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thetranquilteal · 4 years

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The Vintage Calendar [AO3] by @thetranquilteal

With the ending of her contract with the UK Armed Forces, all Claire Beauchamp wants for Christmas is to enjoy a quiet holiday in Scotland with her long-term boyfriend Frank Randall. While visiting with close friends, however, Claire is gifted with a vintage advent calendar that sets her life on a path she never expected... one that leads to Northern Badgers star, James Fraser.

Modern Day AU loosely based on the Netflix Christmas movie ‘The Holiday Calendar’. New chapter posted every day!

Day 1: Candy Cane

Claire wrapped her dressing gown around her a little tighter as she shuffled across the living space to the kitchenette, early morning light guiding the way. She placed the kettle on the stove and set about preparing tea, her cold hands fumbling with the canister.

“Still cold, love?” Frank came up behind her and rubbed his hands up and down her arms gently, trying to generate some heat.

“Yes,” she admitted with a light laugh as she wrapped her dressing gown around her a little tighter still. Mrs Baird’s Bed and Breakfast was quaint and in an ideal location, in the very centre of Inverness, but it was not as warm and cosy as she would have liked. “I just can’t seem to shake it.”

“Here,” he took the spoon out of her hand and guided her out of the way, “let me finish the tea. You go and sit by the fire.”

“Thank you,” she kissed him on the cheek and made her way around the couch towards the purple armchair that had caught her eye the moment they entered their accommodation. She paused, though, when the vintage calendar caught her eye.

“Frank?” Claire called.

“Hmm?”

“Did you open this?”

“Open what, darling?”

“The calendar that Mrs. Graham gave us.”

“No, I haven’t had the chance to have a closer look yet. Is there there something for today, then?”

“Yes,” Claire’s brow furrowed as she reached out and picked up the little figurine sitting in the already open doorway. “It’s a little candy cane.”

The sun had long since set by the time Claire wandered the streets of downtown Inverness looking for somewhere to stop for a warm drink. Sparkling lights and Christmas decorations adorned each side and muffled festive tunes could be heard from many of the doorways she passed. She couldn’t bring herself to walk through any of them however, the lights seemingly too bright and vibe feeling too thick, and instead kept walking, taking turns here and there looking for somewhere a little more quiet to spend her evening without Frank.

It had been a productive day, first studying various heavy tomes with the Reverend at the Manse and then a few hours spent at the local library looking over what Claire considered to be mounds of papers brought to them by the librarian, a large eyed woman with thick glasses, all too happy to deliver more than they could possibly read to their table along with what seemed to be a never ending cup of candy canes. It was there Frank had discovered a new lead, a handwritten note suggesting some rituals performed during yuletide centuries ago had a deeper and more intricate history than previously believed. Seeing the light spark in his eyes, Claire had encouraged him to continue his research and told him not to worry about their plan to spend the evening together - they had a whole month in town and one evening spent apart wouldn’t ruin anything after all.

The streets got darker and Claire subsequently got calmer, slowing her walk to a much more casual stroll, a warm looking restaurant now set in her sights. Suddenly a door opened to her left and a group of people flowed out, merriment evident in their faces if not their voices, each carrying boxes of what looked to be homemade Christmas decorations. She instinctively moved to the side to get out of the way, just barely dodging a stray oversized candy cane to the head and waited patiently in the entrance of an alleyway for them to pass.

“Druid!”

Claire jumped and turned to find an older man standing in an unassuming doorway staring at her. He was dressed in a shirt and kilt that had certainly seen better days and she looked around quickly to make sure that he was, in fact, looking at her before responding. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Druid!" The man repeated, waving for her to come in. "Ach, come on lass! I cannae stand here waiting for ye all night. Come in before ye attract attention!”

“I don’t-”

Obviously frustrated by her hesitation, the man grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man so seemingly agitated.

She stumbled slightly but regained her balance in time to watch the man leave her just as quickly as he had found her to join a group of men huddled on one side of the establishment. She pushed her indignation aside for a moment to look around and - found a very ordinary tavern. It made sense that she hadn’t noticed this place herself, she thought. It was free from glitz, glamour and - perhaps most significantly - any holiday glitter. Overall, it was rather dark and grungy with lanterns and fireplaces providing a warmth she hadn’t experienced all day.

Determined to remain calm after such an undignified entrance, she squared her shoulders and walked up to the bar, raising a hand to attract the attention of the barkeep.

“Local cider, please.”

The man nodded and Claire settled herself on a stool and, feeling less conspicuous, took her time studying her surroundings more closely. Individuals and small groups were scattered here and there, their collective chatter on par with the music playing through speakers overhead.

She accepted her drink and handed over the required amount of cash. She took a sip and smiled at the taste. 'Life was too short to not enjoy the drink in your hand' as her old Commanding Officer used to say. Half way through her drink the group of men huddled by one of the open fireplaces caught her attention again when a pained grunt travelled across the room.

Just ignore it, Beauchamp. Enjoy your drink, Beauchamp, she thought to herself and for a moment she managed to do just that. Until she couldn’t stand it any longer. "Dammit, Beauchamp."

Claire got up, drink still in hand, and made her way over, their discussion becoming clearer with every step.

“Well, what if I-”

“-I dinnae need yer help!”

“Ye cannae-”

“-one phone call-”

“For the love of-”

There, amongst five or so men, each talking over the top of one another, was a young red haired man sitting on a chair cradling his arm. So busy arguing amongst themselves, they barely noticed her presence.

“It’s fine-”

“-force the joint back, myself.”

“Don’t you dare!” Without thinking, Claire pushed through to stand in front of the injured man. “Stand aside at once!”

“What??”

“Stand aside, she says!”

“Here,” she turned to the loud and overly short bearded man closest to her and handed him her glass. “Hold this.”

“Hold this, she says!”

Claire tuned out the discussion around them and focused on the task at hand.

“Now, what’s happened?”

“Ugh,” the patient grunted as he shifted in his seat, “landed on the ice wrong. Cannae lift my arm without it hurtin’.”

“How long ago?”

“An hour mayhap.”

Claire nodded in understanding and reached out a hand. “May I?”

The man looked at her for a long moment before taking a swig from a glass on the table and visibility gritting his teeth in anticipation. He nodded his consent.

“Do you have a history of instability in this shoulder?” She asked as she palpated the area gently.

“I’ve dislocated it once before,” he admitted with a grimace.

“Or twice,” a gruff and somewhat familiar voice added in, the man responsible for... introducing her to this pub, she suspected.

“Or twice,” her patient reluctantly admitted. “But no’ in a long while.”

“Hmmm… you really ought to see a doctor. Are there any clinics open this time of night?” When he didn’t answer she turned to look at the other men who in turn were equally nonvocal and completely unhelpful. “No? Well, it looks to me like you’ve suffered from shoulder subluxation - a partial dislocation, that is - and it’s fixed itself already. So long as you keep your arm immobile and make sure to rest, I don’t see why you can’t wait to see your doctor tomorrow.” Decision made, Claire stood up and turned to the others. “Fetch me a long piece of cloth or a belt. And some ice from the bar.”

"Fetch me, she says!”

“Ach, shut up ye drunk eejit and do as the lady says,” a tall, bald headed man with a thick grey beard Claire hadn’t noticed before came forward, his authority evident in how quickly the so-called ‘drunk eejit’ complied.

Requests quickly in hand, she turned back to her waiting patient and went about efficiently setting his arm in a sling, the young man following her movements closely.

“Taking a guess you’ve done this before?”

“I’m a nurse,” Claire shared as she pulled the knot tight.

“Aye, you work at the hospital? I havenae seen ye there before.”

“No, not that kind of nurse,” Claire chuckled at Jamie’s confused look and handed him the ice pack before clarifying. “An Army Nurse. But now I have to say I'm curious. Do you frequent the hospital often, Mr…?”

“Fraser," he paused as if waiting for something. A particular reaction from her perhaps? "But you can call me Jamie.”

“Claire,” she reciprocated with a smile. “Under normal circumstances I would offer to shake your hand but considering your current predicament I must advise against it and instead remind you to keep the ice on your shoulder for no longer than 15 to 20 minutes at a time. Do you have a physical therapist?”

“Aye, he does,” the bald headed man came forward once again, a hand on Jamie’s good shoulder. “And I’ll make sure he sees them on the morrow.”

“Wonderful,” Claire nodded with pleasure and turned back to Jamie, hands planted firmly on her hips. “Now, I believe you owe me a drink.”

A/N: Candy canes. Candy canes everywhere! From here we diverge from canon-adjacent and take a path that is much more Hallmark. // Are you looking forward to seeing what figurine will be waiting for Claire tomorrow?

#the vintage calendar #outlander #fan fiction #christmas #modern day au #day 1 #jamie x claire #rated: hallmark

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years

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Deep Within The Darkness Peering. Part ii. Chapter One.

Anonymous said: OMGOMGOMGOMG DWTDP owns me! So original. Please please PLEASE finish this (after 87 chapters and multiple arcs of course!)

As you wish, Anon <3 MBD.

Not wanting to overwhelm him on his first few days of release, Claire simply gave Jamie a tour of her property, showed him his room, the lounge and the kitchen and then gave him some space to settle in. Glenna had been a saint through it all and had procured Claire a few days annual leave so that she could see he’d made himself truly at home. It also meant that she was able to drive him to his first probation meeting.

“Was there a lot to take in?” She asked as he climbed back into the car an hour later.

“Aye and no.” Replying he seemed content which in turn made her less worried. “I kent most of it from the meeting I had before I left the prison. I think I was just worried that things might have changed since.”

“And they haven’t?” She wanted him to meet John but had waited until this meeting before suggesting it, scared herself that something might go wrong. Grateful that things had gone as well as they could she paused to let him reply before putting the idea to him.

“No, thank the lord. She didna see it fit to impose a curfew or have me tagged.”

Their relationship, being new and still a little daunting for the both of them, meant that Jamie still seemed quiet and withdrawn but Claire wished he’d had the confidence to come and tell her of his fears. She could already see, as they pulled away from the council building, the relief coursing through him as he slumped back against the front seat.

“So, I have someone I’d like you to meet - if you’re up to it?”

Turning to look at her, Jamie smiled. “Oh, aye?”

“His name is John Grey. He’s a very close friend, a barrister actually. He’s the one who pushed through your appeal.”

“That sounds good.” Replying he looked sad for a moment, his hands gripping across his knees. “I only wish I had something more than ‘thank you’ to say to both of ye.”

“How many times do I have to say it,” reaching across the central console, she took one hand off the wheel for a moment and rested it over the back of his, squeezing once before taking it back, “you don’t need to do that. I can’t explain it entirely, but there was something nagging at me from the moment we met and I would’ve never forgiven myself if I’d ignored it. That means John saw it too, when he looked deeper into your case. I promise you, he wouldn’t fight for something, for someone he didn’t believe in - even at my request.”

Nodding, he tipped his head towards his lap, breaking eye contact as he smiled softly once more.

“Maybe soon you’ll trust me enough to talk. When you do, I’m here. I just wanted you to know that.”

He waited until they’d parked back outside Claire’s flat before he replied, his mind replaying certain painful memories as Glasgow flew past them. “It isna about trust, please dinna think that I want to hide anything from you. I just...can’t...not yet.”

Each night since his release she had carefully been applying the scar balm she’d picked up from work, her fingers gently rubbing the transparent cream into each and every inch of his sore back to ensure as little damage as possible remained etched into his flesh. Afterwards she’d silently washed her hands in the bathroom basin, placed the tub onto the top shelf of the unit above the sink, climbed into bed and cried herself to sleep. She knew the damage, she’d (at her own punishing request) seen the footage John had requested from the prison - each cruel blow depicted in grainy black and white, and she vividly recalled the operation she’d assisted in to ensure his survival.

Hearing his voice break as he tried to hold himself together made her instantly regret her wording as she sighed and pulled the key from the ignition.

It was a dry day, and they watched passers by as they wondered the pavements, crossing in front of the parked car as they cut across the grass on the edge of the apartment complex.There was definitely more to the story than was written in the detailed report given at his trial, Claire knew without asking that John also had his doubts as to its validity and she hoped, in time, Jamie would open up enough to her that she could help him possibly clear his name.

“I’d really like to meet him, yer friend John. Even if thank you is all I have,” he whispered, “I’d still like to say it.”

“I can assure you, he’ll say the same as me.”

-- --- --

Claire went to the shops alone, leaving Jamie to rest on his own after their busy morning. Calling John on the way, she confirmed a good time and went on a hunt for something vaguely edible.

It was nice to be out, she soon realised, as the clean, cool air encased her. The supermarket wasn’t too busy and it was relaxing just wandering around with nowhere to be until later. Having not left the house in a couple of days, she’d been so desperate to make sure Jamie made an easy transition into her life that she’d failed to realise that they’d been cooped up for two whole days. It was unusual for her to have such freedom and she was grateful for the chance to just relax.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever catch you in the raw meat aisle.” John laughed as he approached Claire from behind making her jump a little.

“How on earth did you find me?”

Bringing his phone out of his pocket, he waved it in front of her and pointed to the open app with her live location. “Technology is quite scary these days!”

Leading up to Jamie’s release, John had suggested pairing their phones just in case he desperately needed to get hold of her and couldn’t, he’d presented it as a mere friend doing his duty, but truthfully he was worried in case they’d made a bad decision offering her home up to Jamie. If he turned out to be something more sinister.

“So are you, Grey.” She retorted, slapping the steak packet against his chest. “And what is wrong with my cooking?”

“All I’ll say is; it’s good it can be either rare or well done and still edible, eh!”

Taking her arm, they continued to meander around the shop, Claire putting various food items into the basket as they walked in companionable silence.

“When is your next shift?” He asked as they bagged the groceries.

“Not until the weekend now, I was going to go back tomorrow but I wanted to encourage Jamie to leave the flat without having some sort of meeting at the end of it...I just haven’t worked out how I’m going to do it yet.”

“I take it a trail of breadcrumbs is out of the question?”He quipped, taking the full bag and carrying it out to the car for her.

“He’s a little too smart for that trick, John. But thanks for the suggestion.”

“The real question is, is he staying in because he’s just getting used to being free again, or is he scared to leave. One is easier to sort than the other, of course.”

“I’ve seen trauma before, both physical and mental. I think it’s more mental. He’s definitely settled. He stopped asking if he could use the kettle pretty quickly and he cooked himself some dinner last night. “So he feels safe with you then, that’s good.”

“It’s this Randall guy, isn’t it? Does he work on the force in the city, do you know?” She hadn’t had the stomach to research the captain who’d locked Jamie away out of fear. John had said a few things about him, none of them painting him in a favourable way, and she got the distinct feeling he was close by, closer than she, John or Jamie would like. Word of his release wouldn’t have taken long to reach the ears of the man who’d caused the incarceration.

“It could be. Yes, he’s based here. He started his career in London and was posted here only a few years ago. I can’t work out whether it was a promotion, though, or as a way to get him far away from Scotland Yard. Anything that takes place inside the Met is incredibly well covered - especially if he found himself on the receiving end of an internal dispute.”

Rolling her eyes, Claire tried to concentrate on the road in front of her instead of the increased rate of her heart as it beat a punishing rhythm beneath her chest.

“They’re the nations protectors, anything dirty that could diminish their name or cause them disrepute is bound to be buried as deep as they can possibly dig. He’s a good negotiator, a talker…”

“Have you met him?”

“Not in the flesh, but we’ll have attended some events together you can bet. The important thing, Claire is to your own hands clean - leave anything public to me and whatever you do, don’t underestimate the man. Jamie will, hopefully, at some point talk to you about his ordeal, but it’s only been two days. I’m sure he won’t hide away forever.”

Something in her gut told her that John knew more than he was letting on, but if he was keeping it from her, she reasoned, it was probably for good reason. Reaching her flat in double quick time, they both dropped the conversation as Claire opened the front door and waved John in.

“Jamie,” she called out, “we’re back.” Forgetting for a moment that he had no idea she wasn’t alone.

They waited patiently in the kitchen, putting as much of the food away as they were able to until both were convinced that he wasn’t going to come out to greet them. It was only when the creek of the bedroom door echoed along the hall that Claire finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

“John met me out and we thought there’s no time like the present, are you alright?”

“Nice to meet you,” Jamie finally said as he bought himself into the open plan living room, “and thank ye, for spending yer free time looking into my case for me, I dinna think I can thank you enough for that, really.”

The men shook hands cordially and John looked Jamie over seriously for just a moment before nodding his head. “It’s my pleasure, it’s what I signed up for and I knew when Claire called me that it must be serious for her to have stepped in and contacted me for help.”

“I willna cause you to regret it, Mr Grey.”

“John, please, and I’m sure you won’t.”

Dinner was a quiet but pleasant affair. Where there had been small bursts of conversation between Claire and Jamie since he’d arrived, now there was a continuous buzz as Claire and John joked with one another, leaving room for Jamie to join in as and when he felt comfortable. She’d made lasagne and despite John’s jesting at her culinary skills, it turned out better than edible.

“Well, as stuffed and warm as I am I think I need to get home. I have a long trial starting tomorrow.” Patting his belly, John placed his napkin on the table and finished his glass of water. With Jamie’s parole stating that he wasn’t to be found under the influence of drugs or alcohol, Claire had removed everything from her cupboards determined to join in with the sobriety order.

“I’ll walk you out…” Jamie spoke up as Claire stood to clear the plates.

