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Come With Me Tonight	By : copperleaves Category: S through Z > Sons of Anarchy Views: 2633 -:- 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
- 11
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and while the future's there for anyone to change, still you know it seems

it would be easier sometimes to change the past

i'm just one or two years and a couple of changes behind you

in my lessons at love's pain and heartache school

where if you feel too free and you need something to remind you

there's this loneliness springing up from your life

like a fountain from a pool

Jackson Browne, "Fountain of Sorrow"
From the outside, fourteen months seemed like a long time. That was an ironic way to phrase it, really, since surely it had seemed the longest to the guys on the inside—Jax, Clay, Tig, Happy, Bobby, Juice—but what she meant was it seemed like a long time until you lived it. On the day the guys were arrested, the day Chibs killed Jimmy O and Opie killed Stahl and Tara and Olivia had played their own small roles, it had seemed as though fourteen months would stretch forever.
Maybe the part that passed the slowest were the six months of Gemma's house arrest. About a month in she had started to go stir-crazy, despite everyone's best efforts to keep her spirits up. She called Chucky constantly to check on TM (even though she knew perfectly well it was humming along in her absence). She fussed over Tara like a mama bear. She baked and cooked like a whirling dervish, which to Olivia was pretty much the only upside to the whole situation: she didn't have to eat fast food or her own wretched cooking almost the entire tenure.
In October they'd thrown a surprise party for Olivia's thirtieth birthday. It was also nearly the one year anniversary of her start date at TM, something that both amazed and slightly appalled her. The party, per force, had to be at Gemma and Clay's, and Gemma had outdone herself with the food. There'd been a huge cake and a pile of presents and Kozik had gotten very drunk and started asking anyone who would listen if they agreed Olivia looked just like Dana Scully. He ended up passed out in the bathtub and they'd all just left him there, but when he woke up the next morning someone had shoved a giant blow up alien in with him and his screams had prompted the neighbors to call the cops.
In addition, she had somehow found herself roped into helping Lyla and Gemma plan a baby shower for Tara. She grumbled about it, but the grumbling was mostly for show. Gemma baked cupcakes with blue icing and Lyla bought every "It's a Boy!" bit of merchandise the party store had and Olivia rewired Tara's doorbell to play a different tune (each one, somehow, about babies) every time someone rang it. (She changed it back a few days later, but it had stayed that way long enough for Tara to threaten Olivia with some truly imaginative forms of death.)
Olivia's house was finished, and it looked amazing. She'd ultimately caved and asked for help, because as she'd worked she'd realized some tasks were physically beyond her. At one point or another she'd had virtually everyone involved with the club (including Gemma, after she was sprung) in and out of her house. It had made her antsy and nervous, but also…it soothed her, somehow. Like maybe this was the right place for her and these people really could be a sort of pseudo-family.
She had some vacation time and she chose to take it the week of their release. No one tried to stop her or even commented on it, and if they thought it was a strange time to leave town, they kept that thought to themselves. The new sheriff had been nosing around lately, apparently eager for the guys' return so he could knock a few heads together, so it made sense she would want to make herself scarce. That was her excuse, anyway. In reality the time that had seemed to stretch so interminably before had suddenly collapsed on itself. Months had become weeks, weeks had become days, and then, bam. Release day.
She wasn't ready. Part of her hated that she put so much significance into what would more than likely be an anti-climactic encounter, but she couldn't help herself. They'd left things so awkward and strange, and she felt a lingering sense of guilt that she hadn't been up to see him while he was away. She hadn't been up to see any of them, but—well. If she'd visited anybody it would've been him.
She'd been trying to get her life together without him in it. She'd wanted to get him out of her head. Stop worrying. Stop wishing things had gone differently. She and Kitty had tried again, more seriously this time, and for about six months things had been pretty great. Then, slowly, it had all started breaking down, and by month eight it had fallen apart completely.
It's hard to make a relationship work when one member of it can't stop thinking about someone else.
They had been out a week when she came back to work. She sat in her car a few minutes after she pulled in and listened to the sound of the engine ticking as it cooled. She hadn't decided what she was going to say to Juice. Would she tell him what had happened with Kitty and, more importantly, why? Or would she just try to maintain the same strained-but-casual relationship they'd had before?
She guessed it had to depend on him. If he still felt the same way he had before then she'd drop it. Finally, once and for all, just drop it. There were only so many times you could butt your head against a wall before you started to bleed.
The first person she saw when she stepped through the clubhouse door was Tig. He and Chibs were at the bar, and at the sight of her Tig let out a whoop.
"There she is! Now we can have a real game!"
She slid her sunglasses up onto her head and laughed. "You've only been out a few days, Tiggy. Don't you think you should hold off on embarrassing yourself?"
