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Come With Me Tonight	By : copperleaves Category: S through Z > Sons of Anarchy Views: 2631 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Sons of Anarchy, and I'm sure as hell not making any money off of this. I do own Olivia Gable and any characters associated with her history.

Chapter List
- 10
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i wish i was a tightrope walker with legs made out of gold

to hold you in my golden legs and never let you go

i wish the world would do what i want it to

and i wish the wind would blow me

blow me back to you

Bob Schneider, "Wish the Wind Would Blow Me"
When Jax and Clay got to the station Unser motioned them into his office. He offered them coffee, which they declined, and shut the door behind them.
"Have a seat," he said.
Clay lowered himself into a chair but Jax remained standing. Unser took a seat behind his desk and tapped his fingers against a folder.
"We got a problem here, boys," he said.
"What'd she do?" said Jax. Unser hadn't wanted to talk about it over the phone, so he and Clay (at Gemma's strong urging) had come down here to bail Olivia out without any idea of why she was in in the first place.
Unser let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair. "That isn't the problem. The guy she attacked is a wife-beatin' son of a bitch and twice her size. He'll drop the charges rather than testify in open court that a hundred and thirty pound girl broke his nose and shot out his knee."
Clay barked out a laugh while Jax smothered a smile. "Girl's got balls, I'll give her that," Clay said.
Unser tilted his head and pushed Olivia's knife across the desk. "She was carryin' this. Luckily it was still closed when my officer got there. The blade's too long, legally speaking, but—"
"Come on, Wayne," Jax said, "if that's a problem then I'm Santa Claus."
He waved that away. "You're right. That's not the issue, either."
"You gonna get to it, or make us play twenty questions?" Clay said.
He wagged his fingers in a be patient gesture. "The arresting officer ran her prints before I even knew she'd been taken in. I remember you saying she didn't want to have much to do with the cops, so I would've tried to spare her that if I could," he said with a nod to Clay.
"So," Jax said, "what'd she do?" He jerked his chin toward the folder on Unser's desk.
He sighed and flipped it open. "We got a match on a Jane Doe outta Georgia. Admitted to a mental ward for attempted suicide." He broke off and lifted a brow at them, but they remained silent. He lowered his head and continued. "Arrested the next day for assaulting an officer. Those charges were dropped, and after her release three days later her trail goes cold. It's like she just disappeared."
The way he said it made Clay frown. "But…?"
"But." Another deep sigh. "Her prints were found at a murder scene."
He pulled a picture out of the folder and slid it across the desk. Clay studied it with a heavy brow and passed it to Jax.
"Who's this asshole?" he said after a moment.
"Name's Theodore Jonathan Flanary, Jr. Your mechanic is his long-lost wife."
Clay and Jax exchanged a look. Clay's head tilted. Jax shrugged. He dropped the photo back onto the desk and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Looks like he was killed at home. In bed. Makes sense her prints would be there," he said.
"That's what I would think, but apparently this guy's daddy is some big shot in Atlanta, and he made a stink about it. Said the only reason she disappeared is because she killed him." He paused. "Weird part is she'd been missing for four days, right? From the time she was admitted until the day she got outta jail. In that whole time neither loving hubby nor grieving daddy-in-law filed a missing persons report."
"Huh," Clay said.
"Also, and maybe you boys know this, but her name ain't Olivia Gable."
That hung in the air for a while as they eyed each other.
Jax scratched his chin and cut a look at Clay before his gaze flicked back to Unser. "What're you sayin', Wayne? Are you gonna hold her for this shit or not?"
He pushed away from his desk and onto his feet. Lifted his hands in a helpless sort of shrug. "She's not a fugitive, apparently. The Atlanta PD would like to question her, but they aren't lookin' to arrest her."
"If the guy she attacked is dropping the charges then you gotta let her go," Clay said.
"That's the way I see it," Unser said with a slow nod.
"Does Atlanta know she's here?" Jax said.
"It's possible. Depends on if they have her prints flagged. Probably do, considering all the fuss this guy made." He drummed his fingers against the file. "If they call I'll tell 'em I didn't have a reason to hold her and she skipped town."
"You think they'll tell daddy dearest?" Clay said.
"Might."
"Fuck," Jax muttered. "That's who she's tryin' to stay away from," he said with a scowl. "The cops are a secondary consideration."
Clay lifted a brow at the way he phrased it, and he shrugged.
"Maybe I can, I don't know—lead them off somehow," Unser said. "Misdirect them, like."
"Good idea," Clay said in a way that meant you sure as hell better. "We don't need any wannabe big shots with vendettas sniffin' around Charming."
"Right," Unser said. "I'll take care of it."
Clay rose and held out his hand. Unser shook it, and Clay squeezed hard. "You always do right by us, Wayne. We know that."
He offered a shaky smile. "I do what I can." He tugged his hand back and cleared his throat. "My guy said she was nuts. Out of her mind. She probably would've started whalin' on the guy if he hadn't stopped her. Any idea what could've set her off?"
Clay and Jax shared another long look.
"I think she just doesn't like wife-beating assholes," Jax said.
Unser grunted. "Join the club." He jerked his head toward the door and shuffled that way. "Come on, then. She'll need a ride."
"Where's her car?" Jax said as they followed him through the squad room.
He glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, uh. Impound lot. We booted and towed it."
"Oh shit," Jax said. He had to stop as a laugh doubled him over. "Ohh shit. Hide that knife, Wayne. You thought she was pissed before? You ain't seen nothin'."

