere deep down within her that it is. Like she belongs here, with him.

"Alright, break it up, kids." Kozik's rounded the bar by the time they resurface and he drapes an arm around Jax's shoulder to make his point. "Do me a favor, will ya?" He asks, waggling his brows and pointing at Tara with something small and black. He doesn't wait for her to answer, just hands it to her- and now she can see it's a cell phone. "Call Angie, okay? She's been wantin' to hear from ya- number's saved in the phone memory, just hit that down arrow until you see her."

With a grin, he gives Jax a little shove towards the chapel, their good-natured banter fading with each step until the heavy thump of the chapel door blocks it completely.

Back in Jax's room, Tara leans against the thin wooden door until it closes with a click, allowing her eyes to drift around the room as if she's seeing it for the first time. And actually, she thinks, she is. Before, she'd been too pissed off and too caught up in their argument to really take in her surroundings. But now, she looks at the small room with new eyes.

Double bed, she notes with some amusement- a definite upgrade from the spare room they'd shared in Rogue River the two nights before. But then the coverlet- a homely patchwork quilt with yarn ties that's definitely seen better days, catches her attention and the moment of recognition it inspires sends a lump rising in her throat.

If it's not the quilt from their apartment over the vet clinic garage in Charming- and she's sure it is- it's a damn good copy. Drifting towards the bed, suddenly moorless, Tara reaches out to rub the fabric between two fingers. It's soft as she remembers, with years of wear and washing. Unbidden, her mind conjures up the image of Jax sleeping beneath the quilt they'd once shared during these intervening months- taking from it the very comfort she'd denied herself.

Sighing, shakily, she smooths its surface with her fingertips. Then, pushing away the countless other memories that surface- of herself, of him, of them- she shifts her eyes to the small cabinet beside the bed.

It, too, is a near carbon-copy of a familiar item- this time, the nightstand they'd shared in the SAMCRO apartment. Its top is littered with the trappings of everyday life in the Sons of Anarchy, down to the ancient faux-wood alarm clock, Jax's spare bike keys, and the skull ring that had once been JTs but had since passed from Jax to Tara and back to Jax once again.

But what stands out among the clutter is a yellow post-it, stuck to the base of the brass lamp and featuring what she recognizes as her handwriting from God knows how long ago.

Love You Forever - T

Try as she might, she can't conjure up any memory of when she might've written it- though she knows she'd meant every word, whenever it was.

Propped up next to it is a photo she hadn't been able to bear putting up in her own apartment those first weeks in Tacoma. It's her favorite shot of the two of them, sitting astride Jax's Dyna on the night of his sixteenth birthday. Slowly, she sets her glass down in an open space on the nightstand and reaches to take a corner of the photo between a thumb and a finger.

Jax is grinning like he'd just been crowned King of the World- likely because he pretty much had. And her… God, she'd been so scared, then- so uncertain about risking her friendship with the person she'd been closer to than practically anyone, ever. But she'd willingly climbed on the back of his bike and trusted him with so many pieces of her life.

And that's what's reflected in her face, her very demeanor in the photo, she realizes. She's holding him around the waist, smiling softly and resting her cheek against his back. No sign of the tumultuous discussion that's about to come, no hint that he'd just asked her- in front of a crowd, no less- to take that significant first ride on the back of his bike. No hint at what it would all mean for them.

Just happiness, trust, and, yes- love.

As Tara replaces the snapshot, her eyes drift around the room again. The rest of the place is as simple as you'd expect from an SOA apartment- the only other piece of furniture in the room is the dresser they'd leaned against earlier. The framed mirror that rests above it features a handful of photos of herself, herself and Jax, even a couple with Ope and Donna. There's also a bigger one of the entire club- plus what looks like a bunch of old ladies- resting next to the mirror in what looks like one of Gemma's gaudy brass and enamel frames.

