Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story.

Three Princes

A sequel to "Intended"

Chapter 10

"Nine hundred and twenty-four dollars for a dress the girl's going to wear one time?" Joss could hear Clay bellowing at Gemma in the kitchen even though Joss was safely back in her room…Jax's old room…whatever…she just wanted to go home! She was tucked up in a little ball, leaning against the wall on the full size bed, listening to her "lawyer" as she'd come to call Clay in her mind, going to battle for her "rights." Though Clay wasn't making it look that way of course, but he was standing by his word to not let anything she truly couldn't stand be forced upon her…and when Clay had returned home and asked how the dress shopping went, well, Joss had to tell him…and when he didn't seem to believe that any garment could be as bad as what she'd described, Joss had a cellphone picture she'd taken at the ready to show him. The freak of a dress was still at the shop, waiting to be tailored…so it was a good thing Joss had thought to take that picture! And now, Clay was in with Gemma, making the whole thing a money issue! Clay…she loved him!

Gemma was staunchly fighting for Joss's dress though…yeah…sure, "Joss's dress;" that mistake in tulle was all Gemma's dress! "Is it my fault that California's God damn sales tax is eight point seven five percent on the dollar?"

"Sales tax or not, it's a thousand bucks!" Insisted Clay, and Joss heard paper flutter…ah, Clay was holding the receipt for the dress…nice touch! "And what's this? 'Cost of alterations to be determined?'" He paused a moment, then his voice was a little louder. "You mean we're not done paying for it yet?"

"Clay, the alterations can't be more than about fifty dollars!" Gemma spat. "Joss needs more room in the top of it; you want her popping out of it like a hot tube of biscuit dough when she says 'I do?'"

"I want her in something that ain't gonna cost me a thousand bucks!" Clay bellowed again unimpressed, and Joss heard him slam the receipt down on the counter for added effect. "And no tiara's, absolutely not," he persisted vehemently, and Joss smiled, because it was obvious that she hadn't been the only one to share some concerns with Clay. "You have no idea how degrading they are to that kid back there, and I'm not standing by and watch you turn her into some show dog again in your pursuit of creating some lame ass fairy tale!"

"You watch what you're saying!" Gemma warned with her own vehemence, but then she sighed. "But yeah, I screwed up with the tiara, you're right, it's out."

Oh those words made Joss so relieved…and she sighed herself, tucked up as she was against the wall, and now crossed her fingers that the hideous dress would follow the tiara. Clay and Tig…she had to two incredible men on her side, looking out for her.

"And the dress goes back too," Clay declared. "End of story."

Gemma sighed again, but this time it was not in resignation. "Why are you being such a fucking tyrant?"

"It's my God damn money, that's why!" Clay shouted, really putting his authority behind his words, and that seemed to have quieted Gemma. Wow, was that it? It was over? The tiara was gone, and so was the horrible dress, just like that? Oh God…thank you Clay! Thank you Tig! And thank God for both of them! But, then Joss heard something she never thought she'd hear…and it scared her more than she was prepared to be. Gemma was crying…

"Clay, I'm trying to give Joss and Tig the kind of ceremony they need," she said, and Joss heard the sound of paper towels being ripped off of the role, to blot eyes no doubt, and her heart was pounding in her chest…shit…should she go out there? Fuck…should she give in and agree to the dress from hell? Gemma was crying…and Gemma didn't cry! "You know their union has to be well recognized, and you know it has to have the appropriate power behind it…you can't transfer the keys without everyone knowing the next president is every bit the son of a bitch you are, and certain things have to happen certain ways to get so powerful a point across."

And now Clay sighed resignation…oh no…selfishly Joss worried that her arch nemesis, the Sno Ball dress, was about to be resurrected from the dead. "I am not debating that, Gemma." Clay said, his voice quiet, in fact it was a bit hard to hear him now because his words were muffled. He must have been hugging Gemma, that would make sense, and it made Joss smile a little to know that Gemma was being comforted somehow…but please God…no cupcake dress! "Your heart and your head are in the right place, lady," he told Gemma. "But we both know you're barking up the wrong tree with most of what you're doing here…and you can't fix one kid by piling all his shit onto the other one."

