#chief unser

“Unser, I would greatly appreciate you letting me go home.” my palms were wrapped around the yellow cell bars and my face was resting against the cool metal. 

“Not until you tell me what happened to that barhop that’s been hangin’ around the clubhouse. She was found dead at the county line this morning and I know you’ve had some issues with her.” he was sitting on the bench outside my cell, breathing deep as he wiped a napkin over his sweaty forehead and tugging at his uniform collar.

“Chief, let me tell you what I know about that skank and my issue with her. She’s been slutting it up with my guys and has tried more than once to get on Jax’s dick and he thinks it’s funnier than hell that I am pissed. Now, I did not murder her. I have too much on the line to risk one slut for my reputation or risk the boys. You may have a slight motive but you do not have my fingerprints, seeing as the Mayans burned those off about a year ago,” I wiggle my fingers at him for emphasize, “but we’ve settled that and I’m not mad about it. You do not have a weapon nor do you have any visual proof that I was anywhere near her. My alibi is solid: I was at the shop working all day and I spent my night at the MC party. Can I please go home now? I have some things I need to get done.” he sighed and contemplated for a few moments before heaving himself up and grabbing the keys from his belt to unlock my cell. 

“I can’t promise that you won’t be questioned further but for now, you’re free to go.” I smiled at him then and patted his cheek as I slid by him to get my things from the arresting officer and head outside where I knew Jax and a few of the others would be waiting to give me shit about this.

“There’s my jailbird!” Tig grins from his place on his Harley, snuffing out a cigarette on the concrete and standing to his full height.

“Hey Tig. Jax, you owe me.” The blonde is grinning from his own Harley seat, his Reaper Crew hat on backwards and sunglasses perched on his nose.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’.” he stands too and comes up to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me into his chest so were nose to nose.

“Get a room!” Tig yells at us with a laugh as he swings a leg over his bike and buckles his helmet.

“We’re workin’ on it!” I yell back with my own grin as Jax hands me my helmet and climbs on the bike, waiting for me to join him. 

“Let’s go home.” I whispered in Jax’s ear, nipping lightly at his neck with a smirk before settling back with my cheek pressed to his back.

Wayne Unser, Sons of Anarchy, Episode 2.4