A/N: The things I do for Liz. This is for you... Baby. ;)

Lingering in the doorway of the office, Gemma stared out toward the empty, poorly lit street. The garage had closed for the night hours ago, but she had lingered, busying herself with the books, organizing old receipts, anything to keep her focus. Her boys had yet to come home; Jax, Clay, Tig, Opie and the others had left hours ago to 'take care of some business.' After over twenty years, she thought the nervous irritability would have dissipated, that she had moved past snapping at the mechanics and Prospects left behind.

Apparently not.

Sighing dejectedly, Gemma turned to slip quietly into the office once more. The faint yet unmistakeable rumble of four, five, six engines stopped her closing the door; the noise crescendoed, drawing nearer, accelerating her heart beat each second until the Sons pulled into the lot, now little more than twenty feet away. The sound of the engines vibrated within her chest as relief flooded her veins, for she counted the same number of men returning as had left. It was far too dark to hope to discern whether or not the boys were injured, however; the muted yellow light cast by the floodlights did nothing more than reflect eerily off the black fenders of the closest bikes. As the engines were cut, a low rumble of men's voices began, but was silenced by the closing of the Clubhouse door. Gemma frowned, dark eyebrows knitting together for a moment before she disappeared into the small office again.

The door of the office opened and closed, but she had long since grown bored of those particular walls. She was crouched by a bike Opie and Jax has been commissioned to build. Gemma knew little about the mechanics of a bike, but turning the wrench – blackened with grease – over in her hands gave them a trivial occupation. Footsteps stopped a few paces back, but she recognized the slow, scuffing noise unequivocally.

"The boys alright?"

"'Couple'a bruises and broken knuckles. Nothing that won't heal up."

At this, Gemma slowly straightened, running her fingertips over the cool metal, but she still didn't turn. Being ignored as they'd come home had set her jaw; had she not earned the right to be acknowledged? She was no Prospect; she was the queen of the Sons, Clay's left hand and comfort – Jax's mother. How could he not at the very least let her know that her family was safe, whole?

"And you?" she questioned after a moment, her tone low, and with a slight edge.

Clay closed the distance between them, placing his hand comfortably on her hip. "Nothing my old lady can't handle," he murmured against her ear. His hands skimmed along her curves, the slow, soothing touch dissolving the desire to pick a fight, and igniting that familiar flame.

"What else can your old lady-" Gemma tilted her head back against his shoulder, biting at his earlobe and breathing softly against it, "...handle?"

As she had expected, Clay turned her toward him, kissing her firmly, drawing her closer to him. She slid her arms around his neck as he lifted her onto the nearly completed bike, her legs naturally hugging his waist. Her jacket hit the floor, and he struggled with the buttons of her shirt for a moment before she broke the kiss and bit his lip as she pulled back, holding his gaze as she popped each button, purposefully teasing him. He reached for the button of her jeans even before she shrugged the blouse to the floor with her jacket.

"Did you lock up?"

"Maybe they'll join us," she offered, her head falling back as she laughed at the unamused expression on his face. Her laughter faded as he kissed along her throat, scruff brushing against her skin.

Swallowing softly, she moved her hand to the back of his head, holding his lips to her neck. She had noticed the dried blood on his cheek, noticed how he flexed his fingers and the tension in his jaw. He was in far more pain than he would ever admit, and it was her responsibility – as with any good old lady – not to question, but to do anything in her power to ease that pain. If fucking in the garage was his therapy of choice, she certainly would not complain.

He kissed up her throat and along her jaw until he met her lips again, and she drew him deeper into the kiss before reaching for the button of his jeans. Pushing them past his hips, Gemma slid her hand into his boxers, stroking him lightly, teasingly.

"Damn, baby..." he groaned softly, dropping his head to her shoulder.

She continued for a time, shushing him softly as she upped the tempo and pressure. Then he cupped his hand against her, and she bit her lip and slid her hand to the back of his neck once more.

Rolling his thumb against her clit through her panties gently, he drew her lips to his and kissed her again, nipping her lower lip firmly. Gemma moaned frustratedly against his lips, reaching to push his boxers to the floor. "When did you get into love making?" she growled faintly, "Fuck me, Clay."

He lifted her off the bike, pressing her back against the nearest wall. She kissed him more fiercely than before, as if challenging him; her nails bit into his skin as he pushed into her and she bit his lower lip. Gemma had never been one to be vocal in bed – or in this case, the garage – so he relied on her breathing and sparse commands. "Harder," she breathed, tipping her head back and arching toward the wall as he complied, the hand at her hip tightening its grip. She pulled his head to hers again, kissing him more heatedly. Clay's hand reached for a more stable grip, knocking various tools and parts to the floor in his haste. She broke the kiss and met his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily, before she tipped her head back and bit her lip again, groaning softly in her throat. And he lost it.

Clay rested his forehead against her shoulder, catching his own breath, before he set her back on her feet. He lifted his head to look at her and she laughed, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him softly. He couldn't help but smile as she pulled away again, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"What?" he questioned, a faint hint of amusement in his tone.

Gemma shook her head, tilting it to the side slightly. "I love you, baby," she said simply after a moment.

He smirked, kissing her lips lightly, lingering as he murmured, "Love you too, Gem."