“Alright,” she continued, a grin lighting up her face at his offer, “don’t be a stranger!” Winking as she castigated John for his random absences in her life, she plucked the last of the plates from the table and began to load the dishwasher.

Walking side by side to the front door, John took his coat from the hook and wrapped his scarf around his neck. “I know it isn’t my place,” he began as he held eye contact, raised his brow and smiled to put Jamie at ease, “but I have an inkling, just as she does, that there’s something more to this story than meets the eye. Don’t let her fool you, she’s good at being strong - she’s had to be. But you both need to stick together. Open up to her because if you let her in, I think you’ll find you have no regrets.”

Holding his hand out, Jamie nodded before he took it.

With one step out of the door, he swivelled on his heels to face him. “Oh, and one more thing, if you need anything at all, please call me. I’ll try and help in any way I can.”

As Jamie returned to the lounge Claire was finishing up wiping the table. “Everything alright?”

“Aye, more than alright...thanks to you.”

Chuckling, she shook her head as she threw the cloth back into the sink. “I wondered why my ears were burning. I’m glad John found something positive to say. Normally he’s just shaking his head at my poor choices.”

“Do ye make many of those?”

Embarrassment coloured her for just a moment as she was reminded of the diploma sat gathering dust in her bottom draw. “One major one.” “I think yer doing pretty well if ye’ve only one, lass.”

Taking a seat on the extended corner sofa, Claire let her head fall backwards against the cushions and waited for Jamie to sit beside her. “My father was a doctor, a really bloody good one, he saved the moment I was born, putting all the money into various bonds and accounts to make sure that I had any and every option once I reached an age to be able to choose.” Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself as she ignored the tears welling in her eyes, his warm presence extinguishing the pain of the memories. “Him and my mum died just before I went to college and if John hadn’t been there, I don’t think I’d have made it this far.”

“I ken how it feels to lose a parent. Ye feel as if yer heart has been torn clean from your chest as the world crumbles around you.”

As lost to her own grief as she was, it felt good to learn something about him, for him to feel relaxed enough to open up to her.

“Does John want ye to be like yer father, then?” He guessed.

“Nearly right, but not quite. I did.” She confessed. “He’s disappointed that I don’t rise to my full potential.” Quoting John’s exact words to Jamie.

“You’re a doctor?”

“Yes.” Sighing, she smiled sadly as she turned to face him. “But I still can’t bear to hear anyone say it to me because that title, those words, always belonged to him and I don’t know how to take on his legacy, I don’t know whether I ever will.”

“I haven’t known you for very long, Claire, but I do know one thing - ye have the biggest heart. You took a chance on me after treating me wi’ such kindness in the hospital. So if yer worried about no’ meeting the standards he set for you, just look in the mirror and I’m sure you’ll be able to see what I can see, what I’m sure John sees too, and ken that yer father would be proud of the woman you’ve become.”

#anonymous #;Mod MBD #Deep Within The Darkness Peering #jamie and claire #outlander fanfiction

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three-drink-amy · 5 years

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Sweet Creature

Bonus chapter for the week! I’m finished writing the story, so I MAY change posting to twice a week if people were interested. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

master list - AO3

Chapter Thirteen

No one ever said that being in a long distance relationship was easy. It made it even less easy when said relationship is less than a month old. Jamie realized that it helped that they’d known each other for ten years. If they were a new couple, and completely new to each other, they’d be a mess trying to attempt long distance for an undetermined amount of time. But having their friendship to fall back on certainly had its perks.

They’d been doing well so far. It was only a couple of weeks in and they’d talked nearly every night. Claire had a lot to tell about the progress on the new store and Jamie was always eager to hear it. He may not be an official investor anymore, but he’d always been emotionally invested. There had been plenty of nights in the last two weeks that he’d skipped out on plans with other people because he thought there was a chance Claire would call him. And most nights, that’s what happened.

But even getting to talk to her that often, he couldn’t deny that he still missed her. It had only been a bit over a month that they’d been talking again. Even though they’d talked things out and now were onto a different phase of life together, he couldn’t help but worry that one day she’d just stop calling. Because of that, he probably always sounded too eager for her calls. He’d text her each evening when he was back from the office to let her know when he was free to talk. Maybe he was making himself too available, but he didn’t care. He needed Claire in his life. And that was just the way it had to work at the moment.

He was sitting in his office, counting down the minutes until he could leave and call Claire. It had been a rough day and he just needed to hear her voice. He texted her before he even left, trying to get a feel for how busy she was that day.

I’ll be working late. Sorry! I’ll call you when I’m walking back to my hotel. Chin up!

Jamie sighed, leaning back in his chair. He should be trying to look like he was busy, but he didn’t care enough to do so. John walked in and threw himself down in one of his chairs. “So I think everyone’s planning to go get drinks after this. You in?”

He looked down at his phone and reread the text from Claire. “Yeah,” he said with a grimace. “A stiff drink sounds good after today.”

John shook his head with a dark look. “I was thinking we could all get drunk and plan on how to properly assassinate St. Germain. Thoughts?”

Jamie grinned. “I canna see how that could go wrong.” John laughed, standing up to go back to his desk. “I’ll see ye in a few.”

There was a rather large group of his coworkers that ended up going out for drinks that evening. The raucous group sat at a small bar downing whisky like it was water. They were commiserating their shared terrible day before they went around each picking a different aspect of their boss to drag through the mud. It was just one of those days. But each drink somehow made Jamie miss Claire more. John sat next to him and caught on to how many times Jamie had been checking his phone.

“Waiting to hear from Claire?” John asked. He’d not so secretly been excited for Jamie’s new relationship. Jamie nodded, taking another drink. “I’m sure she’ll call. You said she always does.”

“She does. I just miss her,” Jamie groaned as he ran a hand down his face.

“That’s so cute,” John said. He flashed his friend a teasing look. “You’re just head over heels for her, aren’t you?” Jamie rolled his eyes. “I’m going to take that as a yes.” John leaned in closer. “And between you and me, I have to say that she’s the best one you’ve ever dated.”

Jamie smiled, nodding in agreement. “Ye dinna have to tell me that.”

They carried on drinking and eventually, it was John’s turn to get the next round. He vacated his spot next to Jamie. It was quickly filled by the last person Jamie wanted to talk to. He glanced over to see Annalise sitting next to him. Angling himself away, he turned to talk to the person on the other side of him. He hoped John would come and reclaim his seat. How the woman had never gotten the hint was beyond him. She tapped him on the shoulder and he rolled his eyes as he looked over at her.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, batting her eyelashes. He wondered how on earth he ever found her alluring. That had evaporated so fast.

“Just felt like chatting wi’ Marcus,” Jamie said with a gesture to the man on his left. He turned back but she tapped his shoulder again.

“You seem more down than everyone else here,” she pointed out.

“Aye, perhaps so,” he agreed. “I was just wishing my girlfriend could be here.”

Anger flashed in her eyes before she covered it up with a smile. “Well that’s her loss,” she said, her hand resting on his shoulder.

He scowled at her, shrugging off her hand before he walked over to the bar where John was standing. John grinned as he watched him approach. “I canna stand her,” Jamie said with a sigh.

“Sure, none of us can,” John agreed. “But to be fair, you did make that mess yourself.” Jamie glared at him. “I wanted to tell you she’d be nothing but trouble.”

“I wish ye had.”

“Are you telling me that no one tried to tell you that you were going down the wrong path?” John asked, one eyebrow raised.

“No, one person did,” Jamie admitted.

“Claire?”

“Yep.”

John burst out laughing. “Leave it to her to tell it to you straight only to have you make a pretty terrible mistake and have it ruin your work life.” He glanced back at Annalise. “I could have told you she’d be nothing but boring once you took the chase away.”

“I should ha’ known it on my own. She was just distracting in a way I hadna been in a while, so I thought that was something bigger,” Jamie confessed. “Twas wrong of me.”

“We all make mistakes, mate.”

Jamie sighed. “Ye dinna have to tell me that. Somehow I still feel like I’m paying for my last and biggest mistake.”

“What, the thing with Claire?” John asked. “Why do you think that? The two of you are literally dating now.”

“I dinna ken. I canna explain it,” Jamie replied, his face a bit crumpled.

“Have you talked to her about it?”

“Of course no’. We’re living in different cities presently. Tis hard to talk about those types of things over the phone. It’s probably just all in my head anyway. I think I’m just scared to lose her again. It was hard to be wi’out her before I confessed how I was feeling. Now...well I dinna think I could handle that,” Jamie said in a small voice.

John stared at him for a moment. “That kind of sounds like something you should talk about with your girlfriend. Don’t you think?”

“Maybe. I was thinking of going to Edinburgh and surprising her soon. I just dinna ken how busy she’d be on a weekend.”

“Well it’s not like you’re completely unhelpful,” John replied with a grin. “I’m sure you could help out if she had things to do.”

Jamie nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a fair point. I could.”

“Yeah, and then you could talk to your girlfriend about how much you love her and need her in your life.” Jamie shot him a look. “Communication is healthy, James.”

“Ye sound like my sister.”

“Can I ask you something?” Jamie raised a brow, encouraging him to continue. “When did you realize you loved her that way? Was it when you two weren’t speaking?”

Jamie took a drink of his whisky. He’d never even really told Claire about that. “I suppose I realized what it all meant when she wouldna talk to me. I always felt this odd possessiveness of her and was verra critical of anyone interested in her. She was always the standard that I judged the lasses I dated by, but I never took the time to think about why that might be. I dinna ken, but I’m sure if I sat down and really thought about it, I’d find that it has been a lot longer than just the last couple of months. I wish I’d slowed down and tried to think through what I was really feeling. Maybe then we wouldna be mere weeks into a relationship when she had to go to Edinburgh.” Jamie sighed, staring down at his glass. “I just truly had no idea that she felt that way for me.”

“You didn’t?”

Jamie glanced over at his friend. “Did ye think she did?”

John shook his head. “No, but I met her after years of you two being friends. I always just thought you were really close.”

“I guess I just never thought she’d want me,” Jamie admitted. “And so I never allowed myself to think about it. Just looked to other women instead of the one right next to me the whole time. I suppose I should have known by the fact that I was willing to bankroll her business.”

“That’s not really something you do for just a friend,” John agreed. “But you’re together now, right?”

Jamie nodded, still feeling a bit on edge. “Aye. We are.”

He felt his pocket vibrate and his face lit up as he pulled his phone out. Claire’s picture smiled up at him and he fumbled to answer. “Sassenach!”

“Hi, there! Not too late is it?”

“No’ at all!” He looked over at John, pointing to his phone. “I’ll see ye later, mate.”

“Bye,” John whispered.

“It sounds like you’re somewhere loud,” Claire said. “Where are you?”

Jamie paid his tab quickly. “Rough day at the office today, so a large group of us took over a pub nearby to drink our sorrows away,” Jamie explained as he finished paying.

“Well, I can just talk to you tomorrow,” Claire offered.

“No!” Jamie replied. “No, I’d much rather talk to ye. I just paid my tab and everything.” He walked out onto the quieter street, hoping he could hear her better. “So, how is the bakery going?”

On the other end, Claire was smiling at his quick dismissal of her offer to hang up. “It’s going well. Things are all coming together in a pretty way. It’s been a while since I did this part, you know.”

“Aye. But this is yer third time. Ye’re basically a pro by now,” Jamie insisted.

Claire laughed. “Well I don’t know about that.” She took a drink of water as she laid on the couch in her hotel room. “So, what was so bad about work today?”

Jamie groaned. “St. Germain was on one. He...hold on,” he cut himself off. Claire could hear something in the background. She narrowed her eyes as she tried to listen in closer.

Jamie heard his name being called and turned around on the sidewalk to see Annalise tearing after him. “You forgot your jacket!” she said as she caught up to him.

He grabbed it from her quickly. “Thanks.” Turning back to the way he was walking, he started talking to Claire again. A hand on his arm made him turn around again. Annalise was looking at him expectantly. “Can I help ye?”

“You just left so quickly. You didn’t even say goodbye,” she said, a flirtatious look on her face.

He pointed at his phone. “I’m on a call.”

“What’s going on?” Claire asked in one ear.

“You could always hang up and call back later,” Annalise suggested, trying to pull him back to the bar.

“Claire, hold on,” Jamie said into the phone. He held it to his shoulder as he turned to Annalise. “Just go on back to the bar. Or go home. But leave me alone, woman. I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that I’m no’ interested.”

Despite Jamie’s attempts to muffle his side of the call, Claire could still hear it.

“Twas one date, months ago. I think ye should realize that I’ve moved on. Perhaps ye should as well. Find someone else to play yer games because it willna be me anymore. Aye?”

He walked away before Annalise could reply. Putting the phone back to his ear, he sighed. “Sorry about that, what were we talking about?”

“Your work,” Claire reminded him.

“Ah, that’s right. St. Germain spent most of the afternoon tearing all of us to bits. So, some drinking was required after the evening,” Jamie explained. “I only agreed to go since ye said ye were working late.”

He continued on but Claire had spaced out a bit. She chimed in here and there when necessary, but wasn’t entirely present for the conversation. Long distance was hard for her, especially when all she wanted was the reassurance of Jamie’s arms around her. But right now, he was closer to the woman who was still trying to sink her claws into him. They talked for a while before Claire begged off, saying she had to get up early in the morning. Jamie understood and bid her goodnight, saying he hoped they’d have a chance to talk tomorrow. She muttered an agreement before hanging up the call. It wasn’t a total lie; she did have to get up in the morning. But sleep didn’t come easily to her. She couldn’t help but continuously picture her worst nightmare over and over.

The next day when Jamie texted to see if she was free, she lied.

* * *

Nine days and a lot of missed opportunities to talk to Claire later, Jamie was sitting at a bar with Joe. “I’m glad ye could meet me,” Jamie said, raising his glass slightly. “Been a bit lonely,” he added with a laugh. “So, how’s wedding planning going?”

Joe shook his head with a sigh. “You mean when Gayle actually asks me what I want for my wedding?”

Jamie laughed. “Have ye fought her on anything?”

“Not a damn thing,” Joe confessed. “Honestly, I haven’t cared. I just want her to want to include me. But things are slowing down significantly now.”

Jamie’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

“Well we set a date,” Joe told him. Jamie looked excited for them. “It’s in nineteen months.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Joe nodded, his lips forming a tight line. “Gayle found this castle and absolutely had to have the wedding there. I want her to have the wedding she wants, so I said sure. But the earliest they had, which was already a cancellation, was nineteen months from now.”

“That’s almost two years,” Jamie pointed out.

“Yeah, I know. I wish I had a better “Castle Guy.” But I didn’t look into one of those when I moved here,” Joe joked.

“Are ye okay wi’ that long an engagement?” Jamie asked hesitantly.

“Sure. I mean, in a lot of different ways, it already feels like we’re married. We’ve lived together since I moved to Scotland for medical school. We just decided a while back that we wouldn’t look at getting married until we were both established in our careers,” Joe said with a shrug. “So I feel pretty good about it. And if Gayle gets her dream venue, then that’s all the better. I know she can’t wait to invite people from the States to her wedding in a damn castle.”

Jamie laughed, taking a drink of his beer. “Canna beat that.”

“I guess I can tell Claire that she can slow down on her plans for my Stag Party,” Joe mused with an amused shake of his head. “Girl was saying just last night how she had such great ideas for it, no matter how many times I told her she doesn’t have to plan it.”

Joe was laughing but Jamie was fixated on what Joe had said. He cleared his throat. “Ye talked to Claire last night?”

The other man froze as he was about to put a pretzel in his mouth. “Yes.”

“Gotcha,” Jamie replied shortly. He picked up his beer and took a long drink. “If she talked to ye, I wonder why she texted me and said she was going to bed early and wouldna have any time to talk.”

Joe closed his eyes in a grimace. “So, how are you guys doing?”

Jamie shook his head. “I thought we were doing fine. Claire’s been plenty busy, but apparently, no’ as busy as she’s let on.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I just miss her and long distance is terrible. And there’s no definitive time that it’ll be over. But I thought we were good. I guess no’ if she’s dodging my calls.”

Joe sighed. “I’m sorry I said anything. I didn’t realize.”

“Dinna worry about it. I was thinking about going to Edinburgh to surprise her,” Jamie mentioned.

An odd look came over Joe’s face. “You might want to do that. I think that would be a good idea.”

Jamie picked up on his tone and narrowed his eyes at the other man. “What do ye ken that I dinna?”

“Nothing!” Joe exclaimed with an unconvincing shrug. Jamie stared at him until he caved. “Look, she just said something to me yesterday.”

“What did she say?” Jamie asked, leaning across the table.

“Just that she...had some doubts,” Joe explained, clearly feeling uncomfortable.

“Doubts?” Jamie cried. “What doubts? About our relationship?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t explain. It was said one time and when I tried to press her on it, she clammed up and said that she shouldn’t have mentioned it,” Joe told him. “But whatever it is, that might be why she’s been weird about taking your calls.”

Jamie sighed, his head hanging in his hands. “I’m racking my brain right now trying to figure out what I’ve done wrong.”

“There’s no guarantee it’s you,” Joe reminded him. “She didn’t say what it was.”

“But it was about our relationship?”

Joe’s face scrunched as he nodded. “I guess. Maybe.”

Jamie shook his head, feeling helpless. “If I go to Edinburgh, am I going to be broken up with?”

“No!” Joe said emphatically. “No, that would be silly.” He looked at Jamie with a pointed expression. “I think you should go and spend some time together. I think it would be good for the both of you.”

