Drowned myself in the tragically beautiful Jax & Tara vids today. My usual flow is angst but I needed something a bit lighter for my pretties this go round. Never actually been to Pixie Woods, I just got a few reference points from a clip. So no offense if you've been there and the sequence is out of order. As always, thanks for reading.

Occurs in the few weeks gap between Season 4 and Season 5.

"It's not a good idea, Babe," Jax gritted out. The tone heavy laden with regret but things were not good. So epically not good that it made the tragedy of the Titanic sinking look like it was just one of Abel's waterlogged bath toys.

Instantly, Tara's face went blank but her eyes didn't lie. They never did. Not with him.

His woman wanted this. Needed this. Needed her man to step up for his family, for her, right now in the only way that he could. She just wasn't certain that he would.

Jax was a man—her man—so he needed to give that to her.

Wanted to give her so much more, he always had. That's why he'd sacrificed all those years ago, set the girl he'd pulled into his biking sphere free, when his crow had flown far from her Charming coop.

They were long past that now, Tara had come back to him. Stayed with her man. Handed Jax back all the grace and love, the tranquil unity derived from their bond, that had been glaringly missing from his life. Given Jax back the meaning to his whole fucking world—a family—with her.

The promise of a beautiful life he'd do anything to protect. Even this.

Roughly, Jax raked his hand down his face like he could quickly relieve himself of his weary burdens with just the final tug of the whiskers at his chin.

He couldn't. His life was too dangerously complicated for that but he could do this one simple thing for his woman.

With a deep sigh, Jax stepped away from his front door. Pushed back from the heavy duties that awaited him over that threshold and moved toward the cozy warmth of their kitchen at sunrise, "What do you need me to do?"

Tara hesitated—almost afraid to hope—her brows drew together in question, "Really?"

Gently, Jax pulled her hands into the calloused cloister of his. He slowly brushed his fingers over hers, played with all the soft skin he could reach outside of the ugly plaster cast. It was a blatant reminder of the damage his family—his woman—had sustained. Made him realize that he needed the healing balm of something normal, not just retaliation, as much as his woman.

Gruffly, he nodded, "Yeah."

"I want to pack a lunch," Tara's voice wavered but her courage was resolute. "Head over to Pixie Woods a little before noon."

"Stockton," Jax rumbled back. Not liking the location at all. Not with the threat of Niner retribution hanging over their collective heads like a guillotine in an outlaw revolution.

"It won't be anything big," Tara placated. "Just us and the boys. Nothing to draw attention."

He tried not to let the worry—the tragedy that had befallen them during their last family outing—sway his opinion. He couldn't. He wanted his family close to home. Happy but safe. It also didn't escape him that Tara hadn't included Gemma in this little family soirée. Not that his mother's absence would bother him much.

"We should pick something closer. Scoops on Main," Jax declared with a subtle grin. "Keep it easy. In Charming. Abel loves the pool table at…"

"We are not going to celebrate our son's third birthday at the clubhouse, Jax," Tara cried back incredulously then leveled. "He likes the splash dragon."

There was force there, an unspoken demand, underlying his woman's last words. One that a man would be wise to take notice of and Jax was certainly no fool. That park meant something special to his woman, it always had.

Jax's gaze caught hers, "Didn't know Abel had spent much time there."

A pang of longing slashed across the muted pain now hardening Tara's ivory features, "Took him there to settle down after visits."

After recent visits to him in prison. Following ancient visits to her mother at the cancer center. And that last visit for her ninth birthday party when her mother hadn't been well enough to make it. So many damn visits that had caused his woman worry or pain. And too few that had given her any real joy or pleasure. Just the one where she'd fully given Jax all of her for the first time.

"I like that place," Jax affirmed with more than a hint of understanding and charm. "It is a local landmark."

The sad glow of remembrance in her gaze turned soft, melted by the nostalgic fire of something else entirely when Tara's hazel eyes turned a brilliant, sultry, green. She gave him that heated look for a beat before she slyly agreed, "It is where you landed me, Teller."