Moving closer, Tara inspects the rows of smiling faces, immediately hit full force by a wave of longing as she spots not only herself but Jax, Donna, Opie, JT, Gemma, Piney, Kozik, Angela, Bobby, even Tig. They'd been Jax's family first, there's no mistaking that- and their love may or may not be dependent on her relationship with him- but she misses most of them almost as fiercely as she'd missed Jax himself those first lonely days in Tacoma.

Tossed haphazardly onto the dresser top is a sketchbook, which she regards with mild surprise. She'd known Jax to keep a journal on his person at all times- and she's more than certain that if she were to go snooping in one or more of these drawers, she'd find a stack of filled ones. But, she'd never noticed him sketching.

Tara traces a finger over the thick, embossed cover; and then, after a brief moment of indecision, flips it open. The first page features an exact replica of the club patch, complete with top and bottom rockers, and she pages past that without hesitation. Next, there's some Old English letters in various sizes- clearly something he's practicing- before she stops at a fairly detailed sketch of a Celtic knot. The same one he wears on his bicep for Tommy. Are these all tattoos? she wonders, briefly, before turning the page and stopping short.

There, sketched on the page in flowing script, is her own tattoo- her favorite part of their poem. Its font, spacing, everything is a perfect replica of the ink that adorns her upper back, as if he'd committed it to memory.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest

She skims a finger over the beautifully detailed crow that spreads its wings underneath- it's clear by now what that's meant to signify- and turns to the next page,

On it is a cluster of a few small drawings, though where they belong in relation to one another- or if they're meant to be together at all- isn't immediately clear. There's her name, stark black contrasting with light gray shading in gorgeous Old English letters. Next to it, an ornate rose trails into a strand of thorns; above it, a compass, nestled among a spray of roses.

The next page- and the last he'd used, it looks like- has her heart pounding for reasons she can't explain. It features a compass similar to the one on the previous page- similar to the one she's wearing right now, around her neck, actually- though this one is larger, less delicate. It's flanked by roses above and below, just like the other, but there's also detailed-looking scrollwork wrapped around it. And that, she finds, was evidently meant to be filled with words, too- though they're clearly unfinished, not even a full thought and only half-shaded.

She is my

My what? Tara wonders. And maybe even just as importantly, when had he done this?

Fortunately, she needs to search only briefly before she spots a tiny date and his initials- JNT- in the bottom right corner. A couple weeks ago, she realizes- right after the beginnings of their reconnection the night she'd injured her ankle. Quickly, she flips through the previous pages, her eyes quickly finding the dates now that she knows where to look. All are from within the past two months- both before and after he'd appeared at her apartment door, but assuredly since he'd arrived in Tacoma.

Carefully, Tara closes the cover, not quite ready to contemplate its meaning. Instead, she gives the sketchbook a gentle pat, sure to leave it exactly where she'd found it.

There's not much else on the dresser, besides Jax's belt, a pocket knife, and a slip of paper in a hand she doesn't recognize with her own phone number on it. And so, she backs away, this strange mission to know him as he is, here, only partially fulfilled.

Tara drifts past the end of the bed, where Jax's spare pair of white tennis shoes are in their customary place half-kicked beneath the footboard. And, she notes, so are the sweatpants, t-shirt, and hoodie he'd likely had on before he'd showered, dressed, and ridden to pick her up two days prior.

Smiling faintly, she stoops to gather them up, finding an odd bit of comfort in the mundane task's familiarity, as it's something she'd done countless times before. But while then, she'd found Jax's tendency to leave a trail of clothing on the way to the bathroom eye-roll-worthy at best and annoying at worst, now there's some pleasure in the intimacy of it all.

A brief search reveals that the hamper is in the small adjoining bathroom. And after she drops the clothing in, she finds she can't resist the draw of his things any more than she could in his bedroom moments earlier.

Gently, Tara runs a finger along the familiar lineup of deodorant, shaving cream, and cologne, uncapping the latter to spray a bit on her own wrist. After a brief moment of hesitation, she breathes in the fragrance, the heady notes of CK One filling her nostrils. Somehow, while it's clearly lacking the rest of whatever makes up Jax's unique scent, it's a rush of memories just the same, and she closes her eyes a moment to take them all in.

