Jax punts, and Clay gets to his other question: "What the hell is going on with Tara?" Jax doesn't know. He tries to explain, "She's a surgeon, Clay. She's in that room, saving lives, every day." Clay rolls his eyes and asks, "And your point?" "It's the opposite of everything I am," Jax says. Clay snorts dismissively: "It's your guilt talking. She's a chick! Don't complicate it. You gotta make a decision, son. She's either in or out. But if she's out, you don't let that hammer fall until she moves those scrips for us. We don't get that cash, we don't get your son." And ... scene. This is brilliant because everyone with half a brain knows that Clay does not think of Gemma as "a chick" who is to be moved around like a chess piece in the club games -- yet Clay has no problem spinning this line of BS when he wants to move Tara around like a chess piece. It's a nice piece of manipulation.
And it works, because the next scene has Jax meeting with Tara in the neonatal patients' lounge. He sighs and says, "I need to ask you for a favor. The club came into some prescription drugs, mostly HIV stuff. I was wondering if you know a clinic that might need it." Props to Charlie Hunnam for his delivery here -- everything from his body language to the way he sighs between sentences broadcasts how much he doesn't want to be asking this. Tara asks, "Black market?" and Jax nods nearly imperceptibly. He pleads that he just needs a name, but Tara points out he'll need more than that. She paces, thinking, and Jax watches her, his brow creased like a shar-pei's. Tara finally says, "I know where to take it," and Jax protests, "You're not taking it anywhere." She shoots him down with, "They're medical professionals, Jax. They're not going to buy drugs from a biker." (This argument could get tiresome if Tara breaks it out too much: "They're tax professionals, Jax. They're not going to expect 1099s from a biker." "They're tenured professors, Jax. They're not going to accept a thesis on Rimbaud from a biker." "They're pastry chefs, Jax. They're not going to accept plastic sacks of white powder from a biker." And so on.) Reminded again that there's a rather large professional gulf between the two of them, Jax can only seethe. Tara's helping, whether he likes it or not.