Ah, another Tuesday, another episode of my favorite television show that hasn't been canceled. Thanks for waiting so patiently for my updates. Not sure if I'll be able to update on time next week due to my hopeful visions of school and getting a job. Thanks to jennifer11; YOU ROCK! Disclaimer: I do not own anything SoA/Kurt Sutter/FX related. Clark Family is mine.
For the first time in a while, it wasn't the sun that woke Brielle up. The annoyingly loud alarm clock that sat on Tig's nightstand was screaming in her ear. Not bothering to look at the clock, she slammed her open hand down on the snooze button, shutting the bothersome appliance up. Next to Brielle laid Juice, hugging one of the pillows that had been on the side he slept on. The alarm clock had woken him as well, but he chose to ignore it and go back to sleep.
He hadn't been surprised when he saw the decor of the bedroom. Juice couldn't help but roll his eyes at how very "Tig" this room was. His name was written everywhere in the selection of decorations. Darkly colored sheets on the bed, an ivory colored carpet that looked softer than velvet, two darkly stained wood bedside tables on both sides of the bed, the walls were painted an ivory color that matched the carpet. The closet doors infront of the bed were made out of two tall sheets of mirrored glass. There was even door beads hanging in the doorjamb of the bathroom.
Rolling onto his back, Juice smiled happily as several of his vertebrae popped. From the corner of his eye, Juice saw Brielle roll onto her back also as she fell back to sleep. The comforter barely covered her breasts. Which Juice noticed was barely covered by her fancy bra and the comforter. He froze, midexhale, as he noticed that he too was barely clothed; his boxers sat firmly on his hips. Finishing his exhale sharply, he used both hands to rub his eyes and then sat up. Taking a look around the room he found both of their clothes on the floor.
Juice gently shook Brielle which earned him a grunt before she opened her eyes. "What?" She asked.
"Did we, um, last night," Juice struggled to find the right words. "Did we have sex?"
"No," She laughed, rolling on her side to face him. Which just ended up as her looking at the side of his torso. "Juice, it was almost four in the morning when we got home. You pretty much crashed the second I told you, you can sleep on my side."
Juice nodded and laid back down, the cool pillow chilled the bare sides of his scalp. Next to him, Brielle had shut her eyes again, preparing to go back to sleep. It was six in the morning and they had only been asleep for two hours. With a small sigh, Juice decided he should try to get some sleep as well. He smiled again when she put her face to his side and an arm around his belly.
This isn't happening, he thought as he reinforced her position with his arm under her head. It's all going way too fast. She hadn't even officially told Tig that she was done and he was already spending the night. How was he even going to explain this to the guys when they teased him about leaving so soon? For now, he didn't care. Her skin was so soft as was her hair, her breath landing softly on his pec. Juice wasn't about to ruin this be pushing her away. After all, this is what he had wanted for almost a month now. Well, one of the things he had wanted.
"Ah, shit," Brielle hissed, sitting up and getting out of bed.
"Wha-what?"
"I've got to get to work. But if you like, you can sleep until your normal time to get up."
She leaned over, her auburn hair fell over the right side of her head, a pleasant smile on her face. Holding her hair back from falling in Juice's face, she put her lips onto his. Juice wasn't sure how to react. He was beginning to like her, as more than just a friend, but she was Tig's old lady. Well, as far as Tig knew she was. Although he knew how angry Tig would be to walk in on this, Juice kissed back, knotting his fingers in her hair. She pulled away, that damn smile still on her face.
Brielle was bent over the motor of a 1982 Ford F-150 motor that had been pulled from where it had been bolted in for years. One of the mechanics had needed to pull it from the engine cavity in order to work on it and Brielle was making sure he did his job properly before allowing it to be returned. Once she gave the motor her approval, she picked up her clipboard, signed off on some papers, and went to the office. As she set the clipboard onto the desk Gemma usually sat at, she thought it was odd that the queen hadn't at least called to say she wouldn't be there. It was almost 10:30 and there was still no sign of Gemma. She hadn't been at the party, so the excuse of a hangover was most likely bullshit.