Whoa…Joss's ears pricked forward and her heart really pounded now…this was obviously a Jax thing that Clay was speaking of…but what exactly was going on with her dear "brother?" Clay had told Joss that morning that Gemma was going through some "mommy shit," so yeah, that was obviously a Jax induced problem…but what was the problem? Jax and Tara weren't getting married too, were they? Or…had they already, and not told anyone? Okay, Tara didn't want the club in her life anymore, but Jax, he wouldn't shut the club out of something like his wedding would he? The club was his family! And what about his mother, she was even more his family! If Jax and Tara had gotten married, why would Jax have kept it such a secret? However, if that was it, yeah, it would completely devastate Gemma!

Gemma was still crying, and from the sounds of things, Clay was still holding her…good…Joss hoped Clay held her until she stopped crying…that's what Tig would have done had it been Joss crying. Gemma was hurting…not knowing why was worrying Joss now…and making her recurrently achy oblique throb in sympathy. "I know it's wrong," she heard Gemma admit to Clay. "And I know I'm making Joss hate me," she said, and then sobbed once or twice, Clay softly hissing "shhhh" to her until Gemma stopped just in time, because hearing Gemma that upset about what she'd just said had made Joss tear up as well. "I don't want her to hate me, I couldn't love her more if she were our kid, and I'm trying really fucking hard not to screw up another one of my kids, but," Gemma paused again and sobbed a little more. "But apparently that's all I know how to do as a mother." And then the dam broke, and Gemma's muffled sobs rang out against Clay's shoulder.

Chapter 10; Part 2

Somehow Tig had managed to remain undisturbed at the beat up table in back of the garage, not eating today at lunch, too busy with his research. That no one was around was good, not only did it allow him to focus more, but it also kept a side of him hidden that he'd rather not have to defend in front of anyone too. He knew most of this shit he was reading though…where was the stuff that was going to help him, damn it? And even if he found it, what was he going to do with the information? Still, at least trying to do something was better than waiting around for everything to come crashing down…because that crash was coming, Tig could feel it.

The scraping sound of the crookedly hinged metal back door of the garage opening over the asphalt and gravel pulled Tig's head out of his book. Shit…he couldn't have the last ten minutes of his lunch break to himself? Really? And of course it was Opie wandering out here too…God fucking damn it…how'd Ope always know exactly where Tig didn't want him in particular to appear, and then go there? It was a really odd, annoying kind of sixth sense for Ope to have…but nonetheless, there he stood…and he was staring strangely down at Tig until Tig just couldn't fucking ignore him anymore.

"What?" Tig looked up from the book on the table and half snarled, letting it be known that he'd much rather go back to being alone, but Ope seemed to be immune to hints like that…Jesus fucking Christ, why was Opie always hanging around him now, because it seemed like he was…when the hell did they become BFB's or whatever the fuck…BFB's? What the hell were BFB's? Big Fucking Boobs? No, that's not what he and Opie were….they were BFF's! Yeah…he and Ope were Best Friends Forever! Wait! What the fuck? No, they absolutely weren't that either! Aw fuck! Somehow, this was a Big Fuckin' Bovine's fault…Tig just knew it…cows! Where the hell had they come from? No…no…no…moooooooooooo! God fucking damn it! What the flaming hell did Opie want anyway?

"I've never seen you read before," Opie commented as he sat down on the other side of the warped wood picnic table, a can of soda and a bag of pretzels in his hand. Tig sneered, but Ope didn't seem to mind, he just craned his neck to read the spine of the book in front of Tig, "'The Reality of Repressed Memories and Psychoanalysis?'" Ope looked strangely at Tig and shook his head, laughing a little bit for some reason. "If you're preparing for married life, you're really trying too hard, bro."