"Always the smart ass," he said. He grabbed her up in a hug that fourteen months ago probably would've earned him a knee to the groin. Now, though, she just laughed again and hugged him back.
"It's good to see you, too. Glad to be home?"
"You know it," Bobby said as he joined them. "Hey, Ollie."
She hugged him, too, and if he squeezed a little harder than was strictly necessary, she gave him a pass just this once.
"Welcome back, lass," Chibs said. "How was your trip?"
"Oh, you know. Sun, sand, and lots of beer."
"Fuckin' miserable, in other words. Except for the beer," Tig said.
"Somethin' against the beach, Tig?" she said with an amused tilt to her mouth.
"Yeah. I hate sand. And salt water. And I kinda hate sun, too."
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." She looked around, a crease between her brows. "Where's everybody else?"
"Around, I guess," Bobby said. "Jax and Clay are off dealin' with some club business. I think they took Happy and Miles with them. Prospects're at the warehouse." She had no idea what that meant, exactly, but she didn't ask. "Juice is in the office. Tryin' to clear all the porn viruses off the computer, he said."
She pulled a face. "I imagine fourteen months of neglect have done a number on it."
"Aye," Chibs said. "Between porn and you, Ollie, every computer in this place is a fuckin' mess."
"That could be taken a few different ways, and pretty much all of them make me want to smack you."
"Just leave the knuckles in your pocket and we'll have a go," he said with a grin.
"Maybe another time. I'm not really in the mood to peel your broken and bloody ass off the floor right now."
Bobby and Tig hooted, and Tig clapped her on the back hard enough to make her stumble. Chibs just threw back his head and laughed. It was an exchange typical of the last several months, and her quick wit and refusal (or maybe inability) to back down from a challenge never failed to tickle him.
"Hey," Tig said, "what's up with that?" He pointed at her left wrist, which no longer wore the black cuff they'd never seen her without.
"Oh," she said. She held out her arm for their inspection. "Chucky took up a collection after I rebuilt the hands Gemma bought him on Ebay."
"Anywhere else that sentence would make no fucking sense," Bobby said with a grunt.
The inside of her arm had been tattooed in bold, abstract splashes. Purple, fuchsia, turquoise, and orange billowed like ink dripped in water; scattered drops of dense black splashed as though a paintbrush had been flung at her skin. Tig rubbed his thumb over it and felt the raised scar tissue, but unless you knew where to look it was practically invisible.
Of the three only Chibs knew the story behind the scar, but it was obvious to anyone with half a brain what it was. Tig patted her arm with an awkward smile while Bobby cleared his throat and looked away.
"It looks great," Tig said. "Really suits you."
"Thanks." She pulled her arm back, still not completely comfortable with so much casual touching. "Saves a fuckton of tricky questions." Her eyebrows flicked upward and her head tilted as though she were waiting for them to ask, but neither of them did.
"Chucky mentioned you reworked those hands for him," Bobby said. "Just be careful, Ollie: the last thing we want is for him to go Robocop on us."
She grinned and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "No worries, Bobby. I'm keeping an eye on him." She glanced past them, toward the hall, and pushed away from the bar. "I think I'll go say hey to Juice before I have to get to the garage."
"Uh huh," Chibs said as the three of them exchanged a knowing look. "You do that, lass. We'll see you later."
"Shit," Tig said. "I'm supposed to be over there now."
She cast an amused glance back over her shoulder. "I hope the place hasn't fallen apart while I was gone."
"Nah," Bobby said. "I mean, there might've been one small fire. But it was very minor and Kozik got it put out in twenty, thirty minutes."
She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Thank God I know you're joking." The sound of their laughter followed her down the hall, and she could still hear it as she opened the office door.
Her half-formed greeting died on her lips and she stopped dead in her tracks. Images flashed dizzily as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing: Juice, his pants around his ankles. Dana, on her knees with his cock in her mouth.
Olivia let out a strangled gasp and her hand shot up to cover her eyes. "Fuck, shit, sorry! I should have—clearly I should've knocked!"
She stumbled back into the hall even as Juice pulled away and started yanking his pants up.
"Wait," he said, "fuck, Ollie, hang on—"
Ollie. Since when did he call her Ollie?
I guess since Dana started blowing him in the office, she thought with a grimace.
"Ha, no. I think I've seen enough," she said aloud.
"You can join us if you want," Dana said, her mouth curved in a smirk.
"Tempting," Olivia said in a jagged voice, "but no thanks. Maybe another time. In Hell. After the snowball fight." She spun away and slammed the door behind her.
"Ollie, stop!" Juice called. He rushed after her, his pants fisted in his hand as he tried to keep them up.
She ignored him and practically ran through the clubhouse. She didn't notice Chibs as he stood at the bar, and when he opened his mouth to speak to her she kept walking. The door shut hard, the window in it rattling from the force, and he stared at it in consternation.
"Fuck," Juice said as he stumbled out of the hallway.
Chibs' head pivoted his way, and his expression hardened as Dana sauntered up behind him and thew an arm over his shoulder.
"Don't worry about her, baby," she said. "She'll get over it."
Chibs shook his head in disbelief. "You, Juice Ortiz," he said, "are maybe the stupidest fucker to ever walk this planet, and that's sayin' something."
He shrugged Dana off and scraped both hands over his head. "Yeah, Chibs," he said, his tone resigned. "Fuckin' well tell me about it."