When they got back to TM Tara was waiting for them. She came out of the clubhouse as Jax and Clay's bikes roared into the lot and approached them with her arms crossed over her stomach and her face tight. Olivia felt Jax tense, and as soon as they came to a stop she hopped off the bike.
"You sure you don't want me to take you home?" he said.
"No, it's okay. I've got some things I've got to finish up here." She took the helmet off and handed it to him. "Thanks, Jax. For the ride and…well. Everything."
He shrugged a shoulder. "Don't mention it, Ollie. It's what we do."
Tara joined them and she and Jax exchanged smiles before she turned her attention to Olivia. "You okay?" she said.
"Yeah. The guy didn't press charges."
"You really jumped some random guy outside a convenience store?" Tara said with lifted brows.
"Broke his fuckin' nose, too," Clay said as he joined them. There was a hint of pride in his voice, Olivia thought.
"He was harassing a fifteen year old girl. I hope he gets locked up for statutory rape and they throw away the key." Her eyes darted between Jax and Tara and she realized she needed to make herself scarce. "Anyway. Thanks again. I should get back to work." She spun away, shoved her hands in her pockets, and hurried toward the garage.
"Well," Tara said.
Jax let out a laugh and swung a leg over his bike. "She's pissed because they impounded her car. I thought Unser might arrest her all over again." He put his hands on Tara's waist and pulled her close. "You look like you've got something on your mind."
She sighed and rested her hands on his shoulders. "It's Gemma," she said and cut a look at Clay.
Jax went still. "What now?"
"She stopped by the house to see Abel, told me about Ollie, and then she took off. She was acting—strange. I think maybe—" A quick shake of her head. "I think maybe she went to turn herself in."
He blinked at her. "Oh shit," he said.
"Goddammit," Clay muttered. He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'll go back to the station. You figure out how we're gonna pay Putlova for Jimmy O."
"Yeah, Clay. I'm on it."
"Anything I can do?" Tara said.
"Stay with Abel. I'll call you."
She nodded and tilted her head back for his kiss. "Be careful," she said.
"Always."

The next day the compound was a bustle of activity. She knew something big was going down, but she hadn't asked about it. She wasn't sure that being "part of the family" had to include "knowledge of felonies committed," so despite her increased involvement she still tried to keep out of that side of things.
The garage was closed to customers for the moment, so she was puttering around finding things to do when Phil appeared in the doorway.
"Hey, Ollie?"
"Hey, Phil. Busy day."
"Fuck yeah," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Um, Jax was asking for you. In the clubhouse office."
Her brow furrowed. "Did he say why?"
"Nope. Just asked me to come find you. I'll, uh. I'll finished this up if you wanna go see what he wants."
"Great," she said. "Thanks."
"Sure thing."
She handed him the box of oil filters she'd been unpacking and flashed a tight smile that he didn't return. She wandered toward the clubhouse, not really hurrying, and wondered what this could be about. She'd never been summoned before. Had the Atlanta PD decided they wanted to question her? Had Unser been unsuccessful at distracting them?
She offered nods and smiles to the crow eaters who greeted her by name as she made her way to the office. The guys must be busy elsewhere, because none of them were hanging around. The sound of raised voices stopped her in the hall, and she tiptoed closer to listen.
"You'll be safer with backup, Tara," Jax was saying.
"Then why not one of the guys?" She said it like it wasn't the first time.
He bit back a sigh and she could hear the frustration in his voice. "The guys are all gonna be busy. Look," he said after a moment, "Ollie can handle herself. She's good with a gun, and I feel better about having both of you there, together, than either one of you alone."
There was a short silence. Then, from Tara: "Does this have anything to do with yesterday?"
"A little," Jax said, reluctantly. "Clay's concerned that she might be a liability. More trouble than she's worth. He had Juice dig into this father-in-law of hers, and he's got some pretty sketchy connections down south."
"Criminal connections, I'm guessing."
"Yeah. That's being polite about it." A pause. "She's gotta prove herself, Tara. It's great that she stayed on after she and Chibs had that chat, and everybody's noticed that she's been trying, but it's gonna take more than that to convince Clay."
She heard the sound of pacing. "She could get killed, Jax."
"So could you! Why do you think I want you to have backup?"
"Have you even asked her yet?"
Olivia figured she'd heard enough and poked her head around the doorway. "Asked who what?" she said.
Jackson was leaning against the desk with his arms crossed. Tara stood with her back to the door, hands on her hips. At Olivia's sudden appearance they both went stiff and glanced at her with identical expressions of mingled guilt and vexation.
Jax sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Come in, Ollie. Close the door."
She did so with a sinking heart. It looked like she'd been wrong about that whole "ignorance of felonies" thing, she thought with an internal sigh.

