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mybeautifuldecay · 6 years

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Private Tutor. Chapter Three: It Seemed Like A Nice Neighbourhood To Have Bad Habits In.

Chapter One. Chapter Two.

I went a little over my initial word count limit on this one, but I couldn’t stop writing...so here goes nothing <3

Here’s to you @gotham-ruaidh - you’re my shining fic light, I can always rely on you to give me wonderful advice when I need it most in fandom things, writing things and life things. You’re a gem.

Sipping on her coffee, Claire smiled as she thought about her plans for the day. Frank was meandering around the kitchen, packing his lunch for the day and pouring his own morning beverage into his personalised travel mug. Stroking her back reverently he kissed her cheek before picking up his briefcase.

“Any nice plans for the day, darling?” He asked as he slipped his jacket over his arm and reached for his car keys – ready to go for the day.

“Yes, actually,” Claire answered, looking across at him kindly, “I’m just popping into town to run a couple of errands – and then I’m going to go and investigate the library.”

“Ah, very good.” Frank said, waving his free hand across at her before opening the back door which led out of the kitchen and into the attached garage. “Let me know if you’re passing the university, it would be nice to meet for a drink. I’m sure I can make the time for you. If not, though, see you this evening, Claire.”

“I’ll try, love you,” she said, her cheeks pinking as he winked at her and closed the door softly.

Closing her eyes, Claire let the fine autumn rain sprinkle across her face as she stood outside The Mitchell. In another life that would have been her morning routine. Relaxed and honest. But as it stood, Frank hadn’t spoken lovingly to her before he’d left for work. In fact, he’d barely acknowledged her as he’d woken, gotten up and dressed for the day. He hadn’t asked what she might be up to. He had kissed her on the forehead as he’d skirted around her in the kitchen, but it felt more like a gesture of ownership than of love.

The journey from the house into Glasgow had been uneventful. Claire had successfully managed to navigate the bus system and, with the help of google maps on her phone, had easily reached her intended destination.

With a fresh cup of tea in her hands, she brushed the damp hair from her forehead as she walked along the slick pavement and up the small steps towards the entrance.

It was incredibly quiet when she walked inside, the distant hum of the outdated air-conditioning vents echoing through the vast interior, wafting the scent of fresh books around her and Claire felt instantly at home. She found the information desk easily and the middle-aged woman behind the desk smiled widely as she took Claire’s ID and created her an account.

“Is there a particular section that you’re interested in, Mrs Randall?” She asked, rolling her r’s as she spoke. “I can point ye in the right direction if so, and ye canna use the computers yet – aye? We’re having some work done this week and they’re are out of action. Unless ye have a laptop, the WiFi is alright, though I canna help ye too much wi’ it, I’m no’ too clued up on these things.” She said with a laugh as she passed Claire her brand-new library card.

“I’m alright for the internet, thank you,” Claire replied, peeling her moist coat from her shoulders and placing it delicately over her arm, “I’d just like to know where the medical section is, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Ach! No, lass. I dinna mind a bit. Usually, though, those studying medicine get their books up at the university, we dinna get many down this way. Are ye a doctor?”

Claire blushed as she fiddled with the zip on her jumper. “Oh, no, I’m not…anything, really.” She said, embarrassment colouring her tone. “I’m just interested, and I needed to get out of the house.”

“Say no more, Mrs Randall.”

“Claire,” Claire replied softly as she let an easy smile flourish across her face, “please, it’s just Claire.”

“Nice to meet ye, Claire,” the librarian said stretching out her hand and taking one of Claire’s between two of her own, “I’m Ellen, the main librarian here at The Mitchell, though ye might meet Mary from time to time. Then there’s Gillian who’s here at the weekends and Rupert and Angus – but ye dinna need to take them pair seriously, aye? They’re the jokers around here.”

Ellen continued to talk to Claire about her colleagues as she guided her, by the hand, through the stacks towards the section which held the non-fiction science and medical texts. The building was wonderfully calm and quiet, and Claire had been glad, almost immediately, that she had made the decision to come.