Going to one of the filing cabinets, she pulled a list of the shops employees from a folder. Taking the work requests that had been locked in the desk, she returned to the shop, sitting at the long counter in the back of the shop. In front of her was the schedule clipboard. With her elbow on the counter and her head propped up on her fist, she began to fill the schedule boxes. One request was for extra hours; a grandchild was soon expected and he wished to help with any expense as much as possible. The other two requests were for time off. One of them had been filed by Tig.
While she filled out the schedule, carefully coordinating times and shifts, she left Tig's week open. He had asked for Friday, the shop's busiest day, off and she was sorely tempted to ignore his plea. They hadn't even been able to talk that whole morning. Brielle had ignored the clubhouse as if it was asking for spare change on the sidewalk and Tig hadn't said anything to her when he and Clay had left to take care of some business. The only people who had greeted her were the men already working when she got there and Juice once he finally arrived. She doubted Tig had even noticed she was there. Biting her lip, she filled in his week but wrote a note on the box that was ment for Friday. Talk to me before Friday, B.C.
After signing off on the schedule, she hung it on the wall where it always went. Gathering the loose papers, Brielle went to the office again. Once there, she shredded the work requests and returned the employee's list to it's proper folder. Just as she shut the cabinet drawer, her phone rang. The caller I.D. said, in bold letters, that Tara Knowles was calling. Brielle rolled her eyes. She seriously didn't feel like having a heated conversation this early. What could she possibly want?
"What?" Brielle asked, putting the phone to her ear.
"Brielle, it's Tara," The doctor spoke softly, somewhat surprised the other woman had kind of snapped at her. Again, Brielle rolled her eyes. "Um, Gemma's at the hospital."
The mechanic-ess stood up straight upon hearing this news. "Christ, what happened?"
"You may want to come to St. Thomas. I can't tell you over the phone. It's extremely urgent."
Brielle snapped the phone shut and looked out of the office into the shop. There wasn't a whole lot of people she could get to watch the shop at the moment. Most of the Sons were trying to wake Bobby while Clay, Tig, and Jax were busy elsewhere. Her eyes fell onto Mike, one of the most dependable and experianced mechanics. After asking him to stay in charge for and hour or two, she strode to her car in preperation to go to St. Thomas.
"You did what?" Gemma snapped at her oldest sons girlfriend. After specifically asking Tara and Unser not to tell anyone, Tara turns and blabbs to Brielle. Not that Gemma didn't love the middle Clark child like her own, it was just another person who would look at her differently. Honestly, Gemma thought she would be shunned, that somehow, they'd see it as her fault. She knew her boys well enough to know that if they found out, they'd be so consumed by anger, they'd get sloppy and the ATF would really be all over them. "Whatever, just let her in."
Guiltily, Tara went to the door, ushering Brielle into the room. Her eyebrows knitted as she saw Gemma. Feeling unneeded, Tara left the room to sit in the uncomfortable chair just outside the room. Brielle couldn't believe the violence Gemma had been subjected to. Her lip had been busted and a cut was oozing a little bit under her left eye. It was visibly obvious she had a bruised, maybe cracked rib or two as she tried to breath as little as possible. Something told Brielle that Gemma wasn't ready for an embrace, or to be touched at all for that matter. She raised the seat of the rolly chair so she wouldn't be looking up the hospital gown of her second mother.
"Oh, Gem," She frowned. "How're you feeling?"
Gemma snorted and then quickly held her ribs tightly. "Like I was raped. Brielle, you cannot tell anyone. If the boys found out now-"
"They would get sloppy with their revenge, Stahl would be on them like white on rice and we'll all be SAMCRO-less," Brielle smiled. "I know what you're thinkin', Gem. Your secret's safe."
Brielle put a gentle hand on Gemma's shoulder and left the room. She couldn't help but sneer as she caught a glimpse of Tara stand from the chair and return to the room. Brielle had heard Gemma shouting at Tara before she went into the room. Honestly, if Tara couldn't keep Gemma's secret, and Gemma didn't have many detrimental secrets like this, could she keep any secret? Brielle was beginning to distrust her again, just as she had eleven years ago.