He was done. With the conversation. With any distance between.

Swiftly, he pulled Tara flush against him, her lush curves willingly molded to him from chest to pelvis—utter perfection.

"Give me a kiss," Jax's gravelly voice dipped even lower, the sexy tone slipping straight down to meet the hungry answer of her lips.

God, she tasted fantastic. She always had. A clean wisp of reckless freedom in a serene little bottle. One he needed to sip…

…savor…

…devour…

One greedy bite at a time.

Still mating her mouth, wet and fierce, Jax turned her back toward the counter. Then, without warning, planted her ass on it. Eagerly swallowed her surprised 'Oomph' right along with her agile tongue. Instantly, her legs wound around his hips in burning welcome. He cupped her jaw to reward her with a deeper penetration as the other hand quickly slid down her back to squeeze her possessively, right over his brand.

That earned him a whimper, a sweet little cry of helpless surrender, as she pressed her heat tighter against his dick.

Fuck, yes.

His woman was giving over.

To him.

To them.

To their connection.

That made his dick, already hard, even harder.

Always had. Always would.

It was everything he needed when his woman roughly tangled her good hand in his short hair to burrow deeper into his lusty embrace. She got lost in the sexy cadence humming between them, so strong, so hot. So needy.

He drew it out, deliciously edged them closer, shamelessly sucked up his woman's breathless ardor. He never wanted the beauty of her elemental need for him to end.

"Jax," his woman keened.

Her cry so devilishly sweet on his tongue—it never failed to satiate his soul—even as it turned his dick into a ravenous monster.

"Babe, gonna fuck you," he pushed.

"Yes," she moaned instantly. "Bedroom."

Christ.

She was already gone.

Got off on his mouth, his kisses, in a way that would make any man stand a bit taller, prouder, firmer.

A man like him.

Jesus.

It was everything.

She was everything.

Raggedly, he breathed, "I've got you, Babe."

Then, abruptly, he swept her off the counter, hands planted firmly under her ass. His woman clung to him, a grasping vine of feminine need, as he rushed them down the hall toward the privacy of their room.

Her tits, more lush since having Thomas, swelled out of her tank. Even better, that delectable cleavage smushed up and down against the rough cut on his chest with each step. An added bonus, once he finished with her mouth, he couldn't wait to suck on her…

"Daddy," Abel's groggy little voice resounded like a foreboding thunderclap in the narrow hallway.

No.

Fuck.

Fuck, no.

Jax broke the carnal nature of the kiss but not the connection of their mouths. He felt more than heard his woman's shattered expletive. His lips barely moved from hers, his words another form of intimate caress when he desperately pled, "Bribe him, Babe. Cookies for breakfast."

His woman's thick lashes tickled his cheek as she closed them in stark frustration. Finally, she sighed out with maternal defeat, "Can't since you showed him how to dunk them. He needs someone to pour the milk."

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

He'd offer to pour the stuff but that would mean he'd have to take his hands off of Tara's luscious ass that much sooner. His hands didn't want to. His dick really didn't want him to. His fatherly duty ultimately compelled him to when he heard the first bout of sniffles coming from the nursery.

Thomas had woken up.

Soon both of his boys would be clamoring for his woman's attention. Just like his dick.

"Sorry," Tara's soft voice offered small comfort when her curves finally slipped down his hard length in such an atrociously clothed fashion.

Damn.

Jax grunted as her feet hit the floor. Annoyed that Tara's body could so easily camouflage her desire. In consolation, she gingerly bumped noses with him as was their way. "Gemma will probably be here soon anyway."

"Babe, not helping," Jax muttered sarcastically.

Though it did. Spectacularly.

"You get Thomas," Jax nodded with a conceding grin. "I'll get the monster."

"Okay, Baby," Tara softly agreed. Her steps so fluid, light, graceful—it was like his woman floated away. A goddess naturally ruling their domestic realm.