“The heart of the library, though,” Ellen said, coming to a stop in front of an arc of books, “is our local archives. Ye could lose yerself for hours in there looking up yer relatives. That’s how I compiled our family tree, ye ken?”

“Oh, that’s really good. You’ve got to have some work perks, eh!” Claire replied, her fingers itching to thumb through the books sitting -unopened- right in front of her eyes.

This certainly seemed like a good neighbourhood to have bad habits in, she thought, her ignorant husband springing to mind as she quickly eradicated the image of him and his disdain for her furthering her education from her thoughts. There would be time to worry about that later.

“Anyway, ye dinna want to hear about that yet. I’ll leave ye be, aye. If there is anything else I can help ye with - please let me know. It was lovely to meet ye, Claire.” Ellen whispered, patting her hand before letting it go.

Claire had barely blinked and Ellen had disappeared, back to the front desk no doubt to continue her duties. For a moment, Claire basked in the silence, the still air falling around her as the steady ticking of the clock suddenly became noticeable in the background.

So taken was she with the books now at her disposal, Claire didn’t notice the figure that appeared around the stack. Looking in her general direction, the shadow smiled and pulled himself out into plain sight before speaking lowly but clearly.

“If ye chose one,” he said gleefully, “then it’s more fun that looking at their spines, aye?”

Claire jumped, her heart racing as she refocused, turning her head to look at the new stranger. “What if I’m just here for the aesthetics?” She quipped. “Maybe I’m an architect hunter just on the lookout for some fascinating internal structures. Or even an artist who needs some inspiration for her latest…masterpiece.” Finally silencing herself, Claire cocked her head to the left as if challenging him to dismiss her claims.

“Weel,” he replied after a moment, scratching the back of his head, his fingers tangling in his longish red hair, “then accept my apologies. I didna mean to assume.” He trained his eyes on her, his face seeming quite familiar for just a moment until she shrugged it off, unable to place him with anyone else she knew.

“Apology accepted.” Claire said, nodding and smiling as she held her hand out to introduce herself. “Claire.” She said monosyllabically, not adding anything else to her name.

“Claire.” He reiterated, taking hold of her hand and hesitating for a moment. Claire saw the indecision in his eyes. It looked as if he wanted to do something else – and not just shake her hand – but, in the end, formality won out over prehistoric gentlemanly greetings. He wanted to kiss the back of her hand, she could tell. “Are ye a doctor, Claire?” He asked, mirroring Ellen’s earlier question. She chuckled to herself, the irony all too clear in their assessment of her career. Clearly, she thought, she should have studied medicine since everyone seemed to assume she already had.

“Me?” She replied rather self-consciously. “No. I’m just me, just Claire. Not a doctor. Not anything…truly.” She reiterated, her heart dropping at the sum of her life so far.

“Now that I dinna believe for a moment, lass.” He counteracted.

“Oh, you don’t. And why would that be, Mr…?” She murmured softly, leaving her sentence hanging in the air as she waited for him to return the favour and tell her his name.

“Because, ye’ve a look about ye that says yer more than nothing, aye? Take it from someone who kens these things. Hello, though, just Claire – but no’ just Claire – it’s verra nice to meet you. I’m Dr Fraser. But ye can call me Jamie.” He finished finally, bending his head in a small bow as he let go of her hand.

“You’re a doctor?” She asked, astonished that he was here - so far away from the university which surely housed a more suitable supply of medical literature.

Jamie nodded in return.

“Can I ask a favour of you, Dr Fraser?” Claire enquired with only single breath between her first question.

“Aye, ask away, Claire.” Jamie countered an unmistakable glint of joy in his voice as he spoke. “I’ll try and help ye anyway I possibly can.”

“Would you be able to spare an hour or so to help me with some research? Please?”

#gotham's writing workshop #Private Tutor #Modern AU #featuring; Ellen #Jamie X Claire #Outlander #Fanfiction

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