Replacing the bottle, Tara takes time for a brief peek in the shower, too, only to discover that he's purchased his brand of bar soap and her brand of everything else. She can't help but smile fondly, at the memory that surfaces. She'd realized he'd run out of his own toiletries weeks prior, and instead of buying more, Jax had been using her shampoo and conditioner.

It was an argument over an unexpectedly empty bottle that had started mid-shower when she'd yelled his name (and a few assorted curses) in frustration, bringing him stalking into the bathroom to see what the hell was going on. It had ended with her pressed against the bathroom counter, murmuring his name for an entirely different reason.

Tara re-enters the bedroom and breathes deeply, surrounded by his things, surrounded by Jax, for the first time in a long time. And somehow, she feels like she knows him just a little better, how he is and who he is, here.

His room, sparse as it is, she realizes, is glaringly different from her own humble apartment in one important way. All the little pieces of her, of them, that dot the landscape shine like beacons now that she's paying attention.

Really, it's a testament to how they'd both weathered their time apart- Tara by doing whatever she could to keep moving forward, not daring to risk losing herself in him even a little, even if it meant hiding from every photo, every memory of him but the one she now carries on her back. Jax, by contrast, had survived by surrounding himself with whatever things he could, perhaps to try to keep up the faith that they'd find their way back together again.

God, as miserable as she'd been, those dark days at the beginning, she'd known on some level that he'd all but fallen apart. He'd told her as much, and so had Opie and Donna. Knowing now that he'd held that tightly onto them while she'd done what she could to avoid all she could… Well, maybe Jax had been right and she'd been running after all.

Lost in thought, Tara sinks onto his bed, onto the quilt she'd left behind because she hadn't been able to bear the thought of sleeping under it without him. Then, something hard presses against her hip, wedging its way into her stream of thoughts. Shifting, uncomfortably, she lifts her hips to retrieve the offending item- the cell phone Kozik had handed her earlier.

Sighing in relief at the thought of a distraction from the thinking- and overthinking- she's bound to do the longer she's alone in here, Tara snuggles back into Jax's pillow and tries to remember what Kozik had told her.

Hit the down arrow and you'll see her.

A cautious press of what looks like the only key that could be a down arrow has a list of names and their numbers appearing on the tiny gray screen. "Angie" is right there at the top. Curiously, Tara presses the arrow again, and again, cycling through "JT" and then "Lee" and then her own name. Another few presses and the list jumps back up to "Angie." Huh.

Unsure how to continue now, Tara takes a chance and presses the button with the thin green line, and is delighted when it seems to start dialing. One ring, two, then three and four, pass by without anything on the other end. And just when she's panicking and wondering how to hang this damn thing up if there's no answer, there's a brief crackling- and then Angela's voice comes, breathless, over the line.

"Hey Baby, I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting your call- I thought you had church-"

"It's alright... darlin'" Tara can't resist interrupting- and there's a long pause before Angela's voice comes again.

"Tara? Is it really you? My caller ID said-"

"Yes," she answers, giggling. "Kozik and Jax are in church, but he gave me the phone so I could call you while I wait."

"Oh my God, I'm so glad you called! I haven't heard from you since- wait, when was that even?"

"Since the night I found out Jax was in town," Tara finishes, guiltily. "I'm sorry I haven't called, it's been a little, well…"

"Oh I've been hearing," Angela says, laughing. "Herm's been telling me all the dirty details. Or, lack thereof."

"Oh, God, what did he say?" Tara groans.

"Well first, he said Jax totally chickened out-"

"He did- that was the night I called you, trying to work out if it was really him and how he knew I was in town."

"Then, he said he talked him up and sent him down to find you like he was a new man. And you slammed the door right in his face." Tara's ears burn, but she can't help but match the note of humor she hears in Angela's voice.

"I may or may not have done that…"

"For a while, Herm said he was constantly going back and forth with Jax about this cell phone JT gave them, because he was always on it with you. And then, I guess he wised up and just started going down there to see you instead."