Jamie released a large sigh. “Maybe so.”

* * *

Friday night came and Claire was relieved to have the weekend to relax. She walked into her hotel room and threw her bag down on the floor before laying down on the couch. It felt good to just stop moving for a bit. Feeling her phone in her back pocket, Claire dug it out and looked at it. Her lockscreen was a picture of her and Jamie. She stared at his face for a long time, pressing the button again each time it went dark. Finally, she felt the urge to return all his missed calls from the last week or so. Even though she felt guilty, she didn’t know how to call him when she was as nervous about their relationship as she was. Given how well he knew her, she knew he’d pick up on her hesitance. So, instead, she just didn’t call him. She’d texted him a few times throughout the days, though they were mostly replies to his messages.

But this time, her need to hear his voice drowned out her fears. She called him, getting antsy as the line started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Jamie!” she cried. “God, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“Sassenach, how are ye?” he asked. Something seemed off about his voice, but she thought maybe he’d just had a long day.

“Doing alright. I just got home from the bakery. Well, not home home. I got back to my hotel,” she said. A horn honked on his end of the call. “Where are you?”

“Walking home from work,” he said. “How’s the bakery coming?”

“It’s good. I miss you, though.” She wished she could see his face.

“Aye, I do too,” he agreed, a sad tone to his voice. “Out of curiosity, if I were to send ye something, what is yer room number?”

Claire smiled to herself. “What are you sending me?”

“Room number, woman!” he repeated, his voice a bit lighter.

She laughed. “It’s 743.”

“Aye, thank ye. Tell me more about how everything’s coming,” he pressed.

“Going well. We’ve hired a staff though they won’t officially start for a bit yet. We’re still in the construction stage. But I’m trying to work ahead and have everything that we need ready for when I need to start with the staff training.” She continued on, only stopping when there was a knock at her door. “Hold on. Someone’s at the door.”

Claire jumped up, surprised beyond belief when it was Jamie on the other side of the door. “Oh my god, you’re here?” He grinned as he nodded in reply. She threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him. Drawing him in over the threshold, she hugged him tightly. A thump against the floor drew her back as he tossed his bag just inside the door. “God, I’ve missed you,” she said, cupping his cheeks. “It’s so bloody good to see you.”

Jamie nodded, quieter than usual. “Aye, and ye.”

“What made you decide to come?”

An odd look crossed his face. “Well, I’d been thinking of it for a bit. I missed ye. But I ken ye’ve been verra busy, so I wasna sure when the right time would be.” He walked further into the room. “I had drinks wi’ Joe the other night and he seemed to think it was a good idea. Especially after something you’d said to him the night before.” He turned and looked at her, a strained expression coloring his face. “Which I believe was one of the nights ye told me ye couldna talk because ye were going to bed so early. Which was actually just one time in a string of instances where ye couldna call. But apparently, ye can talk to Joe.”

Claire closed her eyes, grimacing. “Jamie,” she started.

He kept going. “Joe seemed to think ye were having doubts,” he added, staring her down, daring her to agree. She opened and closed her mouth, no sound coming out. “I thought it was odd to hear it from him. Ye see, I figured when ye and I got together, it would be perfect because we already tell each other everything. But I suppose that’s no’ true.”

Her arms came around her torso, trying to hold in her emotions. “Jamie, it’s nothing, really.”

“Joe didna seem to think so.” He took a small step closer to her. “What is it? Is it me?”

Claire had really hoped she’d get over her doubts on her own before she ever had to talk to Jamie about them. And as she stared at the pain plain on his face, she wished she’d never said anything to Joe. “No, it’s just…I don’t know how to explain it.” In reality, she didn’t know how to articulate it to him.

“I’d think ye’d be able to talk to me. We’ve been friends for ten years, Claire,” Jamie reminded her.

“Yeah, that’s the problem!” she cried.

Jamie recoiled, looking stunned. “What?”

She shook her head, wishing she’d gone about this differently. “Yes, we have been friends for ten years which means that I have watched a number of your relationships from the sidelines. And all I could think about was how each of them ended so quickly. Then, I just...I couldn’t help but wonder when our expiration date would be.”

“Wow,” Jamie breathed. He seemed a bit deflated. “What, ye seriously thought I’d just ditch ye? Call it quits? And then what, just walk away from ye?”

“I don’t know,” she answered timidly. “I just couldn’t see how I was any different from any of them.”

Jamie gaped at her. “Of course ye’re different!”

“How?”

“Because I love ye!” he yelled. He took a step back, running a hand down his face. Claire stared at him, shocked by his admission. He seemed almost as surprised. “Do ye really think I’d just leave? It’s you, Claire. Ye’re my best friend.”

“Jamie, I -”

“I spent the last couple of days trying to imagine what it was that was giving ye doubts. I didn’t realize I’d be answering for my past,” he said, looking anywhere but at her. “I mean, is that what ye really think of me?”

She could feel tears stinging her eyes as she shook her head.

“But it is though, isn’t it? I mean, ye believed me to be the type of man who would bring ye to a party solely to make another woman jealous. Ye thought I only wanted to bring ye breakfast the morning after our first date to — how did ye put it — rack up enough dates to reach a proper number to get in yer pants. And now this. Ye really think I’m just going to give up and leave after a certain amount of time?” Jamie stared at her, his hurt showing. “If that’s the man ye truly think I am, how have we even been friends all this time?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Those relationships were short because I could tell soon enough into them that they werena right for me. Would it no’ have been worse to string them along and lead them on?”

Claire stood there silently, tears starting to fall.

Jamie shook his head and took a step toward the door. “I should go.”

She jumped in front of the door before he could make it there. “No!” she said, standing her ground. “Look, Jamie, I’m sorry. I handled this the wrong way. I should have talked to you. But I just —” she took a deep breath “— I just got scared. Okay? After ten years we’re at this new phase of our relationship and it’s exciting. But I didn’t know how you really felt. And I’ve been sitting with these feelings a lot longer than you have.”

Jamie let out a breath. “That’s no’ fair. Ye canna put that on me. Ye never told me how ye felt.”

Claire scoffed. “Yeah, like it would have made any difference.”

He shook his head, throwing his arms out. “Of course it would have! It would have made all the difference in the world!” He gaped at her. “Do ye really think I would have been wi’ any of them if I knew I could have been wi’ ye?” he asked, his voice dramatically lower.

She had no response. They were on opposite sides of the room, with more than just space standing between them. Tears were falling down her face in earnest. They were glistening in his eyes as well. She hated the way she’d hurt him with her own avoidance.

Eventually, it was as if he lost all energy. He collapsed on the couch, a sigh escaping him. “What can I do?”

“What?”

He looked up at her. “What can I do to prove to ye that I’m no’ going anywhere?”

Her heart broke at the vulnerable look on his face. He was terrified and she could see it. She shook her head vehemently. “Jamie, there’s nothing.”

“So, ye’re telling me that ye’re having doubts about me but there’s no’ a thing I can do to fix it?”

Claire bridged the gap between them, sitting down next to him on the couch. “Jamie, I mean there’s nothing you have to do. This is my issue.”

“Tis no’ just yers, Claire,” he reminded her. “Ye stopped talking to me because of this. That’s no’ just yers anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe away her tears. “Believe me, I am.”

He wasn’t looking at her. “Aye, I ken ye are.” They sat in a heavy silence for a long moment. His head turned slightly toward her, still not meeting her gaze. “I meant it though, what can I do?”

“There’s nothing you have to do,” she repeated. He looked over, an almost angry expression on his face. “Being here — coming to see me because you missed me — that’s enough. I promise.”

He nodded, looking down at his clasped hands. “How long have ye felt this way?” He finally glanced over at her, making eye contact. “It was before ye came here, wasn’t it?”

Claire cleared her throat. “Just a bit. It got worse with separation.”

“It was that night in my flat, wasn’t it?” he asked.

She shook her head in disbelief. “How did you -”

“Ye panicked. Ye froze,” he recalled. “And then ye asked to take things slower. And trust me, I was more than fine wi’ that. I could tell something bothered ye, but ye wouldna say what it was. I was terrified that I did something to upset ye.”

Claire bridged the final gap between them, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm. “Jamie, you did nothing. I got up in my head at the exact wrong time. I just knew that if...if we crossed that final line, and then you left, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

His hand moved to cover hers as he nodded. A long silence filled the room. Claire gripped his arm before she started to speak again. “I love you,” she whispered. He turned to her, a soft and vulnerable look on his face. “That’s why I got so scared. Because I love you. And I’ve felt this way for a long time, but this is only the first time I’ve actually said it out loud.” She laughed to herself. “Well, technically second, but you were unconscious the first time after your accident.”

Claire took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for hurting you so much. It kills me. I guess I got used to talking about my feelings with Joe and keeping it all a secret from you.” Jamie chuckled before she reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. “But I promise you that I won’t do that again. I mean, I may talk to Joe, but no more secret feelings. I promise you that if I start to get nervous again, you’ll be the person I go to.”

Jamie leaned his forehead against hers. “I would appreciate that. But just know, I’m no’ going anywhere.” His fingers tapped against her hand that still rested on his arm. “I love ye, too,” he whispered. He pulled back a bit to look her in the eye. “I’m sorry for yelling it at ye the first time I ever said it.”

Claire laughed, despite all that had happened. She leaned closer, letting him close the distance between them. Much to her relief, he did so quickly, pressing his lips to hers. Her hands moved to wrap around his neck as she scooted closer to him. His hand held her cheek, keeping her there. Weeks of long distance woes and the fight they’d had weighed into the kiss, making both of them a bit desperate. He parted his lips, granting her access which she happily accepted. Her fingers wove through his hair. They moved closer and closer together til her legs were draped over his.

She broke away from him with a look as she reached for the hem of her shirt. To her surprise, Jamie reached out to stop her. “Claire, no.” Before she could feel embarrassed, he continued. “No’ like this,” he whispered. “No’ because ye feel guilty.”

“What if that’s not why?” she asked. “What if I’m just ready?”

“I’m no’ ready right now,” he told her, flashing her pleading eyes. “I feel I’d always second guess it. Whether ye were actually ready or whether ye felt it was the best way to apologize for what happened. And that’s no’ how I want it to be for us.”

She let go of her shirt, leaning back into him and giving him a quick kiss. “I suppose that makes a lot of sense. Damn you.” He grinned, kissing her again quickly. “So, what do you propose we do instead? Dinner?”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That sounds good. Or perhaps — if ye wanted to, of course — ye could show me the bakery.”

One of her hands came to rest on his cheek. “You really want to see it?”

His hand held hers. “Of course I do.”

She smiled broadly, giving him one last kiss. “Well then, let’s go.”

Her hand held his the entire journey to the bakery site. He didn’t mind at all. It had been too long since he’d been afforded such a luxury. She chattered away about what to expect and what stage of development the store was in. Their pace slowed as they got closer to the store. Claire dug out her keys and let them into the dark building.

She walked around and turned on the construction lamps that were scattered throughout the store. As more and more lights turned on, Jamie stood in awe of the store before him. Familiar colors greeted him as he turned to look around. “How does this look so much like the original shop?”

Claire smiled, walking back over and tucking herself back into his side. “You caught that, did you?”

“Would be hard not to.”

She nodded thoughtfully, looking around. “Well, I found the original plans for the store and gave them to the people in charge here. They seemed to think it was doable. So, here we are. It’s still got a long way to go, but -”

“It looks great,” Jamie said on a breath. “Truly.”

Claire looked up at him. “You think so?”

Jamie kissed her temple. “I really do. It’s like I’m standing back in Glasgow.” He laughed to himself. “Actually, it feels like it’s six years ago. Like ye’re showing me the shop for the first time.”

She smiled to herself. “You were the only one I’d let see it.”

“Well, that was surely just because of the money.”

Claire shook her head, leaving a kiss at his jaw. “No, it wasn’t.”

Jamie curled her in closer, kissing her head. “It looks great. All yer hard work has really been paying off.”

“Thank you,” she sighed. “I mean the hardest part is really the training, so we’ll see.”

“It’ll work. Ye’re too brilliant for it no’ to,” Jamie assured her.

“You’re biased.”

He laughed, turning to face her. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her hard on the mouth. “I’m no such thing.”

She showed him around the bakery as much as they could with minimal lighting. Soon, they shut off all the lights and went to find a place to eat. Neither of them felt very picky so they found a place quickly. A couple of hours were spent enjoying drinks, dinner, and the other’s company. Jamie’s hand rarely left Claire’s. They sat as close to each other as their table allowed, both just glad to be together.

It was a beautiful evening as they walked back to Claire’s hotel, his arm around her shoulders, her arm around his waist. As they entered the lobby of the hotel, they immediately walked toward the elevator. Jamie stopped, turning back toward the desk. Claire gave him a confused look. “I need to check into my room.”

Her brow furrowed. “You got a room?”

Jamie took a step closer to her. “Well, I didna want to be presumptuous.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “It wouldn’t be that presumptuous. You were coming to visit your girlfriend.”

“Still.”

Claire rolled her eyes with a grin. “You don’t need that room. Wait here.” She ignored him as he asked her what she was going to do. Claire walked up to the front desk and plastered on her best smile. “Hi,” she said, grabbing the woman’s attention. “I had a friend that was coming to visit me, but at the last minute it fell through. He asked if I could cancel his room for him.”

“Of course, ma’am. What was the name?”

“James Fraser.”

The woman typed away at the computer before looking up to Claire with a smile. “All taken care of. Anything else I can help ye wi’?”

“Not a thing. Thank you!” Claire replied, matching the woman’s smile. As Claire walked back to Jamie, her smile became more smug. “All taken care of,” she parroted. Jamie rolled his eyes at her as he draped his arm back around her. “Got a second room,” she muttered to herself, elbowing him in the side. “We’ve shared a room before.”

“That was verra different, Sassenach,” Jamie defended.

Claire curled into Jamie’s side, scoffing. “We’re two mature adults. I think we can share a bed.”

Next chapter

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #my writing #sweet creature

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irenedonnee · 5 years

Text

At Last 6. Home Again

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long before posting this chapter! Thank you @cozyweatherlover and @stessrene on twitter for the beta!

Claire thought a lot about where she was going to bring Jamie for their wee trip in the Highlands. She didn’t want it to be too romantic -- after all they had never talked about their first kiss again -- and she didn’t want it to be impersonal. She determined where she would bring him while reading the papers a few days before they left.

She called to make sure there would be a vacancy for them. Fortunately, someone had cancelled and there was a free room with a king sized bed and bay windows on the Bens. She was sure Jamie was going to be happy about it until she put her suitcase in the back of the car. She started to worry he might not want to go there and would think it was bold of her to rent this room without asking him first. It was too late to go back now. Glenna was waiting in the car.

“You’re ready?” Jamie asked, coming out of the store with a small suitcase.

“Yes,” she forced a smile and put all worries behind her. “Are you bringing your typewriter?”

He shook his head and she went to help him carry the suitcase to her car. “Thank you and no, I’ll leave the typewriter here. Just a wee notebook and a pen should be enough.”

Once they were ready to leave, Claire sat behind the wheel of the blue car and started the engine. Jamie sat next to her and looked at her with a big smile. “It’s very nice of you… To bring me wi’ ye on a wee trip.”

She smiled back at him. “Of course. It’ll be so much more fun with you. And you know the place, don’t you?”

“I havena lived in the Highlands in a verra long time. Besides, I dinna remember enough to tell you about places. Maybe a few stories and legends, but nothing more.”

“Well, that’s a beginning,” she smiled and started driving towards the road.

The place Claire had rented wasn’t far from Inverness, but she took the longest road. She was in no hurry to get there.

Jamie could feel she was tense, but he thought maybe driving made her nervous or perhaps nauseous. His mother always felt sick in cars. He wanted to ask if she’d rather be sitting on the passenger seat, but he knew fine well it was impossible. Not with his damaged leg. Once more, he cursed in his head, tired of the trouble brought by this injury. He really hoped time would make it better, but he wasn’t expecting it to heal at all.

“Are you okay?” Jamie asked, looking at her, worried.

“Yeah,” she smiled, pretending everything was fine. “The landscape is so pretty!”

“Yes,” he agreed, not convinced by her answer. He was starting to know her quite well and if there was one thing he first noticed about her -- something that often amused him -- was her glass face. “Do you want to stop by the road and eat something?”

“I’m not quite hungry, but if you are-” she reached with her free hand for the bag containing food from Mrs Graham, but he stopped her.

“No need, I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just thought maybe you were.”

“No, I’m fine,” she answered and an awkward silence fell between the two of them.

It wasn’t until Jamie saw the place that he understood what was going on. He froze and didn’t say a word, only stared in front of him as she entered the parking lot.

When she saw his reaction, Claire regretted making the decision to rent a room there. She felt stupid for assuming he would ever want to go back to Lallybroch after all those years.

“Is this… the place we’ll be staying for the night?” Jamie asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yes,” she mumbled. She tried to hide her crimson red cheeks by looking straight in front of her, hoping he wouldn’t notice her embarrassment. She parked the car and Jamie got out, leaving the passenger door opened.

She watched him walk to the building, looking around, an unreadable expression on his face. She finally decided to get out of the car and join him. He didn’t hear her come to stand behind him. Finally, a middle aged woman walked out of the main door. “Ye must be Claire Beauchamp!”

She cleared her throat before answering. “Yes, that’s me,” she said in a low voice.