Retrieving her cell phone from the depths of her purse, Brielle read through three text messages she had recieved. They must have been from one original source, they had the same wording about Gemma being in the hospital. Her sneer turned into a smirk; despite how active the Sons could be, they were quite lazy when it came with texting. Snapping her phone shut, she strode to the waiting room.
When she got to the waiting room, she reeled as if hitting an invisible wall. Of course, Tig stood at the doorjamb of the waiting room while Clay and Jax sat next to each other. Shooting Tig a glare, she sat next to Clay. Brielle was tempted to rub her eyes, especially since she had only had about three hours of sleep, but kept herself from doing so due to her make up.
"Did you get to see Gemma?" Clay asked, stretching his arms aross the backs of the chairs.
"No," Brielle shook her head trying to hide her lie. "The nurse wouldn't give me her room number because I'm not biologically related."
Clay scoffed and leaned his head back. The four in the waiting room fell silent, waiting for something to happen. Brielle picked at her fingernails, jiggling her right leg in impatience. Jax was slowly replying to a text someone had sent him. Tig remained leaning against the doorjamb, watching Brielle as she inspected her nails.
The whole morning she had ignored him. Even now, he could tell by the way she sat that she didn't want to be in the same room as he was. And that glare she had given him; it was a bone chilling look. Tig wondered if there was something going on between her and Juice. After all, they had spent a lot of time together at Bobby's party. One of the croweaters had informed him that the two left together, also. Tig shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, he had been spending a lot of energy making sure everyone knew that Brielle was his old lady again. Juice didn't seem like an old lady thief to Tig.
Just as Tig was going to say something, there was a commotion down the hall. Bobby had been laid on a stretcher and the rest of the guys pushed him down the hallway. Chibs, with his Scottish brogue, called for everyone to move aside for the freight train that was speeding down the hallway. They stopped at the doorframe, catching the other's attention.
"How's the homecoming queen?" Tig asked, slightly humored that Boby had made himself so sick.
"A little green, but he'll be okay." Juice answered.
"How's Gemma?" Bobby groaned, lifting his head up from the stretcher pad. A soft giggle left Brielle.
"Better than you," Clay replied, putting a smile on everyone's faces.
Tig, still standing at the doorway, whistled softly hoping to catch Brielle's attention. With a steely look in her eye, she looked up at him and angrily mouthed 'what?'. Using his forefinger, he silently asked her to follow him into the hallway, away from the others. Annoyed, Brielle stood from her chair and followed, feeling like a teen who was being pestered by the most bothersome kid in school.
Once they were far enough away from the others, Tig turned and face Brielle. Her arms were crossed and Tig felt like he had been thrown into the fires of Hell. She looked furious and he couldn't tell why. He didn't remember doing anything that would have made her angry. At least, he didn't think she had found out about anything that would make her angry.
"What?" She snapped, glaring at him with those harsh hazel eyes.
Tig was caught off guard. "Uh, did you get my request for Friday off?"
"Really? You dragged me away from everyone to talk about a day off. I'm going back," Brielle turned on her heel to return to the waiting room and was yanked back by Tig's hand holding tight on her wrist.
"You're angry. Why are you angry?"
"Found you balls deep in a croweater last night when I wanted to go home," She growled. Tig squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe that she had walked in on that; he didn't even remember hearing the door open or close. No wonder she had left with Juice. She hadn't wanted to leave with him. "Alex, I'm done. I can't keep doing this."
For the first time in years, Tig felt his heart sink. He knew his track record was bad, but he had made it even worse by fooling around with that croweater last night. Brielle had done so much for him and he hadn't done much for her. "Before you make that decision, take Friday off with me. We'll have lunch. And talk. I know you love talking."
"Tig, no. I'm not falling for that again. What's going to happen is that I'm going to take that day off, and you're going to completely forget about it."
"Brie. I'm serious."
Moments passed. Brielle stared into his blue eyes, her lips pursed and arms crossed. Tig was getting impatient. He couldn't let her go. If he saw her with another man, God forbid another Son, he would die. Behind those hazel eyes, little did Tig know she was close to spilling tears down the front of her black crew neck tshirt. She hated that now, all of the sudden, he was wanting to save his ass when before he hadn't really cared.
"Alright. But if you forget or blow me off, I swear to God, you will not see the light of day."