It had been three days since Olivia walked in on Juice and Dana, and thus far they'd been able to avoid each other completely. They'd been helped considerably by the new Sanwa sheriff and his band of vandals. They'd wrecked everything—even the garage—and she'd been too busy putting things to rights (And yelling. There had been a lot of yelling.) to waste time in the clubhouse.
Somehow, though, Juice now found himself in Gemma's office. All the computers in the clubhouse had been smashed, but this one had been mysteriously spared. He had new ones on order (he actually had to admit that was the one bright spot in the whole sorry mess), but in the meantime he had to make do. He had closed the blinds so no one would see him, and he was nearly done when the door opened.
Olivia stood backlit by the sunlight pouring in the from the bay doors, but her back was to him and she hadn't seen him yet. Her hair glowed like a corona, and for just a moment he felt his entire body go hot, like a split second flame from scalp to feet.
"What did he get?" she asked someone in the garage.
Juice cast a glance at the other door, the one that led out into the parking lot, and rose gingerly from his chair. Maybe if he were very quiet…
"A new carburetor," he heard Piney say. "You need me to spell that for you, sweetheart?"
He was almost there. Two more steps.
"Bite me, you sexist old bastard."
Piney choked and wheezed as he laughed, and just as Juice's hand touched the doorknob, she turned into the room. They both froze. Juice stared at her, wide-eyed. Her mouth quirked in an ironic moue.
"Well," she said.
"We keep meeting like this," he said, trying and dismally failing to make a joke of it.
"We sure do." She closed the door behind her. "At least this time your dick's not in anyone's mouth."
He winced and looked away.
She moved to the desk and frowned down at the computer. "I have to type up these invoices. Is it okay to use this?"
"Oh, yeah. It's just running a virus scan. It can do that in the background."
"Great," she said. She cut her eyes toward him as she waited for the program to load. "Don't let me keep you. I imagine Dana doesn't like you out of her sight for very long."
He gritted his teeth. "It wasn't what you think."
"Please," she said with a snort. "She wasn't sucking your dick? Or she was, but it was for…I don't know, medical reasons? You got a prescription for blowjobs?"
"Jesus Christ, Ollie—"
"Stop calling me that!" she cried and slammed her hand on the desk.
"It's your name, isn't it?" he said, his face twisting.
She turned her head away, and when she spoke her voice was rough. "Not when you say it," she said.
He blinked, startled. "I thought everyone—"
"Not you."
"I didn't know it was that important."
"Right," she said and tossed her head. When she finally looked at him her eyes were red, her cheeks flushed. "I could hire a fucking skywriter and I still don't think you'd know what was important to me."
He surged toward her, his own anger flaring. "Maybe you should hire a skywriter, Olivia, because I can't keep up with you. I was gone for over a year and you didn't come visit. You didn't write. I finally get home and you're not even here. You'd gone on vacation. What, that was the only week in the last two goddamn years you could get away?!"
"I wasn't ready!" she cried. She swiped a hand across her face and squared her jaw. "I thought I had time. I kept thinking—and then next thing I knew—and I wasn't ready. I didn't know what to say or how to act, and I just needed a little more time."
"So you ran," he said and crossed his arms.
"I came back," she said. "I came back, and I looked for you, and when I found you—" She threw her hand out in frustration.
"How was I supposed to know you were coming back? For all I knew you were gone. That's your pattern, isn't it?"
"Oh fuck you, Ortiz. Fuck you for thinking you have that much impact on my life. A lot's changed while you were gone, so don't come strutting back in here thinking you know all my fucking secrets. You don't have a clue."