“Welcome to Lallybroch! I am Mrs Fitz, the one ye spoke to on the phone,” the woman smiled at her warmly and invited them in. Jamie followed, not paying attention to what the owner said. “Right at the end of this hallway, there is the kitchen and the dining room where ye can come enjoy your meals. They will be ready by eight in the morning. Now, follow me upstairs, I’ll show ye to yer room.”

Claire looked over her shoulder at Jamie as he looked around, his jaw clenched. Feeling her eyes well up with tears of disappointment, Claire tried to pay attention to what Mrs Fitz was saying to stop thinking about Jamie for a moment.

“The painting on the walls were made by the first Lady who ever lived in Lallybroch, when the castle was established in 1702.”

Claire looked over them absentmindedly. It seemed like the way to their room was unending. “There!” Mrs Fitz finally said, stopping in front of the door. “Ye’re room 1753. Every room number is after a special event that happened to the inhabitants of the castle and the surrounding lands. 1753 is the year when the Dun Bonnet -- an outlaw, and the son of one of the Laird’s-- was captured by the English soldiers and sent to prison for participating in the Jacobite rebellions. The legend says he spent six years living in a cave nearby. He was alone except for maybe once or twice a month, when he came to bring food he hunted for his family.” Mrs Fitz smiled at them.

As much as Claire usually enjoyed history and learning about the legends in Scotland, now was not the right time. The owner didn’t seem to notice their disposition.

She opened the door and Claire stepped into the room. The walls were covered with blue flowered tapestries, frames, and paintings with vases and two brown leather couches by the fireplace. Claire had to admit the view was breathtaking. “I’ll send my grandson to bring ye yer luggage,” she smiled and closed the door behind her.

A heavy silence fell in the room and Claire immediately regretted Mrs Fitz’s departure.

She was standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed on her chest and didn’t dare look at Jamie although she could feel his eyes on her.

“You bloody well say something,” she finally said.

It took a few seconds before he did say something. “Ye kent we were coming here? Ye spoke to the owner?”

“Yes… I saw an ad in the newspaper and I thought… Well we were planning on traveling in the Highlands so I thought-” she hadn’t heard him walk to her and was surprised by his lips on hers.

When they pulled away, she finally looked up at him to see his eyes filled with love and tenderness.

“You’re not mad?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Mad? No, Claire, I’m… I’m speechless, aye. Because nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before,” he smiled.

“I thought maybe you’d be happy to visit your ancestral home.”

“And ye were right. I am beyond happy.” He held her gaze and bent down to kiss her again. This time, she kissed him back, throwing her arms around his neck and pushing her body against his.

“Your luggage, Mrs Beauchamp,” a young teenage boy with blond hair entered the room with their two bags. “Oh,” he said, when he saw the couple kissing.

Surprised, Claire pulled back from Jamie, putting her finger on her mouth, still feeling the warmth of his lips on hers.

“Ian, laddie!” they heard Mrs Fitz scream from down the stairs, “how many times have I told ye not to go into our guest’s room wi’out knocking first!”

His cheeks turned crimson red as he looked up at them. “Sorry,” he whispered, leaving the luggage by the door before storming out of the room. When the door was closed, Jamie and Claire looked up at each other and burst out laughing.

“Weel…” Jamie chuckled silently.

“Do you want to visit the house?” She asked him.

“Aye.”

Claire had never heard Jamie talk so much since she first met him. While they walked around the house, he showed her places he remembered, despite being very young when they left Lallybroch. She was surprised by all the things, all the little details, he could remember.

Her hand in his, he walked her around, showing her the little places he liked to hide as he played and he told her how he liked to dress up as a knight to fight to protect the castle.

“I can see where your imagination comes from,” Claire smiled as they stepped out of the house.

“Aye,” he grinned, looking around the lands surrounding Lallybroch. “And my mother had a verra big library wi’ all kinds of books from everywhere around the world. You saw it. Most of her books are still there, she didna bring them all the way to America,” he smiled.

They walked around and he brought her to a little cemetery behind the house. “My father is buried here. Alongside my brother.”

Claire saw his name written on the grave.

William Simon Murtagh MacKenzie Fraser

1909-1914

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“He died before I was born. I always… I always wish I had the chance to know him.”

Claire put a free hand on his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “I know,” she whispered.

He put his hand on hers and sighed. He knew she understood, she had lost her parents when she was very young. She knew what it was like to wonder how different life would have been if his father and brother had not died.

“It’s getting dark outside and I think it will rain soon. We should go back inside.”

Mrs Fitz was waiting for them in the kitchen with a hot supper. They sat at a small table and she put a plate of haggis in front of them. Jamie smiled at her and thanked her. When she left for the kitchen, he saw Claire looking at the meat in her plate.

“Haggis,” he smiled.

“Oh,” she forced a smile.

“You never had haggis? In all the time you’ve been in Scotland?”

Her cheeks turned pink and he had to keep a straight face. She was adorable.

“Well, no… I never thought it looked quite… uh… tasty,” she whispered.

He chuckled. “It’s quite good, once you accept what it is.”

“What is it?” she frowned and he realized he had said too much.

“Oh, well… Just meat. Eat now,” he smiled and took a bit. It was delicious, the first time he ate haggis in a very long time. When he lived in New York, his mother would cook Scottish food from time to time, but it never tasted like this. “Mmm,” he said, “that’s good.”

Claire didn’t look very convinced, but she took a very little bite. He watched as her face went from disgusted to a surprised appreciation. “It’s not bad,” she said and took another, bigger bite.

“See, yer a real Scot,” he tried to wink at her, making her smile.

Mrs Fitz came back with dessert and sat with them while Jamie told her he used to live here with his mother. She was surprised to hear his story and listened as he talked about the years before she moved in. She explained how she had come to buy the castle and he listened carefully.

“I’m glad that Lallybroch fell in the hands of someone like ye,” he smiled. “This house… It’s been in my family for generations. Since it was built. But I see you have respect for the past and the history of the house.”

“Aye,” Mrs Fitz said, pleased to hear it. “And yer welcome to come anytime ye want! I think we can manage a deal for the rent of the room.” Her cheeks were pink and her eyes shining. She was an adorable woman and both Jamie and Claire felt welcome to come back.

After a long talk with the new owner, Claire and Jamie went back to their room. “I think I’ll go wash,” she said and went into the bathroom.

Jamie changed into his pajamas and lied down on the bed in the dark. He remembered the last time he’d been in this room. He was four years old and just had a nightmare. He remembered running from his room to his mother’s and climbing in her bed. He had been scared to death, but after she realized it was her little boy, she had let him sleep in her very big bed with her.

He was so happy to be back. For so many years, during the war, when he was freezing to death in trenches or foxholes, he had longed for home. When he thought about home, he never thought about the apartment he shared with his mom and Jenny, but the old castle in the scottish Highlands. He knew he would never go back and his heart would break all over again.

Jamie always felt this house was the only memory he had of his father. Brian Fraser was born here and lived all his life here. Jamie would imagine him reading by the fire or working in the field. He would imagine him sitting with them during supper. He always wanted to come back and now he understood why.

Jamie listened to the water running in the bathroom and tried not to imagine Claire in the bath. He couldn’t believe she had done this for him. He knew there was a chance that maybe he didn’t want to see this house again, but she had called Mrs Fitz, taking the chance. He smiled to himself and all doubts that Claire didn’t love him were gone.

Because of her, he had made peace with his past. He had let go of his demons and had turned to see the new day ahead of him. She had given him a reason to live - more than just inspiration for his novels. And now, she had given him the chance to make peace with his father’s death, with a childhood he had always craved after it had been stolen from him. The last thing he needed to deal with in order to heal.

He heard the door open and his blood froze in his veins. It was dark in the room, he could only see the shadow of her in her dressing gown walking to the bed. She sat next to him, looking deep into his eyes. She smiled, putting a hand on his cheek.

“Claire…” he whispered. His voice was hoarse.

“Yes?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Her eyes softened and she smiled, bending her head to kiss him. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips and deepened the kiss. She pushed him on his back and straddled him.

“Claire,” he whispered, gently pushing her away.

“What?” she asked. He looked into her eyes and saw they were filled with tenderness, the moonlight reflecting on her white velvet skin.

“I’ve never… uh…”

“You’re a virgin?”

He blushed and nodded. “And I dinna ken with my leg how I can-”

She interrupted him with a deep, noisy kiss on his mouth. He moaned lightly as she bit his lower lip. Her hands reached to his shirt and she lifted it over his head, before letting her hands travel down on his chest, goosebumps rising on his skin. She helped him take off his pants and looked at him, biting her lower lip. He blushed, not used to have a woman look at him this way.

“Well,” he said, breathless.

She looked up at him and smiled. She opened the belt of her gown and slowly let it fall off her shoulders.

“Christ,” Jamie said looking at her, his blue eyes turned black. “Claire, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

It was her turn to blush. She bent her head to kiss him again. He kissed her back, his hands caressing from her back to her breasts and her bare bottom.

Jamie moaned when she took hold of his throbbing cock and guided him to her. She sat down on him looking at his face as she did so. He closed his eyes and opened them when she started to ride him slowly.

Her hands were in his hair and his arms were around her, bringing her closer to him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, groaning and biting her skin as she moved faster.

He didn’t last very long with all the wee noises she was making and cried out her name. They stayed in each other’s arms for a moment until she rolled on her side, looking at him a big smile on her face. “Was it like you thought it would be?” she asked sheepishly.

He smiled, looking up at her with pink cheeks. “Better,” he said, putting an untamed curl behind her ear. She kissed him and fell asleep in his arms.

Jamie woke her up some time later and they made love again, always looking in the other’s eyes. It was the most romantic and erotic moment of their lives and they both wished this perfect night would never end. Even if they knew it was just the start of something beautiful.

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jack-andthestalk · 5 years

Text

Our Son, Arc II, Eggs. Chapter 15.

So this chapter was probably one of the first things I plotted when I thought of an Arc II for Our Son, there is a lot I want to say about the thought behind it but I will wait until the story is finished. Anyway...I was just as excited to get @balfeheughlywed seal of approval, I never move forward without her. I was equally excited that @notevenjokingfic approved and I hope @ladyviolethummingbird will forgive me for not waiting on her to wake up before posting this.

“Alright,” I said after a reasonable amount of time on Jamie’s lap, “let me get you something to eat, we will need to pick up Willie soon and once he has gone to bed later we can talk a bit more.”

I quickly scooped up the glass, and set a hurried pace as I gathered fruit and vegetables from the fridge to prepare a salad

I needed to insert some space between Jamie and me until we had a chance to talk later. The way not only Jamie’s hands were roaming in the past few minutes made me acutely aware that I would end up hoisted on the kitchen table with my legs spread and my yoga bottoms around my ankles if I didn’t put a halt to our contact. At least until I had spoken properly to him. There was a need between us both, to repair our broken link. I could feel it building in Jamie, I understood it.

So many people had come between us in the past few months, we just simply needed to know only each other, shut out the rest of the world. I just couldn’t allow myself to go there yet.

I could feel Jamie’s gaze on my back as I chopped strawberries and put them into a bowl, the scrape of the chair signalling that he was on the move, soft footsteps closing in on the short space between him and me.

“Ya ken” he whispered softly into my ear, “I am not so interested in food just now Sassenach.” Warm hands settled on my hips, palms spread so that his fingers could seek flesh under the hem of my t-shirt. My body buzzed from the contact, and I couldn’t help but tilt my head slightly to allow him better access to my neck. A repeated message from my mind. Not yet, sobering my body’s eager movements.

I turned my head around to look into his eyes, trying to release a warning stare, but I was met with Jamie’s eyes sparkling with happiness and love, I found myself sighing and sinking deeper into his touch.

His voice was gravelly when he murmured against my neck “have ye any idea how badly I want ye?” his honest unbidden declaration made me want to unzip him there and then, push him to the floor and take him inside me.

There could be no satisfying our obvious want of each other until we could talk and I wanted more than the thirty minutes we had left until school pick up, to do that.

I extradited myself from his embrace.

“Food,” I repeated sternly

Jamie pressed his lips in a playful smirk and waggled a finger at me “ah ah, I dinna want to eat food.” The emphasis on what he did want to eat, lying vacant in the room.

He pulled me by the hips so my back was against his chest again, his chin comfortably resting on my shoulder.

“Jamie” I whined, but it came out as more of an exasperated giggle “will you stop.” I wriggled a little to escape his grasp but that only heightened things, unperturbed his hand roamed down and cupped one cheek of my arse, kneading it appreciatively. His other hand dipped further into the waist of my yoga pants, and I let out a yelp, stopping him in his tracks.

“Jamie c’mon!”

The urgency in my tone meant it came across more irritable than I intended and he stopped still in his tracks. Turning me in his arms to face him, - “what’s wrong Claire?”

My heart pounded hard against my ribs, as I tried to decide if I should tell him, Jamie watched me cautiously waiting for me to say something, say anything that explained why I didn’t want his hands on me.

In the end, I chickened out, I lowered my gaze seeking for some truth ‘- I’m sorry – it’s just – so much has happened, I suppose I am just getting used to you being here again.” Deceit coated my mouth, and I stumbled over the words, making them sound brasher, less like me.

Our eyes met, his creased with concern but he seemed to accept what I was saying, he nodded slowly, his adam's apple bobbing against the long line of his neck as he swallowed.

“I’m sorry I dinna mean to -” he left the rest unsaid and pushed away from me resuming his seat at the kitchen table, - his face was full of hurt at my rebuttal, and I cursed myself for not being completely honest.

Instead, I closed my eyes for only a moment and went to him, tilting his chin up to me I kissed him, allowing my tongue to chase the plumpness of his bottom lip teasingly, “it's not that I don’t want you” – I said smiling and a little breathless sometime later, “I just want us to have time.”

I could feel the heat of his skin pressed to my forehead and could make out a wide smile replacing the hard-pressed line of his lips. “Aye, I should like to take my time too.”

________

Later when we picked Willie up from School, I wasn’t sure which broke my heart more. Whether, it was the sight of Willie’s mouth agape, elation flooding his face at seeing Jamie, the solid roar of ‘Da – followed by a sob “I missed ye so much” as he sprinted down the school path into Jamie’s waiting arms”. Or if it was the way Jamie scooped him up, clenching Willie tight to his chest before kissing his eyes, nose and lips, making loud smacking noises that usually would have earned a reprimand from his son ‘tis mbarrasing Da’

Not this time though, any abashed feelings were wholly absorbed by their relief at being reunited. Jamie’s eyes flooded with tears and he burrowed his head into Willie’s neck, just as he had done with me that morning, the hustle and bustle of the school gates washing over them as they stayed locked in their embrace.

They only broke apart when Willie became overwhelmed with the need to tell his father, all things that had been racing through his mind since their last conversation, things he only trusted Jamie to ask,

Have ye been to Scotland?” Is Donas ok?

“Did Grandda mow the meadow at the back?

“Has Grannie bought me the new wellies – with the long back so I can wade into the water when we go fish’n again?

“How many planes did ye take to get here?”

“Did ye bring me something?”

“Why did ye cut yer hair Da?”

Willie didn’t pause in between to allow Jamie to answer, just let one question run until the next. I prized him from Jamie’s grasp, landing him square between the two of us and offering him a hand each. “Let's get you home, and some food in your belly and then Da can go through your questionnaire ok?”

Willie nodded happily, swinging his legs up in the air after Jamie and I counted to the three each time.

___

As soon as we got home, the door shut behind us, I felt myself relax, the bound up tension in my shoulders eased as I watched Jamie and Willie drop coats on hangers and kick shoes to one side, the simple domesticity of my little family moving about the apartment lightened my heart and made me feel ridiculously warm inside. Their incessant chatter and horse play filled the air with a kind of joy that could be found in happy homes, and for the first time since Hellwater, I felt like we could have one together.

I found myself watching them from the kitchen door with my hip propped against the frame, Jamie caught my eye taking the two strides across to me, he gently massaged my shoulder blade, kissing me tenderly. “Why dinna ye take a bath or – a rest, I’ll fix Willie something to eat.” He lowered his head and looked up at me through his lashes coyly, “I think I have caused enough upheaval for one day, hmm?”

I exhaled a breath in a soft sigh of contentment, “A shower sounds a bit like heaven – I cupped his cheek and leaned in just so our lips could touch, “when we get Willie to bed later we can talk, ok?”

Jamie nodded solemnly, but the creased lines of worry rippled across his forehead again as he watched me go.

I turned on the shower faucet allowing the hot water to make a cloud of steam in the bathroom before applying a five-minute face mask and a coat of paint to my toenails. I considered how little interest I had taken in any of these things in the past few months, now confronted with Jamie back in my life I suddenly was pulling at the dark circles under my eyes, willing them to disappear.

I took my time washing, moisturising and generally preening my body into something that could be presented to Jamie if things went in the right direction later. The luxury of an uninterrupted shower was not lost on me, a sudden pang of relief filled my heart knowing I wasn’t alone in watching Willie.

There was so much to talk about between now and then. I wrapped a robe around myself and padded back out into the kitchen, where I could see the shape of Jamie’s broad shoulders stirring something over the stove. Willie was sitting behind him, fork upright in his little hand like a hunter primed and ready to attack his prey. He was chattering excitedly about whatever it was Jamie was making.

“I’m starving Da – tis my favourite – I have no had it in aaaaaages.”