This. These moments. Right now. This was living.

These were smooth stretches of heaven right here on earth. The type of future he wanted for his boys with their mother.

Gladly, Jax sauntered toward his oldest progeny. He was a toe headed bundle of innocent mischief but not mayhem. The way it should be. With an easy chuckle, Jax scooped up his boy, "Hear we're having a little Monster Splash for your big day!"

Giggles, pure and unrefined, flooded his home like they were the unrepentant soundtrack to a cheesy Disney flick. Surprisingly, all it did was make him crave another serving of the wholesome goodness.

He'd get it too. Right after he dealt with the flip side of his biker lifestyle—the seedy tails of Clay's betrayal—that Jax couldn't ignore altogether. Not and live.

His woman was exposed.

His boys were vulnerable.

His family was completely unaware that they were surrounded by a blood thirsty bunch of criminals—the protective circle of his brotherhood.

Normally, that would only be a minor detail. Given the current tenor of revenge rolling gangster style out of Oaktown; it was a major faux pas on his woman's part. He'd definitely be having a word about this. Probably more than one.

That word was suddenly drowned out by the squeal of his name as Abel's wet body ran pell-mell into him. Between the sunblock and the water, his boy was more slippery than one of Gemma's lies when Jax swung him up into his arms.

"Hey, Buddy," he greeted his little man. "Having fun?"

Youthful exuberance was the message of his son's gibber jabber all wrapped up in Jax's arms like his cut was the boy's personal beach towel. All too soon, Abel was wiggling like those annoying ass Aussie's from the kid's show looking to get back to the splash pad that rained down water from the spiraling carcass of a dragon.

Tara rose from the bench to meet him, surprised at his actual arrival, though his woman shouldn't be.

"Sit down," Jax bit off. "I need to talk to you."

His woman was nervous, confused at his demeanor, as she should be when he pulled Thomas from the cradle of her arms. Shakily, his woman dropped back to the bench and anxiously looked around them trying to understand what was going on from the brotherhood now readily showing themselves.

"You took my boys," he crossly stated the obvious. His youngest struggled to settle into the crook of his neck as Jax plunked down on the bench near his woman.

It was then Jax read the obstinate look in her eyes that turned her features to a hardened page.

"This is the first time that Abel has had fun in days," Tara stubbornly rebutted all too ready to argue her corner. "He wasn't missing it."

"You were supposed to wait for me," Jax cut her off.

"I did," she evenly defended.

"Really," he acerbically questioned since his woman had obviously arrived at the park without him.

"Yes," Tara easily jabbed back. "Abel was so excited he had ants in his pants. Then I saw Bobby and Juice pull up outside the house in the van and knew they'd tag along," she finally lowered the boom. "That you'd sent them to trail me without telling me."

Damn.

She was sharp, his woman, as she leveled his anger, "Baby, I'd never do anything to hurt them."

Jax knew that without question. Problem was—his woman didn't have a proverbial superhero cape hiding under her surgical scrubs and the bad guys after them weren't comic book buffoons—their enemies were straight up killers. When their boys were with her, Tara's expertly trained hands were full of their babies and not firepower. That needed to change, his voice was gritty as he issued what was more edict than apology, "I want you carrying."

"Okay, Baby," his woman acquiesced seemingly without batting an eye like she'd been born to the Old Lady lifestyle.

Tara hadn't. His woman had just been a very apt apprentice under the heavy guidance of his mother's hand. Until recently. When his woman had ascended to the charter's throne right along with his change in patch and his mother plumb forgot to hide her fucking crazy.

It wasn't lost on Jax that Gemma hadn't showed at the house this morning or been invited to this intimate shindig for the birthday boy either. Figured his mother was sleeping off another bender somewhere thinking she was successfully pulling the wool. She wasn't. It was just as well, though, Jax didn't want the dark specter of Gemma's looming presence to further mar his good day. He already had far too few of those.