The muscles in his jaw danced and his eyes were bright as he clenched his hands around his biceps. "I can see that," he said. He jerked his chin toward her wrist. "You get that for your new girlfriend?"
"What?" she said, astounded. "Is that what this is about? Kitty? We broke up three months ago!"
He glowered down at his boots. "Nobody told me that."
"Maybe because my love life is none of your fucking business."
"But mine's yours?" he demanded.
"It sort of becomes my business when it's shoved in my face."
"I'm sorry, Olivia, okay? I never meant for you—"
"Of course you didn't." Her hand lifted in a tired shrug. "But I did."
She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "We're a disaster, Juice. You and me. All we ever do is fuck up. We just keep smashing against each other, and I don't think we're ever—" She broke off with a quick shake of her head.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and pressed his lips together in a thin line. His throat worked as he tried to speak, and he had to stop to clear it. "What happened—with you and Kitty?" he finally managed.
A small, humorless smile. "Not much. Nothing dramatic. She just got tired of the competition."
His eyes snapped to her. "Who—?"
The door flew open as Gemma burst in. "There you are!" she said to Olivia. "I've been looking everywhere."
Olivia turned her head and ran a hand over her face. When she looked back she had managed to drudge up a smile from somewhere. "I've been right here, Gem. What's up?"
Gemma's eyes narrowed as she glanced from Olivia to Juice and back again. "Everything okay in here?"
"Perfect," Juice said. "I just finished up with the computer and was on my way out when Ollie came in. Good to see you," he said to her, his tone formal and polite, like they were strangers.
"Yeah, Juice," she said, her voice tight. "You too."
He nodded at Gemma and fled. She waited until the door closed behind him to cross her arms and turn a gimlet eye on Olivia. It was a look she knew well, and it took all of her composure not to squirm.
"You gonna tell me what just happened?" Gemma said.
"I wasn't really planning on it."
Gemma moved closer. Olivia tried to ignore her, but it was impossible. At last she sighed and turned to face her. "What, Gemma?"
"I heard about the other day."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please," Gemma said. She eyed Olivia up and down a moment. Crossed her arms again and propped her hip on the desk. "Dana is a ladder-climbing whore, and I'm about two minutes from kicking her bony ass out on the street."
She shrugged a shoulder and shuffled some papers. "No reason to do that. She's just doing what's she's here to do. Eat crow."
Gemma rolled her eyes and let her arms fall to her sides. "You and that boy just need to fuck and get it over with."
Olivia's mouth twisted. "I think that's the last thing we need, actually." She dropped the sheets onto the desk and finally met Gemma's eyes. "You said you were looking for me?"
"Yeah," she said drawing the syllable out. She regarded Olivia with an inscrutable expression before she waved a hand. "Clay wants you to take a look at some of the damage that sheriff did the other day. He saw the toy box you made for Abel and Thomas—"
"I didn't make it. I found it and refinished it."
She dismissed that with a flick of her fingers. "Just head over there and check out the table, Ollie. It'll shut him up about it."
She hesitated. Shifted her weight and cast a quick glance toward the garage. "Yeah, okay," she said at last. "I can at least take a look."
She scooted around the desk and was reaching for the door when Gemma's voice stopped her.
"Love ain't ever easy, baby girl," she said. "If it is you're not doin' it right."
Her shoulders went stiff. She looked back, a line between her brows. "Who said anything about love?"
Gemma smirked. "Not a soul, sweetheart."
"Right," she said, doubtfully. With one last confused glance, she opened the door and stepped out into the lot.

This story is actually complete at this point; I'm just being really lazy about posting it. :) I'd love some reviews if you're reading. :)
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Come With Me Tonight