I rolled my eyes behind them, wondering what dish Jamie could be cooking up, with his limited culinary abilities that had Willie drooling in anticipation.

Haughtily thinking that I was a far better cook than Jamie and produced every dish on Willie’s wish list without argument.

It was a minute before the peg dropped, but far too late in terms of saving my senses as the smell of eggs billowed around my nose and throat, saliva pooling in the back of my mouth, stomach lurching to rid itself on its contents.

There was nothing for it, I moved at lightning speed shoving a bewildered Jamie out of the way before repeatedly gagging into the waste bin, which was the nearest thing I could see.

My ears were buzzing, as I willed my stomach to stop, just wanting the horrible sensation to cease but the smell of the omelette Jamie was making had covered the kitchen.

I managed to splutter ‘open the bloody windows’. I was incapable of standing upright in case of triggering nausea again. Instead, I sank to my knees, head bowed breathing in and out deeply. I felt Jamie’s hand on my back, “mo ghràidh, are ye ok?”

I was powerless to answer him, knowing that any movement would up end my stomach.

“ach Da – she will be fine again in a minute,” Willie replied when it became appearant I couldn’t speak.

I held up one finger, which didn’t seem to impinge on Jamie’s patience.

“Claire –“ he repeated, “Are ye ok – can I get ye something?”

“Tis only the eggs Da”, Willie continued to interject - “the bairn doesna like them.”

At that moment, I was sure my heart stopped, I vaguely considered feigning to faint just so I could be absent for what undoubtedly was about to unfold.

“What bairn –“

I flopped backwardly on the floor, pulling my legs to my chest and resting my back against the wall. Wondering if I could risk opening my mouth to speak. The saliva swirled against my tongue again, and I put the back of my hand to my mouth just in case.

I could make out the lines on my sons face, his forehead almost meeting his eyes at Jamie’s question.

“Mama’s bairn-“ Willie’s voice sounded unsure now, he wasn’t used to leading his father with this type of information, then suddenly his shoulders relaxed, and he slumped forward, elbows on the table holding his head and his legs swinging happily beneath the kitchen chair.

“Ach ye willna ken then –“ Willie sudden understanding of the situation seemed to lighten his unease considerably.

“Jamie – I was trying to wait until tonight.” I managed to blurt out.

The stunned expression on Jamie’s face was only an indication of what was going on in his body as he stumbled forward against the kitchen table and slid down onto the floor beside me. His gaze locked with mine, and then it wandered down my body to rest over my tummy, a small bump lay hidden beneath my jumper, he couldn’t see yet but he would soon.

“Claire – “he gasped out, his mouth hung open and his large fist covered it before he raked his hand down over his face.

“Ye see Da – we dinna need ye for my wee brother after all –

“Ye what?” Jamie asked, his face looked drunk, screwed up in disbelief.

“We don’t know it’s a – “ I tried to interject, but the words fell flat on my tongue.

“As soon as Mama and me got back to Boston, we got the bairn –“ Willie continued happily, his little legs taking a longer swing with each groundbreaking piece of news.

He was thoroughly enjoying this.

“Only me and Mama ken, it’s our secret, isna mama-“

I managed a weak nod in Willie’s direction and watched Jamie’s bottom lip tremble.

“But mama won’t mind ye knowing about the bairn”, - he got up from his seat and came to sit by me on the floor, laying one small little hand over my tummy.

“the bairn is only small yet Da – but it makes mama terrible sick – so we try and not to cook eggs cause he dinna like them.”

Willie’s voice was full of sympathy, as he crawled on all fours to where Jamie sat opposite me, the same little hand rubbed a tear away from Jamie’s cheek, “dinna weep Da – the eggs willna harm the bairn – only make mama puke.”

#our son #outlander fanfic

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years

Text

A Hero Among Us-Chapter 3

On AO3

Ch-1 Ch-2

Chapter Three

Claire looked out the window at the growing number of men and felt a huge relief. With the harvest just six weeks away, she hoped to have ample men to pick the grapes quickly, as Jamie said, this was crucial. She feared the coalition would amp up the pressure before she could sell the grapes. She wondered how far they would go to grab this land.

Jamie walked through the vineyard each day and watched the grapes get smaller as they lost precious water to the drought. The leaves were crisp and brown indicating the weakened condition of the plant. If they were invaded by insects or fungus the plant had little resources to fight and would succumb.

Jamie headed back and saw men running toward him. He quickened his pace. The men were shouting about the lady being threatened by men on horses. Jamie started running, as fast as his legs would allow. He could see the house as the lactic acid was building in his thighs pushing the pain to nearly intolerable, he ran faster. When he came blasting into the house misses Crook was holding a towel to Claire’s face. Jamie’s knees almost buckled as he came around to her and saw the black eye.

“Who did this?” His unmasked face was fury on fire. “Tell me Claire, who? Which of these men is so cowardly to hit a woman?”

“I don’t know, honestly, I don’t know them by name. He said they would burn my fields before I could pick one grape.”

“It won’t happen or it would have already. There are assets in the ground and atop the ground and they arna stupid. They want the vines and the first year of growth completed. Don’t worry about the place burning down.”

Misses Crook moved away from Claire and she launched into Jamie’s arms sobbing. She didn’t mention the other threats. Raping her and misses Crook until dead, killing the workers and animals. She sobbed harder with the memory and Jamie knew she held back the reason for her tears. He had a good idea what cowardly men would say to women to scare them to death.

“Until yer grapes are sold I’ll be posting a man to ye day and night. He won’t be a pest but he’ll be able to warn us when danger is comin.” She wrapped her arms around his stomach and cried harder. He spoke in her ear and told her he would keep her safe.

That means I love you Sassenach, he thought, and I will lay down my life for you. I canna be in love and not move mountains to help and protect you.

“Ya have a fighter who has pledged his life to you Sassenach, please dinna cry lass, it’s breakin my heart.”

Claire heard it, hidden in his words, “I love you”, is what they said. She held onto to the bravest man she had ever known and he was in love with her. Could this be so, she wondered. She pulled away quickly and dried her eyes before she looked into his crystal blue gaze. His eyes said I love you, I desire you, and I will always see you this way.

“Are ye alright now Sassenach?”

Claire felt like she was moving in slow motion, “yes, I’m better now, they scared me.”

“I have to speak to the men and arrange a perimeter patrol and a guard for one pretty Sassenach. This afternoon I have to ride out to the outer forty and check the vines but you will have a man with ye all the time from now on.”

He smiled and turned to leave but she held onto his hands as the tears started to fall again. “Please take me with you.”

He pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Brimstone grows fat in her stall mistress, perhaps ye should come with me. Be ready to ride in thirty minutes.”

Claire released his hands and Jamie vanished to carry out his task of updating the men. His ace in the hole was the group of Highlanders that had come to work. He would stake his life, or Claire’s, on the word of a Highlander and it was time to get them plugged in and offer a safe escape if they chose it. He knew in his bones they would stay and do what Highlanders do, stand the ground that’s been entrusted to them.

He rang the bell and the men assembled around him, there were now fifty men, ready to work. Yi Tien Cho took his seat with the men and looked defiantly at Jamie.

“There is a war over this property that rightfully belongs to misses Randell. The coalition of winegrowers is tryin to take it from her, steal it actually. They beat her today and she has a black eye and deep fear from the encounter. These men will be back and the closer we get to the harvest, the harder they will fight. She is innocent and alone. Without us, she stands no chance of keeping her harvest or her property. Men, I’m askin ye to fight for the lady. If ye refuse ye can leave peacefully and without incident. This I promise because I need to have complete faith in those who stay.

I am riding with the lady to the outer property to assess the crop. I’ll no be sendin able bodies out there if there’s nothin to pick. Stay alert and watch the house. We will sit down when I return and split the group into day and night watch until the harvest.

“Yer askin us to fight for someone we dinna ken and a British woman for Christ sake.”

“I ken. The conditions in Scotland have been tyrannical oppression and land grabbing for the last hundred years. I would wager each of you has known a family member who was swindled, forced, or lied to and lost land, or a home, or the life of someone they loved trying to defend it. This is yer opportunity to strike down the land thieves that are terrorizing this region. Do it for the ones you love, do it because it’s right, do it because a brother is askin ye. Highlander blood runs through us all. Will ye stand with me and fight?”

Angus and Rupert stood up and proudly claimed their allegiance to Jamie’s cause. Other men stood and said the same. One man stood and said, “for my sister and her wee ones, I’m stayin.” Other men stood.

“For my mother.”

“For my grandma, they took her property.”

“For my brother, killed defending his land and crops.”

Misses Crook felt goosebumps run down her arms and she shivered in the ninety-degree heat. She heard it all and was galvanized by Jamie’s words and leadership. On her way back to the house her stride gained six inches, her shoulders were back and her head was high. If there was a chance to save this farm she would play her part. There would be food and ale day and night. It was time to pick the vegetables and start cooking. The men who stay need more than porridge and dried pork.

Claire paced the hallway upstairs and thought about the revelation she felt in Jamie’s arms. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Because she was high born and such a union was not even considered. But he cared for her, that was obvious by his actions and unguarded words today. For some reason, it made her happy, as impossible as it was.

“Mistress! Are ye ready? Have ye decided to rest in the house today?”

“I am ready mister Fraser.”

Jamie watched her descend the stairs in her lace and ruffles, layers of fancy fabrics that would not stand up to a hard ride.

“Sassenach, I have to ride hard to reach the outer border of the property. Are ye sure I can’t talk ye into stayin here with misses Crook? I’ve talked to the men and they are here to guard ye and the property from those who mean ye harm.”

He looked at her pleadingly knowing this was no task for one so fragile.

“I am going with you and I’ll have you know I am quite a good rider. Do not leave without me. Misses Crook!”

It was five minutes before Claire emerged from the house and stood before Jamie. His eyes took in a complete metamorphosis and his mouth hung open. Gone were the layers, ruffles, and lace. Her riding boots came to her knees, her breeches were tight for maximum control and her hat covered her hair that was stuffed into it.

Jamie stood up and circled her. “My God mistress, ye look like a lad and that is perfect! Why didn’t I think of that? Ye brilliant is what ye are. Let’s go.”

Claire smiled at his exuberance and acceptance and followed close behind. Misses Crook folded the clothing she had shed and let her mind wander and wonder about mister James Fraser.

For once, Donus did not pitch his usual fit and agreed to run through the vineyard and take commands from the crazy rider with the fierce seat. Donus also had a crush on Brimstone and paced himself as she did. They rode for quite some time and reaching the outer acreage, Jamie inspected the vines and was pleasantly surprised. As he walked from vine to vine he felt electricity run up his arms and the hair stand up. He smelled the air and felt a jolt of adrenalin. He looked around quickly for shelter but found nothing.

“Sassenach, we must find shelter, right now. The sky is about to rip open.”

She urged Brimstone into a canter and Jamie barely got on Donus before he followed her. He saw lightning strike the ground just ahead of them and his concern went into warp drive. He kicked Donus to pass Brimstone and search the rock walls for a cave or an overhang. When he saw what might offer shelter the sky opened up with booming thunder and great flashes of lightning. Even with their peril, he thanked the almighty for the rain.

Jamie jumped off Donus and walked to the cave. He exhaled in relief and tied Donus to a tree so he could lead Brimstone and Claire into the cave. He came back expecting Donus to be long gone and scratched his head smiling.

“Yer a mate, after all, thank ye for stayin.”

Jamie led Donus into the cave and looked around to judge their space. It was mid-afternoon but the black clouds were closing in on what little sun was left. He looked at the blown-in detritus that littered the floor and found some wood left on an old fire. The horses were so happy to be out of the punishing rain they moved very little. Jaime took the flintstone from his saddlebag and felt relief that it was dry. Ten minutes later there was a fire burning and enough dry vegetation on the ground to last at least an hour.

“Sassenach, yer gonna shake yer teeth right out of yer head. Sit near the fire and warm up.”

Claire looked at him and then the ground like she didn’t understand. Jamie sat down and patted the ground next to him. She looked around for an alternative and finding none, she finally sat down. The fire warmed her and her shaking stopped. Fierce thunder with blinding lightning scared Claire and she dove toward Jamie almost knocking him over.

He looked at her white face and huge eyes and chuckled showing her there was nothing to fear. He guided her back to her sitting position but she scooted next to him, still looking very afraid. The next explosion in the sky and she was on Jamie’s lap gripping his shirt for dear life. It was so loud he couldn’t speak to her so he smiled and hugged her to him. The storm raged while Jamie was facing his inner storm at having Claire in his lap. He knew there was no danger. Finding this cave solved that problem, but the Sassenach did not know that, so he was tender and kind with her.

Jamie was sure the worst of the storm was over and figured five minutes and they could head back at a dead run. The boom and flash stole his vision and his hearing for a few seconds. Where ever he looked he saw a black spot that blocked everything. He was unlucky and had been looking at the cave entrance when it happened. He felt Claire around his neck and held her feeling so bad she was this scared. When he blinked a few times and opened his eyes her beautiful face was an inch from his. He could feel her breath on his face. He tried to speak and she pressed her lips against his.

Jamie’s heart pounded so hard he figured this was his last moment on earth and he was thrilled by it. Claire broke her kiss and she stared into his eyes, “kiss me please.”

Jamie pulled her to him and kissed her with all the emotion and energy he had pushed back over the last month. His head was screaming stop and his mouth wasn’t hearing it. He could hear the rain slowing outside but his spirit had taken flight with the feel of Claire's lips on his. He had to get her to safety while he could so he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. He breathed her in and opened his eyes.

“We have to go, as fast as ye can ride back to the house. I’ll stay behind ye so ride up to yer front door and throw me the reins. I’ll get her back and put her to bed. Right?”

He held her shoulders and she nodded. Jaime scooped her up and hugged her for dear life. He wanted desperately to remember what she felt like against him. As soon as she cleared the cave she mounted Brimstone and took off. Jamie was dragged for a while by Cassanova Donus who wanted to keep up with his girlfriend. Jamie felt the ground under his boots and pushed off as hard as he could landing him on top of the horse who kept up with Brimstone easily.

Claire did just what he said dismounting near the stairs leading to the porch. The thunder returned and the rain was again a down poor. Jamie smiled at her and motioned her toward the house. Claire walked to his side and put a hand on his leg. Jamie leaned down and kissed her with all of his heart then he pointed at the house and Claire ran in.

Jamie sat in the saddle and let Donus lead them to the barn. Fortunately, he looked up in time to see a fat branch in front of his face as Donus aimed to knock him out of the saddle. Something he had been trying to do for the last two days. Jamie pushed his upper body backward against the horse’s butt to avoid the tree truck then he let Donus know there would be consequences for such evil intent. Through it all, he smiled. He had kissed an angel and nothing else mattered.

With the horses safely in bed, Jamie walked through the drenching rain to his cabin. He wondered how many men were left and he prayed his gamble did not cripple this harvest.

Jamie pulled the door open when he heard knocking. Rupert was standing in the rain and announced there was no one watching the house and did Jamie want him to do it. Jamie laughed and pulled Rupert inside the cabin.

“Thank ye. I do want ye to take first watch and as soon as there’s a break in the rain I will run my blanket to ye to keep ye warm. Until we have to pick grapes, you and Angus will split the nights and sleep until noon. Okay?”

Rupert nodded and ran toward the house to find shelter on the porch.

Jamie sat on his bed and got lost in the events of the afternoon. Now that he was alone he could bring back the vivid images and physical memories of holding Claire in his arms. What the devil had precipitated this brief intimacy between them he didn’t know but she had asked him to kiss her and he did. He could feel his heart ramming in his chest at the memory of her body pressed against him, her injured face, her arms around him, her fear. He shook his head and wanted to slap himself or beat himself senseless. If that were only possible maybe he could fix this. He feared his working relationship with the Sassenach was irreparably damaged and his heart dropped miles from where it had been. He jumped to his feet and drove his fist into a sturdy wood beam. What have I done, he thought, what have I done?

Claire flew up the stairs leaving a trail of water on the fine Persian rugs leading to her rooms. She pulled her clothes off and dropped them into a bucket to stem the dripping and dried herself. She stood in the dark of her bedroom and thought about his kiss. The fire in his lips touching hers and cascade of sensations going off from her skin to deep inside her. Just recalling the kiss made her squirm and feel…something very strong, very primal. She started pacing and chewing on her fingernails. What she did was wrong. What she did might jeopardize her entire operation and she was very confused. Half of her wanted to run to him, half wanted to pretend it never happened.

“Misses Crook!”

Claire could hear the older woman running toward her rooms and in a minute’s time Misses Crook was on her knees with Claire, holding onto her as she cried.

“Ye poor child,” she said rocking Claire. “Yer overwrought from all the danger, exercise, and stimulation from the day. Ye need to rest. I canna have ye comin down with a fever after runnin outside in the rain. Come child, get into bed and think of happy things.”

“Misses Crook, that would not include Mister Randell,” she said quietly.

“No, that it wouldn’t. I am bringin ye some soup and don’t ye move.”

Misses Crook ran for the kitchen wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. It was a travesty what Randell did to the poor young girl. He sought her out for her dowry so he could be the king of his own world, far from his controlling family. She watched him cloak himself in normalcy as he lured little Claire into his trap and she did nothing to help the girl. She regretted that decision down to her marrow. She knew he would be locked in purgatory or the fires of hell but what of the life he left behind?

