A/N Thank you again for the wonderful reviews!
Disclaimer…Oh how I own nothing at all!
The cool early-summer evening air felt relieving on Dixie's skin. The entire day had been her and Maggie chasing down kids and making them stay while their parents visited with the other Chapters. Dixie's long hair was stuffed up high on her head, her entire body aching, and her mouth parched for something that tasted like beer. Maggie looked almost ethereal and glowy from the activity but her eyes drooped with fatigue.
It was important for Jax and Tara and the others to mingle, to make with the friendship and comrade between the chapters. It was after all, a family run. Despite that most of the stuff that was going on wasn't friendly for kids. Dixie caught the boys spying on a few of the Tacoma sweet-butts getting dressed behind the trees. After they were sent to bed Dixie wandered around looking for a place to crash. Mainly looking for Tig. Her back ached and she felt lethargic and sluggish. All she wanted to do was to curl up on his lap, with a beer, and fuck around until she fell asleep.
Dixie eventually found a group of cuts around a campfire smoking joints and getting drunk. They were mingled in with from different chapters. Tig was among them but from the distance she was at she saw a strange slut wrapped up around him, cooing into his ear. She stopped still for a moment and froze. Dixie was damn tired. The limbo, the questions, the..everything…that she had been experiencing with Tig were just too much. She had every intention of leaving to find a tent to curl up in when he looked up and saw her.
Promptly the slut was shoved off his lap. She stumbled away, cussing, as the others just chuckled or ignored her. Tig looked at Dixie and when she didn't move (mostly because her legs and arms felt like they were falling off) he waved her over with impatience. Dixie did exactly what she had been wanting to do. She grabbed a beer and curled up around him. Tig kissed her neck firmly and his arm pressed her against his body. She curled up even tighter and found herself fighting sleep.
"Shit…not getting laid now…" He muttered into her ear.
"Kids ran around all fucking day." She muttered back, her eyes drooping.
He stood up and grabbed her before she fell to the ground. Dixie shook herself awake and precariously stopped her beer from spilling.
"Catch ya later, brothers." He said to the other Sons. Though it was blurry she remembered him taking to their tent where they had some form of sex, but she was far too tired to remember. When he held her, he always held her like she was a doll. His arm tugging around her waist squeezing her to him. Sometimes she woke up because he was tightening his grip during sleep and she couldn't breathe. She woke up several times that night to the feeling of his iron-strong arm clamping around her stomach.
The next morning the sound of people talking woke her up. She rolled over and saw Tig laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the small orange tent. Dixie rubbed the sleepiness out of her sluggish eyes and arched her back with a yawn. Tig's eyes shifted over to her and he rolled over onto his side, facing her.
"The Tacoma's VP's Old Lady does tats." He said to her. "She brought her ink shit with her."
Tattoos. Dixie had a few -her parent's initials on her wrist, a thorn rose on her ass, and a star on her ankle. She wondered what sort of tattoo he was considering of getting but it was far too early in her brain think on it.
"She does all the crows for the Tacoma Old Ladies." Tig continued. "She said she'd do yours, no cost."
Just like that.
It was beyond simple. The build-up and the careful waltzing she had done around the issue. She had been preparing herself for confronting him about it. And here was Tig five steps ahead of her and like it was the most natural thing in the world. He wrapped his hand around her tangled, brown hair and squeezed softly. His eyes drifted to her cleavage.
"Put it on your rack. Left tit…" He drawled. Tig leaned forward to press him mouth to the spot he was talking about it but Dixie stopped him. He had to know….he just had to know what this meant for her.
"Tig…say it." She pressed. Dixie's eyes were wide, her chest felt like she was going to explode, and her body was wired tightly with attention.
He smirked but his eyes were so very serious. "You wanna be my Old Lady, Dixie?"
"Yea. I do." She replied nodding.
Her heart expanded until it hurt almost violently. Dixie felt something in her brain release and maybe it was a wall that she had kept up but whatever it was…she felt released. Something had broken inside of her and now she was okay. She could breathe just a little more.
There were no tears or undying words of devotion. Instead, Dixie straddled him and stuck her tongue down his throat. He groaned against her and pulled them closer together. They weren't exactly quiet but they didn't care. She wanted them to hear them, to know that she was his and he was hers.
They made no formal announcement. It was something that Dixie felt was just for SAMCRO's ears if it was announced. But, she knew when she showed up with that crow on her chest that it'd be out there for everyone to see. Dixie didn't want Maggie to know or anyone else because she wanted to do it in private without any other eyes but hers, the artist, and Tig.
Tig didn't grab her for the tattoo until late that evening. She spent the day trying to wrangle the kids into order but she didn't get tired. Her mind was somewhere else. Something that Maggie asked about but she didn't share.
The night was cool just like the night before. The Old Lady's name was Linda and she was a thin, blonde with strong, artistic hands. Linda set her up stuff in her Old Man's big tent and shooed everyone out. Dixie lay down on the cot that they had brought along with Tig sitting in a lawn chair to the side, drinking a beer and watching.
"Where you want this, baby?" Linda asked after showing her a few crows she had sketched out.
"Here." She placed her hand over her left boob, high enough for it to be seen with what she was wearing.
"Good place." Linda commented helping her strip off her top and bra.
It didn't actually hurt. The tattoo was just a little bit of continuous pain. Blood trickled out but Linda expertly swiped it away as she etched and engraved the ink into Dixie's bare skin. Dixie looked up at the top of the tent, staring up as the crow was put onto her skin. She wondered how this would change.
She wondered what her parents thought of her. It was strange. Dixie used to think about them so often. Every turn in Charming – everything – reminded her of them. But when the past few months since she had become tied to Tig she had thought less about them. Would they be proud of her? Was this the life they had wanted for her?
Dixie's parents had been the reason she had come back to Charming. They had loved her but they hadn't given her much. Dixie had been haunted by that simple fact for a long time. But what they had given her she had held dear, had tried to honor that. Gazing up at the ceiling of a tent as a crow was being inked on her skin made her realize that what they had given her had propelled her to this moment. They hadn't given her much but they had brought her back to Charming. They had given her the ability and virtue of loyalty and honesty. Both virtues she had tried to live up to and it was this that had kept her alive through the shadowed part of her life. Dixie didn't hold much for morality and virtues. But loyalty and honesty was sort of her thing. She had no qualms with lying. But she as a person was a honest, loyal person.
There was no doubt in her mind that her honesty and loyalty belonged right where she was at this moment. It didn't matter what her parents actually thought or if they were watching her with disappointment. Not to Dixie. Because, as she looked over to the man she loved she knew that he was the person she was supposed to stand beside. The life she had chosen with the family that had come with it was where Dixie belonged now. She had never needed a white-picket-fence life. So many things that bothered other women at her age never bothered Dixie. She was who she was. She was Dixie, and now she was Dixie - Tig's Old Lady.
So yea, she wasn't sure what that exactly meant. She wasn't a sweet-butt anymore and she wasn't in that strange limbo that she had been stuck in for the past few months. Dixie was headed into a territory within the framework of SAMCRO that she had never really touched before. There would be expectations that she did not know about and more pressure. Logic reasoned, and had reasoned in her mind for a very long time, that an Old Lady's life was much more than the respect and perks that the sweet-butts were allowed to see.
But Dixie wasn't afraid anymore. She wasn't afraid because this was exactly where she was supposed to be.