"No, man," Tig grumbled, pulling the book a little closer to himself, like he was hiding it from Opie, but what was the point now? "I'm trying to help Joss, okay? Leave me alone."

"Joss?" Ope's eyebrows raised and he sat a little straighter. "What's wrong with her? What happened?" The words flew out of Opie's mouth as fast as Tig imagined his heart must have been pounding. "Was it her fall off of the horse? You've got to do something about tha—"

"Ope!" Tig shouted, finally ending the nervous, concerned gibberish spilling from Opie's lips, then Tig sighed, "Jesus fucking Christ, can't you for once not make me regret saying her name out loud around you?"

Opie's shoulders stooped…fuck…the guy really was trying…and Tig knew what it was to be in love with Joss and not fucking want to be, that was Tig's life, compounded by the facts that he went to bed without her every night now, and spent all day worrying about how she was doing. Opie…he couldn't help it the same way Tig couldn't help it…but Joss belonged to Tig…Opie was going to have 'help it!' "Sorry, man." Ope said, but looked up again at Tig and took a deep breath. "But you gotta understand I just can't pretend I didn't hear things like that…you can't tell me she needs help, and then not expect me to react."

"Yeah," Tig sighed…fuck, this was such a strange acquaintance he and Ope had…both in love with the same girl, and both aware of it, but only one of them would ever have her. Shit, in any other club, there'd have been blood spilled over this…and if Tig didn't know that one day he was going to need a man like Ope, there would have been blood spilled in SAMCRO too. Besides, Ope was trying…and after what Tig had taken away from him…yeah, Tig deserved to suffer Opie's affection for Joss. "Joss is," Tig started, trying to think of the right way to put this that wouldn't rouse Opie to further action, but that also wouldn't make Joss sound as though she was about to have a mental break…at least, Tig hoped she wasn't cruising for a mental break, but really, with the way things were and her always desperately clutching him, she might've been. "I don't know what she is," Tig finally admitted. "I just know something's got her fucked up. I can't get her off of me when I get to see her, she's like a God damn leech, and every time I leave, she's bawling like she'll never see me again."

"Maybe that's because you called her a 'leech.'" Opie said flatly, his eyes shining coldly towards Tig.

"Sorry," fuck, what was he thinking saying that in front of Op—wait! Did he just apologize for calling his own old lady a "leech?" And to Ope? Oh hell no! "Look, she's my God damn leech, and I'll call her any kind of sucking thing I wanna call her! She's my tick! My mosquito! My anteater!"

"What?" Ope was shaking his head and looking at Tig like he had no idea what he was talking about…which would have made sense. "Anteaters don't 'suck,' they have a long, sticky tongue."

Huh. How…interesting…a long, sticky tongue…long, sticky tongue…Tig smiled a bit, lost in thought…long, sticky tongue…wow, cows really paled by comparison…hey, what sound did an anteater make? No matter…Tig was good with what he knew, nodding his head, "Alright!"

"Oh come on, man!" Ope groaned and immediately reached across the table. "Gimme the book, you need some help too!" He quipped, getting one hand on the cover and trying to pull it away, but Tig snapped out of his anteater…whatever it was, and yanked the book away from Opie's prying grasp.

"Hey, I need this, God damn it!" Tig grit out through clenched teeth and wished again that Ope had never come out here…Opie made his mind do such stupid shit…okay, so his mind did a lot of stupid shit all the time, but prior to Opie's arrival, Tig was so focused on the book, so focused on what sounded like Joss's predicament, turning pages with so much eagerness to see if the answer to how to help his sweet, dark angel open up was on the other side. "Joss needs me!"

Opie left the book alone now but hunched over towards Tig like he was about to tell him a secret or something. He was shaking his head though, looking at Tig like he had some high expectations of what Tig was going to do to help Joss. "She wants to be close to you, and so you're reading about how to psychoanalyze why she'd want that? Is that really what she 'needs' from you?"