Jamie paced in his cabin as the rain came down in sheets. He wondered where Yi Tien Cho was, probably hunkered down in one of the outbuildings tonight. He hoped. The walls were starting to close in on him and he yanked his door open to fill his lungs. The rain suddenly stopped and he stepped outside to enjoy a moment of fresh air. Putting his head back he breathed in the night air and wondered how Claire was doing tonight. He looked at the house and tried to guess which window she slept behind. His little Sassenach.

Jamie walked through the vineyard to assure himself nothing was amiss. A nagging feeling was scratching his brain but he could not put his finger on it. Thirty minutes later he walked back and hoped he could fall asleep and forget the emotions that gripped him. He pushed his door open and walked in, stopped, and backtracked, lifting his nose to the soft breeze. Fire! Jamie lunged for the bell and rang it with all his strength. Cabin doors were flying open as the men gathered around him. Other noses were raised to the night as the men looked around for the orange glow of a deadly fire.

“I think I see it, far edge of the property against the valley floor. Someone get on the roof and tell me what ye see. Angus was first to scramble up like he had suction pads on his feet. He looked toward the property edge.

“It’s burning boss, maybe five acres so far. He waited and jumped down when Jamie waved him in.”

The men started moving in the direction of the fire.

“Wait!” He rang the bell again to stop them. “Hold on, I need to think this through.”

Jamie paced and rubbed his forehead. He was sure, there was no lightning for at least an hour, just a steady downpour. The rain stops and a fire starts up.

‘This is a staged fire gentleman. They’re trying to pull every man to the far reaches of the property to put out a fire that was set in standing water. He pointed to three of the men and dispatched them to the rear of the house. Then he looked at his crew of forty-five well-muscled Highlanders and chuckled.

“I believe the fire was set to pull the men away from…” he twisted at the waist and looked behind him, “the house.” They intend to leave the prey defenseless so they can finish the lady. Angus, put a man on the roof, the rest of you make yerselves comfortable on the front porch. If they get past me on the road I want to give them a Highlander welcome.”

Jaime peeled off from the group before anyone could say a word. They saw him running in the shadows toward the road. The men joined Rupert on the porch and the excess bodies sat around the front presenting a formidable barrier to the front door. Since no one told them to be quiet they didn’t think of it

Misses Crook felt the tremors in the house and heard the male noise outside and dropped the soup as she ran for the stairs. Claire was on her knees with her hand to her mouth and reached for the older woman.

“What is that?” She whispered

“I dinna ken, but it sounds very big and male. We stay here, aye, and very quiet.”

Jamie was hunkered down in the roadside weeds trying to silently catch his breath. On a dark night like this, they could be standing right beside him undetected. He waited. It wasn’t long before he noticed two shadows walking slowly on the dirt road toward the house.

“What d’ye think Jamie boy?”

Jamie swallowed the startled noise he almost made from the disembodied voice right beside him. “Jesus Christ, is that ye Angus? Ye just scared ten years off my life ye dolt. Stay with those two quietly and watch where they go. I suspect they will turn into the property and mean to do Claire harm. Let them get as close as possible. When they see the welcoming committee they will run the direction they came. Hold em back until the men can get to them. Dinna fash if one gets by ye, I’ll get him after I run their horse off. Got it? Angus?”

Jamie followed the direction they came and found two perfectly good horses tied to different trees munching the long grass. Jamie pulled the saddles off, then the bridles and slapped each in the rump hard enough for them to run back to where ever they lodge. He hung the bridles on his shoulder and held the bits so they didn’t make noise when he ran back. He didn’t see the man but he heard him running and breathing hard. When he was right beside him Jamie kicked out where he hoped the knee would be. He felt the bones tear away from each other as the man screamed in agony. The whaling was quite excessive making Jamie roll his eyes before he placed his foot over the man’s knee and applied pressure.

“Stop yer wailin!”

“Who do ye work for?”

“No one!”

“What was your intention comin here, startin a fire in our crops?”

“I didn’t do that!”

Jamie squatted next to the man’s head. “It is my duty to inform ye that ye just lied, twice, and there will a painful consequence for each. Tell me the truth and I’ll let ye limp to yer horses.”

“I don’t know what yer talkin about, fuck off!”

Jamie lifted the man, patted his head, and drove his boot into the knee on the other side. The man dropped with a blood-curdling scream.

“Do ye know how easy it will be for me to rip yer throat out? Maybe I let ye live and pluck ye eyes out instead. Yep, that’s much more fun.” Jamie grabbed the man’s head in a painful lock and felt his face until his fingers landed on his eyes.

“Ah, there they are.” He pressed them as the man screamed a name, Ben Carson. “What were yer orders tonight.?”

“Count the men, rape the maid in front of the lady. Now let go!”

“Tell Ben Carson I’m comin for him. If he touches either of the women, I’ll make him scream for ten hours before I kill him.”

Jamie dropped the man and ran back to the property where one very scared man was tied to a tree while the Highlanders taunted him. Jamie approached the wide-eyed would-be rapist and bent over so he looked directly in his eyes. Yer friend wilna make it back so I’m countin on ye. Tell Ben Carson I will put my blade through his throat, and if he orders harm to the women living here, I will kill his wife and daughter first.

Jamie ran his blade up the ropes and the man ran away. He looked at the men, “did that sound convincing?”

Three men had been to the fire site and reported the ground is soggy and the fire is out.

“Thank ye for the help tonight gentlemen. He’s comin for the lady and now me. Stay diligent and safe. Angus, yer inside the house with me, Rupert, pick two teams of three for the two night shifts. Keep yer backs against the wall and get some rest.”

Jamie looked at Rupert who gave a nod that he was on board. “Let’s go inside Angus, we’ll each sleep against a door.” The group made their way back to the cabins except for Rupert and two of his men who took a seat on the porch. Jamie reached for the doorknob and ducked as a silver tea set came flying out aimed at his head. He pulled the door closed just in time before something crashed against it from inside.

“Just eight more weeks,” he said quietly. “Ladies! It’s Jamie Fraser, please drop yer weapons.”

He and Angus entered the house slowly looking for projectiles aimed at the heads. “Claire? Where are ye lass?”

He could hear two female voices whispering upstairs and sighed with relief. “Mistress, this is one of yer men and it’s safe to come out. I need to speak with ye.”

Misses Crook came down the stairs trying to look brave. Jamie watched her and almost caved in thinking about what they intended to do with her. Jamie dropped his head and squeezed his eyes closed before he was suddenly hit by a small body that locked him in a death grip trying to squeeze behind him and the wall.

Jamie reached behind him and grabbed Claire’s arm. “It’s safe misses Randell, please come out, we have to talk.” He pulled her in front of him and saw a mass of black hair that fell around her face and down her back in coiled ringlets. Her amber eyes looked up at him, wide with fear. She was wearing a nightgown and robe, holding a heavy candlestick. He had never seen such a beautiful site and his smile radiated his happiness. He cleared his throat and gently took the candlestick from her.

Misses Crook saw the full scale of Jamie’s emotion in his gaze and smile before he put the mask back on and started talking about the change in plans.

Angus and I will sleep against the two doors, three men in back, three men in front. They wilna get past us so please get some rest the two of ye, yer safe.

Misses Crook let Jamie see her disapproval before holding her hand out to Claire and pulling her upstairs. Jamie looked at the ground and shook his head. Claire was raising her voice to misses Crook about the door and window. The two women argued until misses Crook closed the door to her bedroom and shot Jamie a withering look as she walked to her own room.

Jamie dropped to the ground and closed his eyes. This was getting complicated and he had to keep his mind off the beautiful Sassenach. Just how was he supposed to do that? He hoped no one rushed the house tonight because he would surely sleep through it.

Jamie’s eyes slammed open hours later and he was instantly aware of her laying against him, shivering in the cold. He wrapped her in his warm arms and whispered she was safe and he would keep her warm. He pulled her to him and felt her shaking stop.

“I’ll no let any harm come to ya Sassenach. Ye can sleep in my arms, yer safe.”

When Jamie woke in the morning he wondered if he dreamed about Claire in his arms or if it was real. He pulled himself off the floor and stumbled outside to find his cabin and bed.

#outlander fanfic outlander fanfiction jamie and claire fanfiction

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purewhitepages · 5 years

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La Retour de Foi Chapter 5

A/N: I cannot even begin to say how thankful I am for all the support. I truly didn’t think anyone would read this fic, and I’m so grateful to you all for the support. Here, the game of near-misses come to an end.

[EDIT] I hadn’t realized before we posted, but @thelallybrochlibrary‘s Librarian Julia reviewed this fic in their Monday recommendations. It’s very sweet and I’m crying.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

“Now, dinna embarrass me, please,” Kitty begged her father as they heard the doorbell ring.

“When have I done that, a nighean?” Ian asked sincerely.

Kitty shivered, remembering Kirk McDougal in school and how she couldn’t look him in the eye for weeks after he had picked her up for a date and met her father. She didn’t answer and instead opened the door for her friend to come in.

“Miss me?” Faith asked with a quick hug. Kitty wasn’t usually one for hugs, but she also didn’t usually meet someone she got on with so well in such a short time.

“No’ a chance.” They shared a laugh. “C’mon then, I’ll introduce ye to my siblings.”

“Oh, how many do you have?”

“Besides Ian? Five plus the two in-laws.”

Faith’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and she shook her head. “Jeez. Seven of you?”

“Aye, don’t ye have any siblings?”

Faith shook her head, chewing on her lip. “My parents couldn’t have kids. I’m adopted and I don’t have any siblings.”

Kitty breezed past the potential minefield of a topic with ease. “Oh, well, you’re in for quite the shock, lass.” She led Faith from the foyer into the sitting room where most of the family was.

“Everyone!” Kitty announced and they all looked up. “This is my friend, Faith. Faith, this is everyone.”

The small room barely had an open seat with all of the Murrays inside and Faith’s eyes were wide. A chorus of greetings assaulted her ears. “Hello,” she answered back, suddenly a little shy.

Kitty took the initiative. “Over there is my older brother Jamie and Joan and o’course their wean, Henry. The auld coot next to them is Paul-”

“Och, shut yer gob.”

“-My older sister Maggie’s husband. I think Maggie’s in the kitchen helpin’ Ma, most like.”

“She is, who’s this then?” A short girl, nearly the spitting image of Mrs. Murray stood up to them and sized up Faith.

“This is my baby sister, Janet. Be nice, Janet, wee Faith here is my friend.”

“I’m always nice, how dare ye, Kitty-”

“Anyway, the twins are over yonder, Caity and Mike. And of course ye already ken Ian.”

Faith knocked shoulders with the boy as Kitty spoke and he greeted her warmly.

“So where do you fall in the lineup?” Faith asked.

“He’s the youngest.” They turned to see Ian the Elder sitting in a chair by the TV. “Glad ye could make it, Faith. We’ve been expecting ye.”

Faith smiled and nodded. “I wish I’d known there were going to be so many people, I’d hate to saddle you with one more mouth to feed.”

He waved away the notion. “Nonsense, yer welcome anytime in our house, at our table, to our food.”

His wife walked out of the kitchen just now with a young woman following behind her—Maggie, Faith presumed. Mrs. Murray took one look at Faith and turned up her nose. “Nicetoseeyou,” she said quickly as she turned away from the visitor. “Alright you lot,” she said to the army of Murrays now standing at attention to their mother. “I am in need of some good mushrooms for tonight’s meal. Go on now inta the forest and get some.”

There was a chorus of protestation by most of the older siblings before Jenny turned her eye on them. “I willna ask again. Ye know what ta do. And I hope those of ye who have wandered away from yer dear parents havena forgotten where ta look.”

“C’mon, Faith, I ken the perfect spot,” Kitty said taking Faith’s arm.

“She can stay here with me and yer father, Kitty. The forest isna place for those who dinna ken it.” Jenny crossed her arms over her chest and Kitty sighed.

“Dinna listen to anything my Da says, promise?” Kitty whispers.

“I promise, hurry back.” Faith took a seat by Ian as the siblings filed out the back door.

“Some tea while we wait?” Jenny asked. “How d’ye take it, Faith?” She stopped a moment. “Ye do take tea, I assume?”

Faith nodded. “I’ll just take a little milk if that’s alright.”

Jenny set back into the kitchen to get the tea and Faith folded her hands in her lap.

“Now, Faith, what brings ye to these parts of the Highlands?” Ian asked, stretching out his good leg.

Faith colored at those words and looked down. “Eh, my family’s from around here.”

“Ye don’t say. Who are they?”

She fidgeted in her seat. “The McTavishes, Emma and Graham.”

“I canna say as I recall them living around here, and I’ve lived here all my life. What was yer Ma’s maiden name?”

“MacKenzie, I believe.”

“Ah, yes, plenty of them around these parts.” Ian nodded thoughtfully and thanked his wife as she set the tea before them. “Say, Jenny, ye ken anything about a Graham McTavish or an Emma MacKenzie?”

“Och, ye mean besides me own mother being a MacKenzie, I dinna ken anyone named Emma, though.”

“Fancy that, Faith.” Ian stared right into her eyes, right into her very soul. “Who’da thought we might be related.”

She felt her skin flush and her heart beat wildly.

“Something the matter, lass?”

She shook her head. “I don’t- I- how did you know?”

Jenny groaned a very Scottish groan. “Och, how could we not have. For Christ-sake, yer the spitting image of yer Ma.” She stirred her tea angrily. “And just where was yer heid at, lass? Comin’ here without tellin’ a soul who ye were and creepin’ about with my daughter?”

Faith’s face had turned very red and she shook her head. “I wasn’t creeping, Mrs. Murray. I- I- please you have to understand.”

“By all means.” She threw the spoon on the table with a clang. “Explain yourself!”

Faith took a deep breath and gripped the arm-rests of the chair.

“I’ve always been a wanderer, never really belonging anywhere. I was a Brit growing up in Maine until I went to North Carolina for university and I traveled. Then I was in medical school in Boston, closer to my Mom than I had been in years but I still didn’t feel like I had a home. So I tried to give back to the world in MSF and I kept traveling, looking for my place.” She chewed on her lip. “I always knew I was adopted, my parents never hid it from me. But I never thought I’d meet my real parents and I honestly thought I didn’t care. And then, earlier this week while I was visiting some friends in London before going home for good, I get this call from my Mom. She got an email from someone claiming to be my real mother.” Faith closed her eyes tight and shook her head, collecting herself.

“She asked if it was ok that she respond and send some pictures of me: my childhood and school pictures, some pictures from my travels and things like that. I was in shock, I just said yes. For my whole life, I hadn’t thought of my real parents as anything more than a dream, nothing tangible. And here I am, on the same island as them, with the name of the village they live in. Before I’d even really considered what I was doing, I’d hopped on a train and was heading up. It wasn’t until I got to the village that I realized how completely insane this whole idea was and that I didn’t know where I was going or what I was doing. But then I met Kitty and Ian and...Bree and Roger. And I didn’t know who they were when I met them, you have to believe me. And when I did find out, I didn’t know how to tell them and I didn’t want to because finally-... Finally I’d felt like I’d found my place, like I’d found my family.” She was crying now, tears streaming from her amber eyes. “This whole thing was just a big misunderstanding and I shouldn’t have come here, I’m so sor-”

Before she could finish her apology, Jenny grabbed Faith by the shoulders and enveloped her in a hug, tears running down her own face. She stroked the girl’s hair as she cried and whispered to her. “Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright. Ye’re clearly yer da’s daughter as well as yer mam’s, coming up here without a second thought. I’d expect nothing less of a Fraser looking for her family. Shh, shh, it’s alright now.”

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Murray,” Faith gasped in between her tears.

“Now, enough of that. Ye’re forgiven, a nighean.” She pulled back from the hug to wipe the tears from Faith’s face. “And ye’re to call me Aunt Jenny, ye hear me?”

Faith nodded emphatically. “Yes, Aunt Jenny.”

“And ye’re to stay the night at ours.”

“But-” She began to protest but closed her mouth with the look given her. “Yes Aunt Jenny.”

“Welcome home, Faith.” She looked to see Ian, also with tears in his eyes. She gave him a hug too and he patted her back. “There’s nothing to worry about now. We’ll arrange everything with yer parents about a proper greeting.”

Faith pulled back, face white. “I- are you sure?”

He nodded. “Jamie and Claire’ll be off work tomorrow to prepare for the reunion on Saturday. We’ll see about talking to them tomorrow.”

“Reunion?”

“Aye, the first ever Fraser-Murray Family Reunion this Saturday, put up by yer parents up at Lallybroch.” He chuckled. “Ye picked a fair time to show up, eh?”

“They won’t be- will they-”

“Dinna be afraid, Faith. They won’t be cross wi’ ye. If anything, they’ll be mad with joy.”

The door to the outside opened and a storm of feet brought the Murray clan back in.

“Well Ma, if this isn’t enough mushrooms from now until the end of the world, I dinna ken what to tell ye.” They turned to see Kitty holding up a bag of mushrooms cleaned off with the garden hose. She stopped when she saw Faith, eyes red from crying. She whirled on her father. “Da, what the he-, och what are ye doin’ upsetting my friend? I told ye not to say anything funny to her and-”

Faith let out a laugh and placed a hand on Kitty’s shoulder. “Kitty, Kitty, please, can we talk? I’ve got something I want- no, something I need to tell you.”

xXx

“Bree? Roger? Will you come and sit down with us?” Claire’s voice was strong and Jamie’s hand felt heavy and safe in her’s as the two young people stopped on their way to the door.