Juice found her (once more in the garage) about an hour later. She was in there to think because it was the only quiet spot on the whole lot. Things had reached a fever pitch, like someone had kicked an ants' nest. She sat on one of the stools and contemplated a side panel she'd been painting day before yesterday. Not for Cheetara. She'd finished that a while back.
Time was a fickle thing. Had it only been two days ago? Yesterday she'd bashed at the sink. Had that bizarre encounter with Juice. Gotten arrested. And now, today, she was going to aid in the commission of a felony. She wasn't expecting to get killed, or even shot at, but maybe that was just blind optimism on her part.
He had paused in the doorway to watch her, and the sight sliced as clean and cold as a razor's edge. She had her head bent over the table and her long fingers tapped out a rhythm against the wood. There was a line between her brows and her nose was scrunched just a little. He cleared his throat and stepped inside. Shut the door behind him and offered a wary smile.
"Hey," he said, quietly.
She summoned a smile of her own. "Hey yourself."
He slipped his hands into the pockets on his cut and studied the floor. When he looked back up again she was watching him with clear, steady eyes. "You gonna be okay about today?" he said.
She shrugged a shoulder and her mouth quirked. "Don't have much choice, do I?"
"That's not true," he said as his forehead crinkled. "You could say no."
"No, Juice. I really can't." She told him what she'd overheard, and his face went cloudy.
"I'm sorry," he said with a grimace. "Clay asked me—"
She waved a hand. "I don't care about that. It's probably better for them to know anyway."
He hesitated. "Why didn't you tell me who he was?"
"I don't know," she said. She toyed with the cuff around her wrist and bit her lip. "The things I told you—I haven't told anyone that much before, not since it first happened." Her mouth quirked. "Telling the truth is a hard habit to get into."
"Yeah," he said. "I guess so." He ducked his head again. Eyed her from under his brows. "You're gonna be okay, Liv. You and Tara."
"Oh, I know," she said, lightly. "Jax wouldn't risk her unless he thought the chances of her getting hurt were slim to none. We'll get Jimmy squared away and back to the garage, and that'll be that."
She looked at him then and offered a little smile. "Listen, about yesterday—"
"No, hey," he said and held up a hand. "I wanted to make sure you're okay. I heard about—about everything."
She let out a strained chuckle. "Yeah. It was a wild time." She flicked her fingers. "I'm fine. Worst part was having to rescue my car from impound."
"Hhmm," he said. "Brave cops."
She acknowledged that with a sardonic grin and a tilt of her head.
A silence fell between them, and he rocked back on his heels and studied the ceiling. He regretted pushing her away yesterday. He wanted to tell her that. He knew he couldn't. He was off to jail today (unless he got killed, of course, which was a possibility, however distant), and he'd be gone fourteen months at the least. That was time for her. Time for both of them. He could finally, completely, get her out of his head and maybe she could—maybe she could try again with that girl from Lo Di. Have a chance at something real.
"I'm not sure we'll have a chance to talk again," he said. "I just wanted to say—"
"Not goodbye, I hope."
"Well." He shrugged. "Maybe see you later?"
Her mouth curved. "That's better."
Their eyes met and held and a thousand things passed unsaid between them. She wanted to tell him she was sorry about everything and that she wished it had all gone differently. He wanted her to know how much he'd miss her—not just while he was away, but after. Once he got out and they'd both moved on and he'd forgotten the taste of her mouth and the feel of her skin beneath his hands.
She must've read at least some of it on his face, because her expression clouded and she jerked her gaze away. "It's getting late," she said. "We should probably—"
"Yeah," he said and cast a glance back toward the lot. "Yeah, you're right."
Her nose scrunched. "I don't know your part in today's happenings, and I'm not asking. Just—be careful, Juice. Okay?"
"Yeah, Liv. You too." He smiled and started away, but her voice stopped him.
"And Juice?"
"Hm?" he said over his shoulder.
She grinned. "Try not to get stabbed this time."
He let out a short, surprised laugh. "I'll do my best."
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