He stared at his woman for a long moment. Hoping his surliness hadn't fucked his limited time with them up. Then he finally saw it build. Saw that smile slowly dawn—the one that spilled all the joy in the whole fucking world all over him—just from Abel's frolicking antics.

Finally, Jax grabbed a slice of that goodness for himself.

He soaked in that the overhead sun drenched Abel right along with the cooling water, felt his youngest's chubby fingers smear drool through his whiskers, heard the steady breathing of his woman who'd scooted even closer beside him, smelled the dank water of the nearby lagoon and—breathed.

Deep.

A lungful of peace and goodness that tasted so sweet it could give him a fucking cavity.

"Get off me," his woman laughed as she tried to shy away from him. "You're all wet."

"So," Jax smacked the word against her lips with a playful kiss. His grip tightened on her hip and he pushed, "You started it."

And, she had.

His woman had turned the water cannons mounted over the lagoon on him first. She'd used Abel as her excuse to repeat history but it was all her—the unexpected bit of mischief that triggered his brothers to join in the soggy reverie.

Now, the rowdy murmurs of his guys— trading insults, jabs, and the general din of brotherly camaraderie—became just background filler when his woman's silky tongue darted out to find its mate.

Instantly, their little smooch went from innocent to wicked as all hell. The flood of hot wet, his woman laid on him had his dick jumping.

Again.

Hungry noises, grasping hands, sleek pressure, his woman's nipples hard and damp from his soaked tee. Honeyed taste, slender limbs wound tight, her demanding little...

"Jackie Boy," Chibs boomed out a warning amid the hoots of his men, "little eyes are not a smilin'."

Christ.

Not again.

"Babe," Jax grunted out as he eased back. Then he caught his woman's dazed expression.

He grinned wide, broader still, enjoying the shit out of her needy haze until cloudy green turned sharp. Artfully, she excused, "Had to rinse Abel's Crush off."

Slowly, his woman toyed with his whiskers along with her explanation, the soft pad of her finger finally floated across his lips just daring him to call her out. When his woman bullshitted, "Purple's not really your color."

"Yeah," he nodded back at her clever ruse. His steady gaze letting his woman know that she was busted. "And who was it that shook the can before I popped it?"

Overtly, his woman blew her sham, "Happy."

Yeah, right. They both knew her game.

"Hey, Boss," Tig called interrupting their teasing little face off. "Thomas needs Doc."

"We'll finish this conversation later," Jax promised with raised brows and a slow lick of his lips that told his woman just how that conversation would happen, horizontally, while he tipped her ass up to say hello to his dick.

He watched with near envy as his boys twined right around his woman once she was in their clutches. Thomas cradled in one arm and Abel wrapped in the other—both stuck to her maternal presence like glue—as she helped the birthday boy feed his baby brother.

It was a sweet moment of brotherly love before everyone heard the baby let a ghastly one rip—wet and juicy.

"Mother of Christ," Chibs exclaimed. "What was that?"

"Boy's got an ass like Piney," Juice mumbled.

Jax lost track of the comments after that, his brothers had pulled back, cleared out to get away from the rank aroma. He'd lingered, missing the deceased original that had been his truest living connection to his father. Missed Op as well. Could almost hear his pal griping about his father's bathroom habits right along with the guys but not quite—nobody had Op's brand of frank humor and grounded timing.

Hopefully, they'd do Piney's memorial soon and that would draw the younger Winston back to the table.

Until then, he had shit to deal with. Literally.

"Jesus," Jax exhaled, "this place has become a shithole."

"Yeah," his woman smiled uncannily like that somehow made the park all the more enchanting to her. Then drolly, she quipped, "Kind of like the clubhouse."

"Careful, Babe," Jax cautioned.

All his brothers were piled into row upon row of the small seats of the train. Luckily, their rowdy group was the only passengers this go round. Their rough look and raucous banter enough to dissuade any of the other families from boarding along with them. That was just fine with Jax especially as they passed over the rainbow bridge that reminded him sourly of his own village of leprechaun's and their tainted pot of guns.