Bree overlooked the scene: her parents seated side-by-side and her younger brother scowling and arms crossed sitting on the opposite couch. She hoped this wasn’t a “lecture William” session. Fergus’s smile was reassuring however, with Marsali sitting next to him on the couch adjacent to Claire and Jamie.

“Is it important, Mama? Roger and I were about to meet Kitty and Ian at the pub,” Bree asked, glancing at Roger from the corner of her eye.

“Actually it is rather important. Please sit down.” Claire gestured to the couch. Bree and Roger sat next to William, waiting on edge and expectantly.

Clarie took a breath. “Did you want to-?” She asked Jamie but he shook his head. “Alright, as you all know, I’m sure. Your father and I-...after we got married, we made some less than savory acquaintances and some bad choices to go along with those.”

“The Independence Movement is a noble choice to consider, just to be clear,” Jamie clarified. “But yer Mam and I, weel, we went about it the wrong way.”

“We were young, and didn’t fully understand what we were getting ourselves into. And we paid the price for it.” She cleared her throat. “As you know, we’d had another child, a girl. But your father was in prison and I-” She swallowed the tears down again. “I wasn’t dealing with it well, and was in a hospital for psychiatric care.”

Jamie gripped her shoulder again and nodded to her that he would take the lead. “Yer sister was placed with another family. We were told it would be temporary, but-” He smiled sadly. “It turned out not to be the case. Bree would have been too young to remember. Fergus, you might.”

Fergus looked pensive as he chewed on his thoughts. “Yes, I recall you trying to get her back when I first came here with you.” He shook his head. “I had forgotten, in all honesty. I never think of it.” Marsali rubbed his shoulder and he patted her leg.

Claire had composed herself and shook her head. “You are probably wondering why we’re airing out all of this dirty laundry right now.”

The group nodded curiously.

“The family that adopted your sister moved to America when she was a child. I’ve only just this week been able to contact the mother and I’ve received some news and some pictures about her. And if you would like to know about them, about her, we would like to share them with you.”

Claire opened the laptop on her lap, waiting a moment.

“Does this mean she’ll be visiting?” William asked, arms still crossed, but no longer scowling.

“It doesna mean anything yet, mo bhalach,” Jamie said with a smile. “We havena even heard from yer sister, Faith, yet. She’s traveling at the current moment.”

“Yes, from what we’ve heard, it would seem she’s quite the globetrotter.” Claire sounded very proud but then frowned. “We want to make sure that you know that no matter what happens with Faith, that she is not replacing any of you. There is plenty of love to go around.”

Bree nodded and glanced at Roger. William stood and went over to sit beside his mother. Fergus and Marsali gathered beside them to peer at the computer screen. Claire maneuvered it to be more visible and pointed to the screen.

“Look, there’s her as a teen, and as a baby. This is her in South Africa, and I think this one is the most recent-”

“She’s got a lot of tattoos,” William commented.

“You’re still not getting one.” Jamie’s voice was firm, but when he looked back to the pictures, his smile was one of a proud father.

“I like that sweater,” Marsali commented, pointing at the screen. “D’ye think ye could ask where she got it?”

Claire nodded. “Absolutely, we’ll have to.”

“A right braw lass, it looks. I’d love to meet her.” Marsali nodded as she spoke.

Roger squeezed Bree’s hand and she looked back up at him.

“You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Bree said. “It’s just- This isn’t what I had been expecting to hear today.”

“Take your time. It’s alright.”

“What about you? How are you taking it?”

Roger shrugged. “I must admit that I hadna been expecting it either. But it is exciting news, is it no’? Regardless of where she comes from, she is yer blood, and she’s alive and safe.”

Bree looked over at her family glued to the computer.

“You go. Tell me if she looks nice.”

Roger chuckled and pecked her cheek before moving behind the couch where Claire sat to see the pictures. He smiled and looked back up to Bree.

“She’s verra cute.” Bree’s jaw dropped. “Well, when she was a wean, anyway.”

“That’s not funny.”

Roger shook his head with a smile. “She quite favors you, doesn’t she, Claire?”

Claire nodded. “And a doctor too. This one is from her time with Doctors Without Borders.”

Roger’s eyes went wide and his face turned white. “Bree, Bree-” he called out.

“What- what is it?” She jumped up.

“You have to come see this!”

xXx

The sun was setting behind the trees at the edge of the field behind the Murray house, giving the whole area an almost unearthly look. After a hearty dinner and much connecting as a family, a game of football was suggested. The old ball was dug out of a closet and inflated. Two garden chairs, a broken off broomstick stuck into the ground, and an old car tire stood for goal posts. Brown, gold, and red hair flew in the wind as the cousins ran through the last ethereal haze of sunshine. Faith couldn’t even remember what team she was on or what the score was or which goal she was even kicking into. But none of that mattered. Her dark brown hair bounced in thick curls behind her as she ran to the goal away from her shouting cousins--so caught up in that word (Cousins, plural, and not to mention who they were and how much she already loved them) that no one even noticed the commotion happening indoors.

“C’mon inside, the lot of ye, dessert is ready,” Ian the Elder called out from the low wall separating the field from the Murray’s backyard. Faith let the laugh in her breath play out as she fell next to Kitty behind Ian and Mike. She peeked at the girl beside her, still fearful of any animosity she was harboring. Faith’s look was greeted with a wide smile and an arm slung over her shoulders.

“Ma should be making her famous tarts,” Kitty told her. “Ye’ll love it.”

“I’ll have to get the recipe.” She wrapped her own arm around Kitty’s middle, hand placed on the opposite shoulder.

“Aye. And-” Kitty bit her lip. “Ye’ll have to come visit me, in Glasgow. My boyfriend, Geordie, he couldna come ‘cause of work. But he’d love to meet ye. I can show ye all my favorite shops and we can go see a show.”

Faith nodded. “I’d love that, Kitty.” She wasn’t sure when or how, but she would see to it that she went.

The clan piled their way into the house, suddenly stopping. Kitty frowned as everyone looked back at Faith.

“What is it now? I need to eat some tarts!” She stood on her toes to see over the heads of her siblings and her eyes went wide. She grabbed Faith’s arms. “Faith- it’s-”

Faith pushed forward, despite Kitty’s hand, making her way to the front of the pack. She let out the breath she was holding, and regarded the group in front of her. Three women, four men. She had never seen them altogether in person before, but she knew them.

“Hello,” she said, folding her hands over her stomach. “My name is Faith. I’m your daughter.”

Chapter 6

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 5 years

Text

Edinburgh to Boston - Chapter 9 - Snow Day

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Hello all, Sorry for the delay getting this chapter out there. Real life some times gets in the way. This includes technology as my hard drive died. I didn’t lose much, most of what is really important was able to be salvaged.

I finally got around to including links to the other chapters, so anyone who has not read them all will be able to find them if they want.

Has anyone noticed that Jamie has not called Claire Sassenach in eight chapters? Well, that will be rectified now. You don’t know how hard it was not to call her that all this time.

If there are any questions, comments, or thoughts please don’t hesitate to let me know. I can only learn from what you all say. Respectfully, please.

I do need to thank my beta @curlsgetdemgurls reading this and giving me the courage to post this. You are the best. Chapter 10 is underway. I have no idea when it will be done, but there is a Chapter 10. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Without further delay, I give you:

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 9

Snow Day

Jamie and Claire sat at the table by the window, enjoying their breakfast. Jamie attacked his bowl of parritch, mixed berries, and honey with the ravenous appetite of a starving wolf who just happened across a carcass.

“Nuthin’ like a healthy bowl of parritch to start the day,” said Jamie, giving a withering look at Claire’s breakfast choices of fried eggs, bacon, and toast slathered with butter and jam.

“Well, Fraser, when in America, eat like one,” she said while waving a delectable piece of crunchy fried pork in the air. “It happens to be quite good. Even though they have got this bacon thing all wrong. Not like the rashers we have at home. Still, it is delicious.” Popping the tasty morsel into her mouth, she rolled her eyes and groaned ecstatically.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at the remaining piece sitting on the plate, “Looks mostly like fat to me.” He reached over, snatching the ribbon of porkiness from her plate, considered it, and swiftly consumed it. “Hmm, fatty, salty, crispy, and smoky. ‘Tis good, but I wouldna want to eat it every day. Cannae be good for ye.”

Sighing and shaking her head, Claire leveled a look of exasperation at him. “Live a little will you? We’re on vacation!”

He let out a laugh, “Yer right, but there is no need to be unhealthy. As it is, I’ll no’ be going to the gym today. Hmm, mebbe I’ll just carry ye around instead,” he said smugly. Tilting his head to the side, he gave her body an appraising look, much like gazing upon the beauty of a perfect rose.

“What do ye weigh a leannan, about 8-9 stone? That’s no’ much. I’ll never get a decent workout just carrying ye around,” he smirked.

“Why thank you, I think. That is supposed to be a compliment, right? You don’t think I’m too thin do you?” Suddenly becoming self-conscious, she looked down at herself trying to figure out if she was too fat or too thin.

“Aye, it ‘tis and no yer not. I like ye just fine the way ye are.”

Jamie leaned back in his chair stretching out his long legs and taking a sip of his coffee.

“So, lass, what would ye like to do today?”

“Well, if you are worried about not getting your proper exercise, there are other forms of exercise that will raise your heart rate, you know,” Claire said as she cast a quick glance back toward the bed.

Jamie ignored this.

“I ken what we can do! Why dinna ye take me to some of yer favorite places ye liked to go when ye lived here?”

“I don’t know if that is a wise idea. Boston winters are very cold and I don’t think that either of us has appropriate clothes to go wandering about. Besides, I don’t know how many places are open today. Most people will be digging out.”

Getting up, Jamie went to rummage through his suitcase. Sure enough, he found his favorite forest green cable knit pullover, his black jeans, a pair of duck boots, and his down jacket.

“Weel, I’ll be damned. I dinna remember packing these. Check yer bag let’s see what you have in there.”

Claire opened her suitcase and found clothes suitable for outdoor activities. She found her favorite cashmere jumper in midnight blue and her woolen turtleneck sweater in deep rich wine. She also found her favorite black skinny jeans, a warm wooly hat and gloves, and her parka.

“I know I didn’t pack these. I’m sure of it.” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion as she considered how these clothes ended up in her bag.

“It doesna matter how they got there, yer clothes are here. Let’s get dressed. I shall leave the itinerary to ye.”

Claire’s breathing quickened. She began to nervously play with one her curls, twisting it around her finger, over and over. Truth be told, there was a certain amount of anxiety about leaving the room. She worried about dredging up old memories that she safely tucked away after ending her marriage to Frank. Least of all was the prospect of visiting places that held unpleasant memories. Most certainly she did not want to visit these places with Jamie. Fearing the possibility of a chance meeting with Frank gave her shivers. She concluded that the likelihood of a chance meeting would be remote as classes would be canceled. That would leave Frank free to shack up with some bimbo, er umm, a young woman all day.

“What’s amiss, lass? Ye look a bit peely-wally. Are ye alright?”

“Sorry?”

“Something is bothering ye. It’s written all over yer face. Ye ken ye can tell me anything.”

Jamie walked back to the chair by the window, pulling Claire along. He sat down and settled her on his lap.

“I dinna want ye to feel that ye need to tell me anything that ye canna, but I can see yer fair fashed over something. Mo nighean donn, tell me what’s bothering ye if ye can.” He raised his hand cupping her cheek and began to stroke his thumb over her cheekbone. Melting into the warmth of his hand, she relaxed.

“I wasn’t honest with you when I told you I slept well.”

She cleared her throat nervously, eyes darting around the room searching for something to focus on while gathering her thoughts.

“I, ah, had a nightmare about, ...well, it was about Frank. It left me feeling rather unsettled, to say the least.”

Her body language and voice were contradictions, outwardly appearing composed while her voice quavered with emotion. Describing her dream, she related how Frank tried to plant seeds of doubt and used her insecurities against her. The Scottish Barbarian and The English Rose. Insinuating she had a need for someone to dominate her. Jamie observed Claire as she told her story. Her face contorted with frustration, anger, shame; her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I told…,” her voice cracked, “I told him that I love you and you love me. And, and that he should bugger off and not come back,” Claire said this with pride in her voice. “But he said he would come back when I called him. I don’t want to see him ever again, really I don’t. I’ll never call him back, never.” With that, Claire buried her face into Jamie’s shoulder crying shedding tears of outrage and irritation.

Jamie’s mouth drew together in a tight white line. His eyes burned with anger. That Englishman, that filthy sassenach bastard! How could he have the audacity to come into his bed between him and his woman upsetting her, trying to sow the seeds of doubt. He had no care for insults or slurs directed at him. He heard them before. But, Claire! She is kindness and goodness personified. If I ever meet him...

Jamie’s arms came around her, pulling her close to him. His strong hands rubbed her back in soothing circles. He spoke to her softly in the Gàidhlig, speaking words of comfort that had no meaning to Claire but spoke to her heart and soul.

Jamie cradled her close to his chest and gently stroked her hair, “I’ll let nay harm come to ye as long as I walk this earth. Dinna be afraid, a leannan, there is the two of us now.”

Claire nodded her head and sniffed.

Jamie’s hand reached under Claire’s chin, raising it up so that he could look onto her face. Her eyes were puffy, nose red and runny, and her cheeks were tear stained.

“Ye are so beautiful, mo chridhe,” Jamie said smiling. He took a serviette wiping Claire’s runny nose as he kissed away her tears.

She sniffed, “You must be blind. I’m really not sure you should be operating anymore. I’m sure I don’t look beautiful right now.”

“Yer beautiful to me always,” he said lovingly.

Jamie’s voice took on a more serious tone. “Claire, if ye dinna want to go out because yer worried that ye will run into Frank,” he growled saying the bastard’s name, “I dinna want you to do anything that will make ye uncomfortable. We could always find something else to do.” He waggled his eyebrows in an attempt at being suggestive.

“Ridiculous man,” she said with a smile in her voice, feeling so grateful to have found him.

Closing her eyes to aid her concentration, she considered Jamie’s suggestion carefully weighing each of the pros and cons.

How much longer will I give Frank power over me, to control me and my life? It’s been three years since we divorced and he still tries to make me insecure, belittle me. When will I remove myself from his grasp? It’s now or never. It’s time to choose. Time to take back what’s mine.

“NO! No, I won’t run and hide. Frank has run my life for far too long, and I’ll be damned if I let him continue. Let’s go see Boston, Jamie. We’ll make our own memories,” Claire said grinning.

“That’s my lass. Yer strong, brave, and fearless and I love ye for it.” Jamie gave her a resounding smack on the lips that left her breathless.

They quickly dressed and departed the room laughing, smiling with their fingers intertwined.

**************

Jamie and Claire stepped outside of the comfort of their hotel into the bitter cold and biting winds. In spite of being warmly dressed, the frigid temperature threatened to seep its way into the very marrow of their bones.

The sidewalks were barely passable despite the best efforts of man, machine, and salt. Icy patches dotted the landscape causing the lovers to slip and slide along the walkways. Jamie’s hand reached out taking Claire’s elbow to steady her. They climbed over mounds of grey city snow that sported an occasional yellow streak.

After walking for twenty minutes, they reached Boston Common, each sporting red runny noses and equally red cheeks.

“I’m beginning to think yer first suggestion to stay in bed all day was a good idea,” Jamie said with a smirk on his face, the steam of his breath escaping with each word.

“Do you want to turn back?” A look of concern written all over her face.

“Nah, I was concerned about ye, Sassenach.”

Claire stopped dead in her tracks. “Sassenach?! I know that word and it isn’t very nice. Isn’t that something derogatory to call me?” Her amber eyes narrowed glaring at him with unnerving thoroughness.

“In truth, it depends on who and how they are saying it. The word sassenach really means Englishman or English lady. At worst, it means outlander. I have always called ye Sassenach in my mind. Ye see I have always thought of ye as my English Lady. A woman of grace and refinement, a true Lady.”

With that, Jamie smiled placed his hand over his heart and made a courtly bow, “My Lady, I am at yer service.”

Giggling at the sight she decided to return the gesture. Bowing her head and spreading the skirt of her jacket, Claire curtsied, “My Lord.”

Jamie popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

“Who told ye?” he demanded.

Claire looked quizzically at Jamie, “Who told me wot?”

“That I am a Laird.”

“You’re a wot???” she gasped.

“I am Laird Broch Tuarach of Lallybroch Estate. My home. ‘Tis only an honorary title now, but it has been handed down in my family since the 18th century. Lallybroch is a working farm in the Highlands, ye ken. My sister Jenny and her husband Ian run it. Their five children live there too. But, technically it is mine as I retain the title and will pass it on to my son someday.”

“Hmm, do I have to curtsy every time I see you, my Laird?” Claire asked with a coy smile.

Laughing to herself, she wondered how the OR staff would react if they had to curtsy every time he came to do a case.

“Nay, I think we can dispense with the formalities if ye please,” Jamie said with a chuckle.

“Good. It’s awfully hard to curtsy in the bloody snow.”

“May I offer ye my arm my Lady as we stroll about on this fine cold day...for the sake of yer safety of course. I wouldna want ye to slip and fall injuring yerself.” His blue eyes, as blue as the cold clear sky, crinkled with mirth as he extended his arm for her to take.

Bobbing her head, and lowering her eyelashes demurely she said, “It would be my pleasure, my Laird,” and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Claire suddenly wondered why this felt like such a familiar thing to do.