"Sounds about right," Tara agrees.

"And then, you busted your knee or something-

"Ankle, actually-"

"Whatever. And now…" Angela pauses dramatically. "Jax has been putting in a lot of effort to make sure he doesn't lose his spot. Am I all caught up?"

"Pretty much," Tara laughs.

"How are things with you two? Real talk?" Tara sighs.

"We just had a huge fight, actually-"

"Oh, shit. Tara-"

"No, no- it was good. I think we've both been sort of avoiding talking about things we knew were gonna cause an argument. But that sorta made it hard to figure out where we stood, you know?"

"I heard a quote once- if you avoid conflict to keep the peace, you start a war in yourself."

"Well that was definitely true for me," Tara snorts. "I've been so mixed up lately. I mean- I want to let him back in more than anything. What we had, what we still have… God, I missed him so much. But I was too afraid to trust, again- even when he told me he planned to ask for a transfer when this job was over."

Silence. Shit, maybe she'd said too much- after all, she's got no real idea who Jax had told about his plans to transfer up here.

And then, Angela's voice comes, calm, and steady.

"Herm and I were wondering if he might decide to stay up there. As much as the club down here'll miss him- and as much as I wish you were coming back to Charming to stay- it makes the most sense if you want to stay together."

"Thanks, Angela," Tara breathes, reassured. "I just don't know if I'll believe it 'till I see it, you know? His whole world is in Charming-"

"Except you. I think you underestimate the lengths Jax will go to make sure he doesn't lose you again. You didn't see him here, without you, Tara. He's not going to let himself go through that again." God, that feels good to hear, even if she does wince every time someone reminds her how miserable she'd really left him.

"We'll see," Tara manages. "He did just introduce me to all the Tacoma guys, and like you probably guessed, I finally got to see Kozik tonight."

"Well, that's a step in the right direction. Herm said you all were going to see Opie this weekend, too- how'd that go?"

"It was good. He's good, actually- well, as good as you could expect. But it was weird being back in Cali without going to Charming, you know?"

"I'm sure." There's a beat, and Tara's closing her eyes briefly before rushing to fill in the silence.

"Donna was out of town, something about her parents- and Jax said Koz said-"

"I've been swamped, I had a continuing ed course I had to knock out down in Fresno. But you'll get to see me soon enough! I don't know if Herm told you, but I'm making the trip up there for the wedding weekend."

"I think he might've mentioned that, yes," Tara responds, giggling, slyly. Then, another thought occurs to her. "Do you think you could convince Donna to come with you?"

"Oh, Gemma's already handled that," Angela responds, drily. "Practically told the poor girl she doesn't have a choice. You see, we're the only old ladies that make a good impression, as it were." Tara snickers, rolling her eyes even though Angela can't see her. "But at least we'll get a good seat for the fireworks."

"The fireworks?" She hadn't heard anyone mention fireworks, at least not yet-

"Yeah," Angela laughs, "The fireworks that are bound to happen when Gemma: A, finds out you're in Tacoma. B, puts two and two together about why Jax took a long-term assignment away from mommy dearest. And C, figures out what we already suspected- that he plans to put in for a transfer to make it a permanent thing. The Fourth of July is gonna have nothing on Gemma Teller when she finds out she's still got second billing to the woman who broke her baby boy's heart."

And although they chat for another twenty minutes, it's this thought that still seems to ring in Tara's ears long after they've said their goodbyes.

**A/N- Have patience with me (and with them)- we're so close to them finally putting all the remaining s- behind them. But, it's all things that needed to be said if they're going to try to make this work. And now, (ominous music) you-know-who is coming to town. Here's hoping Gemma won't cause this one step forward, two steps back thing they have going to be several extra steps back. If you would, leave me a few words with what you think will happen when things all come to a head next chapter.

Thanks as always to Ang R for her unwavering support and tireless ability to work things out when my brain doesn't want to keep going.**