"I don't mind living in a man's world, as long as I can be a woman in it."
A hopeful new member with an affiliation to a neighbouring charter shows up in Charming, looking to get in with the infamous Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club. The only problem...
Sydney presents Tig with a test that he passes with flying colours, but not all of SAMCRO is so lucky when it comes to getting a good report card, especially when ATF is doing the grading...
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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, mentions of drug use/overdose, violence/death, racism/gang activity.
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Tig stalked out of the clubhouse with the hope that some fresh air would calm him down enough to be able to get through the remainder of the day without beating the prospect to a pulp, but not enough to completely abolish the rage that he was building in anticipation for a sweet release later this evening. He meandered through the various cars and group people scattered around the compound, taking himself through to the office where he found Gemma sitting at her desk with her hair tucked behind her ears as she fanned her face with a tire catalog.
"Air conditioning broken again?" He scowled as he eyed the sweat beading on her forehead.
"Nah," she tossed the catalog down onto the desk when it did nothing to cool her down. "It's these damn meds."
"Meds?" His face scrunched up further.
"Menopause." She explained as she rolled her eyes.
"Oh," He nodded attentively, taking a seat on the arm of the couch.
Gemma chortled as he acted as if he knew exactly what she was talking about, an appreciative smile coming to her face. "Be glad that you don't have to deal with any of that shit." She leaned down to grab her purse, walking over to him where she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're doing good, baby." She nodded, exiting the office in search of Clay.
Tig sat with wrinkled as he contemplated Gemma's words, finally understanding that she was making a joke about Sydney's age, but in his confusion he'd realized that menopause had to do with periods... And Sydney didn't seem to have any of those. He didn't know much about menstruation, but he had been around enough women to know that they usually happened once a month—and they had been sleeping together for almost two.
Gemma made her way to into the clubhouse where she found Clay at the bar, glad that she didn't have to work up more of a sweat by taking her search any further. "Hey, baby." He smiled, feeling far less stressed in the presence of his light now that they had a solid plan that everybody seemed to be on board with.
"Hey." She forced a smile. "I'm gonna head over to Cara Cara... Get that prescription taken care of." She narrowed her eyes.
"Okay." He nodded, knowing better than to say anything else about the new, and sensitive subject—the sooner that she took care of that prescription, the better.