Fortunately, they came up on the old pavilion. It was Alice in Wonderland themed but it had certainly seen better days. There was nothing picture perfect or vivid technicolor about that venue but it didn't stop another group from celebrating.

"Doc," Chibs jerked his chin toward the festivity. "Why didn't you go for Hostess with the Mostess?"

His woman snorted.

"I don't really lead a Pinterest lifestyle," soft laughter underscored her screwed up answer.

Smartly, Bobby cracked, "A Pin-her-ass to, what?"

"Jackie's got that well in hand," Chibs deadpanned, reminding everyone that he'd left wet handprints on his woman's ass earlier.

"Shit," Juice mumbled. "Is that dwarf mooning the tree?"

"They're Pixie's, you idiot," Jax stated. Not answering the rest because anyone with eyes could see that the washed out gnome really did look like it was bent over flashing both cheeks

"Gotta admit," Tig bizarrely turned his head sideways to look at the prone figure. "It's kind of making me hard."

That freakiness didn't surprise him. Juice's silence, however, did. That guy was really making him nervous lately. It wasn't the time to take issue with it, yet.

Instead, Jax warned, "Tig."

"Sorry, Boss," the man who wasn't afraid to cold pack waved toward the boys. "Won't happen again."

Wisely, his woman had let the guys spout their off-colored remarks. Focusing instead on pointing out the more positive aspects of this little expedition. He didn't think there were many and that was before they entered that creepy little tunnel. Nobody was mining anything but nightmares out of that mural.

Jesus.

Jax couldn't wait to get back to the depot and finally get off this crazy train. That wasn't a joke, there was something really warped about that shit.

Just as they were pulling back in, he felt the grip of tension collectively fall over his group.

"Boss," Happy clipped.

Yeah, he saw it. A real flash of purple. Right there on the platform.

Christ. Shit. Fuck. God fucking damn it.

There was no time for long explanations as he told his woman, "Tara, take the boys. Juice and Bobby will go with you."

"The rest of you with me," Jax growled.

Briefly, his woman's eyes flared out in fear. Then, just as swiftly, she reigned that shit back in and nodded her grave understanding. Her hold on their boys becoming an impenetrable shield of loving defense.

There was no time for anything else but a quick peck of farewell.

Jax pulled his weapon as his brothers spilled out of the train behind him in two groups. Whether they were at his back or his woman's, they were all Sons hell bent on protecting both of his families.

Hastily, Jax scanned the area.

This Niner was a loner. Made this situation either easy pickins' or the most deadly situation of all—not much in between.

Chibs, Happy, and Tig fanned out ready for whatever was about to jump off. Instead, Jax decided to be proactive in dealing with this threat.

Jax extended his offer—that everyone walks away and forgets—a mutual case of amnesia. Unfortunately, the lowly Niner wasn't far enough up the banger food chain to have learned the value of taking a beat and thinking shit through. Instead, the young gun had balked.

Jax clocked him. Problem solved.

"Jesus, Jax," his woman exhaled after seeing the small specks of blood splattered on his white tee. "At a children's story land?"

"Hey, I'm all about the fairytale, Babe," he smirked—the darker side.

Tara might sand his edges down a bit and polish him up to a certain level of respectability but he was a man—a brother—who needed to do this shit.

And for better or worse, she was a woman soon to be hitched to an outlaw. His woman got him in ways that even he didn't fully understand yet. So she gave him that.

Without qualm, his woman moved on.

She did this easily. Even if it was to a taboo hot button.

"Gemma called. We need to head over to the community garden," his woman nodded to their boys still lingering with his crew. "Abel wants a snow cone before we leave. I'm going to snag some cotton candy for the car."

His woman started to move, then stopped, "Thomas had another blowout. He's got shit all up his back." Then his woman nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. "Left him with Juice."

Yes, he was a man all about the fairytale—the one that breathed real life back into his world as she wove their fingers together—he always would be.