Jamie tucked her hand securely in place pulling his arm and her hand closer to his body. He began to speculate why it felt like he had done this more times than he could remember. It felt natural, more like an everyday occurrence for them to walk like this.

A strong wind blew up around them, coating Claire from head to foot in a sheath of powdery snow crystals. The hair that peaked out from under her cap glistened, lashes sparkled with the tiny flakes that clung to them, and her clothes were enrobed in glittering flakes. She took on an otherworldly aura.

His mouth opened as he watched the swirling dust of snow float around her.

She must be one of the faes. No, not just a fae, but Queen of the Fae. For only the Queen could be so beautiful.

He stood there envisioning her in the finery befitting a Queen. A circlet of silvery moonbeams would adorn her head accentuating her mass of curls. Her lithe form draped in a diaphanous gown made of diamond dust while her feet were encased in slippers made from starlight.

He wanted to fall on his knees in worship, beg her to take him to her Queendom. He would become her Knight of the Realm, her Champion. With dirk and sword, he would do battle shielding her from harm. He would slay dragons, protect her from evil sorcerers, and safeguard her from malevolent creatures. As darkness envelops the earth, he would sleep at her feet sheltering and guarding her against the dangers that lurk in the blackness of night. She had cast a spell on him and he was happy to be under her power.

He heard the tinkling of her laughter, much like a wind chime, light and gentle in the breeze. Her eyes crinkled with merriment as a small buffy-brown bird landed on her shoulder. It hopped along coming closer to her ear merrily chirping. Claire raised her hand and stroked the downy head of the little bird speaking softly to it. Her hand went to her pocket and returned with a bit of her toast from breakfast. She opened her hand and the warbler flew onto her hand seized the bread and took wing.

Jamie stood in awe of the scene unfolding before him. “Is a wild bird so tame for her?!” The scene repeated itself several more times with birds flitting along her arm, singing and trilling to her. Each was tenderly stroked, given a bit of bread, then flew off to join its fellows. Her hand went to her pocket pulling out the remainder of the toast wrapped in the serviette. She tore the bread into bits scattering it on the snow. En masse a clan of the small birds gathered joyously chirping doing a demented dance around the bread, pecking at it.

Mary, Michael, and Bride, she is the Queen of the Fae!

Claire looked at him with a radiant smile.

For a split second, Jamie became irrationally afraid.

“How did ye do that, lass!? The birds, they seem so tame!”

“I don’t do anything, really. They just come. It’s been happening for a long time, ever since I was a little girl. It started not long after my parents died,” Claire said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Sassenach, do ye want to tell me about it if ye can?” Jamie asked cautiously knowing her parents' death is a painful and sensitive area for her.

There was a moment of hesitation, then taking a deep breath to steel herself for the memories.

“As I told you after my parents deaths my uncle Lamb became my guardian. He was writing a book on the meaning of birds in different cultures. While he sat writing in his study, I would play in the garden. One day, not long after my arrival, I was playing with my plushy dog when a bird, a sparrow, flew down next to me. Its head turned side-to-side watching me. Then it began to sing one of the sweetest songs I had ever heard. I held out my hand and it hopped on, chirping madly while wildly flapping its wings as if it were a leaf caught in a maelstrom.”

Claire’s eyes clouded and her lip quivered while struggling to maintain her composure as the childhood memories beset her.

“I began to pet the bird and it quieted under my touch. It began to sing again, but this time soft and low. For a moment, I thought I heard my mother’s voice singing the lullaby she sang to me at bedtime.”

She gave Jamie a sidelong glance to see if he thought she was deranged. He stood there calm, placid, face expressionless, giving no hint to his inner thoughts.

“I started to cry and the bird flew off. I got up and ran into to tell Lamb what happened. He picked me up, put me on his lap, and cuddled me to his chest. After he wiped my tears, he told me that ancient Egyptians believed that sparrows carried the souls of the dead to heaven. Perhaps this one came to tell me that my parents were in heaven with God and the angels and I shouldn’t worry.”

A single tear ran down her cheek.

“I was happy that Momma and Daddy were in heaven, but I really didn’t understand all of what he was talking about. Later, as they continued to visit me, we talked about it again. Lamb told me that a Buddhist teacher he knew believed that a person in mourning is considered a very holy person. This holy state opens the mourner to experience things that are beyond the physical world and more receptive to the spiritual world. Lamb thought that was why I thought I heard my mother singing or my father’s laugh when the birds came. Grieving opened my heart to other possibilities.”

“Three months before you came,” she continued, “whenever I would walk Ginger in the park the birds would continue to visit. I began to hear another voice, a new one. It was deeper, rich, and very, very masculine. He would call my name, sometimes in passion and sometimes with love and laughter.” Giving him a quick sidelong look she finished her tale, “I know now that it was your voice I heard.”

Jamie startled at this revelation. Was it truly his voice or could it be the other’s voice calling out to her from across the centuries? He wondered if she was ready to hear about the Fraser Legend. No, he thought not just yet. He disliked withholding something from her but now was definitely not the right time.

Beginning to fidget, she moved her foot in the snow gouging out a divot with the heel of her boot. She felt the heat rising up to color her cheeks. She was afraid to look at Jamie fearing that she would see he truly thought her insane.

Neither spoke for a time. The only sound around them was the wind soughing through the leafless branches.

“Claire, look at me.” Jamie placed his fingers under her chin forcing her head up to look at him. She kept her eyes closed not able to bear the disdain she would see in his eyes for her.

“Mo ghràdh, look at me, please. I believe you. I dinna understand it, but I believe you.”

“How can you believe me when it sounds crazy even to me? Really, Jamie! I have often wondered if this...” Claire waved her hand toward the birds eagerly consuming the bread, “was nothing more than the imaginings of a sad and lonely child who grew up to become a sad and lonely adult searching for her lost parents and her lost home. A woman who is so desperate that she convinces herself that some sparrows hold the souls of her dead parents. Christ, Jamie!”

He looked at her, her glass face giving away her sense of loss, loneliness, and pain. “Sassenach,” he spoke gently to her as if she were a frightened child, “I am an educated man but I am also a Highlander born and bred. I do ken there are many a thing that is beyond our understanding. There are many tales of the highlands that still canna be explained. Why not this?” His eyebrow lifted in an inquiry.

“Can ye explain what happened to Robert Gordon? The man was clinically dead after 30 minutes of resuscitation no heartbeat, no breathing. Then all of a sudden the man sits up and starts talking. He told us everything that happened in that room, everything we said and did. He said he saw his wife and bairns calling and greetin’ for him. There was more for him to do he kent, so he decided to come back.”

“Yes, I remember.” Claire shuddered at the remembrance of the event. It still gave her chills to think about it.

“Can ye explain that? No, I dinna think so. There are things that are outside our ken. Why must ye explain yers? It just is. Dinna question it, especially when it makes ye happy to believe so.”

Her rational mind, the scientific part of her, rejected any possibility of this being true, but the little girl in her wanted, no needed to hold on to any chance that she might still have some connection to her family.

Claire’s eyes drifted down toward the snow. The clan of sparrows left, all except three. She sighed. It was always the same, three of the warblers always remained, two males and one female.

The birds stood there cocking their heads from side-to-side regarding Claire and Jamie. The female and one of the males flew up alighting on Claire’s shoulder. The female came close rubbing her feathery head against Claire’s cheek, softly cheeping to her. The male landed on her opposite shoulder gently pecked at her hair.

The more vocal male flew up landing on Jamie’s forearm giving him a level look. He began to chatter and chirp loudly hopping up his forearm with the determination of a sprinter moments away from the finish line.

His black birdy eye coldly glared while uttering piercing squawks of what seemed to be warning or admonition. The feathery wings spread wide fluttering frantically. This was one very agitated bird.

“If we are going to believe these creatures possess the souls of my family, I think he is my father and these two are my mother and uncle,” Claire said with a small smile.

“Aye, I think yer right, Sassenach.”

Jamie reached up took hold of both of Claire’s hands, linking them together.

“Sirs and Madam,” Jamie said with all solemnity, “I am James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, and I am deeply in love with yer daughter and niece. My intentions are honorable and I promise to see her safe, care for her and love her all the days of my life. I ask yer approval of our relationship.” He bowed his head in respect toward the feathery family.

In unison, their heads swiveled toward Claire questioning.

“I love him too. He fills my heart with love and joy. He takes away the emptiness. When I am with him it's as if the sun comes out on a cloudy day filling my life with light and warmth.”

The downy kinfolk flew around them coming to land on their joined hands singing sweet and mellow.

“I hope ye dinna mind, but I plan to kiss yer daughter.”

Their hands broke apart. Jamie raised his hands up to cup Claire’s face, “Before yer family, I love ye, Claire Beauchamp across all time.”

“I love you too, always and forever,” she sighed into his mouth.

He leaned forward and tenderly pressed his lips to hers. A kiss filled with so much love, tenderness, and promise.

His eyes crinkled and a smile lit his mouth, “Aye, I must love ye Sassenach, ye have me talking to the birds too.”

The little bird family took flight soaring high above the lovers and disappeared into the sky knowing their daughter and niece was well loved.

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 9 #snow day #bacon and eggs #oatmeal #sassenach #boston common #queen of the fae #sparrows #laird broch tuarach #it's cold outside #thanks to my beta #curlsgetsdemgurls #Here Goes Nothing #I always freak out when I post something

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thesoftdumbass · 6 years

Text

Another Time, Another Place: Part 1

John Kennex x reader, Leonard McCoy x reader

Star Trek / Almost Human Crossover

Word Count: 2.1 K

Warnings: mild electric shock, transporter malfunction, mugging, slight attempted assault, jealousy

Summary: Thanks to a transporter malfunction, you end up in the past with a familiar face, but what do you do when it turns out he’s a completely different person?

A/N- This is my entry for @goingknowherewastaken Star Trek Crossover Challenge! It was originally supposed to be one bit one shot, but I thought I should break it up and post some of it now! This will only be a couple parts I think.

Tagging @annathewitch and @musikat18 because you both love Bones and Kennex!

series masterlist

“Morning, Scotty,” you greeted your boss on the way to engineering.

“Morning, Y/N. Can ya head over to the transporter room and replace the circuit board in panel G? It needs to be rewired,” he asked, preoccupied with the readouts on his PADD

“Aye, sir. I’ll get started now and let you know when I’m done.”

A few hours later you were almost finished with your task when things went wrong; you heard the klaxon sound before the lights flashed, telling you that the ship was on yellow alert. Fishing your comm from a pocket of your uniform, you pulled it open. “Scotty, tell me what’s happening!” you shout over the noise currently making your head pound.

“I dunno, lass! The captain said there’s solar flares in a star system not far from here, they must be affecting the ship in some way.”

“What should I do, Scotty? Do you need help with anything?”

“Stay where you are, we may need the transporter up and running if something goes wrong.”

“But-”

“That’s an order, Y/N. Finish your job,” Scotty told you firmly before signing off. Sighing, you got back to work on the circuit board, trying not to worry too much about the safety of your ship and your crew.

Still working a few minutes later, you startled when a transporter tech ran into the room, breathing heavily. “What’s wrong, Johnson?”

“The ship’s communications are malfunctioning, the chief sent me to double check that everything is okay in here,” he told you. Furrowing your brow, wondering why Scotty didn’t just comm you.

“Nothing seems to be wrong, I’m still just working on reconnecting the wires to panel G,” you told the man. Just then, an electric current ran through the hull beside you. “Although now that I think about it, maybe we should get out of here,” you said, your eyes wide.

“Good idea, Y/L/N,” Johnson said, nodding his head quickly.

You stood up then, starting to gather your tools, but before you could make your way off of the transporter pad, a bright flash clouded your vision. You were knocked onto your back and saw Johnson run over to the communicator on the wall, speaking quickly into it. “Captain, we have a situation in the transporter room. Lieutenant Y/L/N has been shocked, and there’s electricity jumping everywhere in here.”

You faintly heard a reply from Jim through the ringing in your ears, all other noise is muffled. You tried to form words, but the thick haze taking over your mind made it hard to think, let alone reassure them that you were alive. Johnson was still speaking to Captain Kirk when you felt a familiar warmth enveloping your body, golden light the last thing you saw as you were beamed off the Enterprise.

You wake up with a pounding head, city sounds and sirens not helping the throbbing in your temples. You groggily open your eyes, immediately shutting them against the bright light shining in them. Cautiously cracking your eyelids once again, you find that the light isn’t a sun like you had thought, but is instead a neon light right above your head advertising a noodle restaurant.

Sitting up, you notice a sore back and a few bruises, but otherwise seem fine. You take in your surroundings, trying to figure out where you are, as the last thing you knew, you were aboard the Enterprise.

Deciding to explore, you brace yourself on the brick wall behind you and stand on wobbly legs. The side street you are on is not busy at all, only a few people walking past and not giving you a second glance. Apparently, they are accustomed to random humans appearing on the sidewalk in front of them. You make your way onto a busier avenue and look around at the bustling area.

Buildings surround you, bright signs contrasting against the dark gray brick. People rush around you, not paying attention to anything but their destination, and for that you’re grateful. You don’t need anybody asking questions that you don’t have the answer to.

You walk around for a while, observing the people around you and trying to figure out where you ended up, and when. You didn’t think anybody would bother you. And you didn’t think that you would be dragged into a side alley and pressed against a wall, but that didn’t prevent the person currently pressing his arm against your throat from doing just that.

“Give me your bitcoin,” he growls next to your face and you almost gag at the smell of alcohol on his breath. Looking over his shoulder, you witness his companion pulling out a knife. If only you had your phaser.

“My what,” you mumble, confused.

“Your bitcoin. Hand over your money or you’ll be bleeding through your pretty red dress there,” he almost growls.

“I don’t have any money, I just got here,” pulling your head back so you can be further from his face.

“Well then maybe you can offer us something else,” the man draws disgustingly close to you, running his finger over your cheek. You struggle more, thrashing in his grip and trying to get away. He draws closer and you scream, hoping that somebody would hear and come help, but knowing that it is unlikely.

“Police, step away from the girl,” you hear a voice shout, and the man actually does as he’s told, allowing you to drop to the ground as he runs away, down the alley. You hear the man that spoke run after the two of them.

“Are you alright, miss?” Looking up, you’re met with a pleasantly familiar face.

“Doctor McCoy?”

“Scotty, tell me what’s happening,” Kirk demands as soon as he reaches the transporter room, Bones trailing behind.

“I dinnae know, sir, I wasn’t in here when it happened. He was, though,” he points to Johnson who is still in shock.

“Johnson?” Jim coaxes, hoping to get an explanation.

“I was in here with Y/N,” he says, shaking himself out of his stupor. “She was working on the transporter pad. Sparks flew and when she went to leave, Y/N was knocked out. While I was calling you for a medical team, she disappeared.” Johnson gestures toward the transporter pad, not knowing what else to say.

Kirk cuts his eyes to Scotty, looking for a possible cause for your sudden absence. “So do you think the transporter activated and beamed her off the ship?”

“That seems the most likely, Jim. I’ll take a look at the circuits and the like, try and find out where she went,” Scotty says, getting to work.

“Johnson, I want you to go to medbay and get yourself checked out, you seem to be in shock. You can file your report on the incident later,” Leonard addresses the young officer who promptly does as he is told.

“I don’t know how this would have happened, but it’s not like we’ve never had problems with the transporter before. Do you think she’s alright?” Jim turns to his friend, eyes filled with concern for his crew member.

“There’s no way to know that, Jim, but if Y/N is alive still, then she’ll make it. She’s tough,” Len gives what he hopes is a convincing look, but inside he’s less than sure.

While Bones hasn’t spent a lot of time around Y/N, he enjoys her company. Every time she comes into medbay with an injury she doesn’t complain, just sits on the biobed and makes jokes while Leonard treats her burns, cuts, what have you. Len can’t help but wonder what would happen if they were to spend time together outside of professionalism and if he will ever get the chance to know.

His silent pondering is broken by a loud exclamation from beneath the transporter control panel. Scotty sits up, almost hitting his head, and makes his way over to his friends with urgency.

“Captain, Doctor McCoy. I think I know what happened.”

“And you’re sure she’s not from here?” Questions Captain Maldonado.

John Kennex speaks to the police Captain. “She says her name is Y/N Y/L/N, but when I searched her name I didn’t find her.”

“Maybe she’s using an alias,” Sandra shrugs.

John hesitates. “Yeah, I’d thought of that too, which is why I ran her fingerprints and facial recognition. It came up nothing. This girl has no identity, apparently.”

“That can’t be possible,” Sandra mutters to herself. “Where is she now?”

“She’s with Dorian filing an assault report.”

“That poor girl,” Maldonado shakes her head sadly. “Why don’t you go talk to her, try to find out where she’s really from. Get back to me with any new information.”

Once Sandra dismisses him, John makes his way back to the bullpen. Sitting next to his desk is Y/N, her now tattered red dress covered with a blanket as she recounts her attack to his android partner. John stands next to them for a few minutes listening to her story and making notes in his head. As he’s reviewing the entire report on his screen, John can’t help but wonder where she came from. After she is done speaking, he gives her a moment to recuperate and then speaks up.

“Y/N, you said you were just walking down the street when the perps dragged you into an alley. Can you think of any reason they would have targeted you?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Maybe because I was lost and didn’t know where I was going. That would be my first guess.”

“So you don’t know your way around the Koln Avenue District?” he questions casually.

“I’ve never been there before, I was just trying to find my way home.”

“And where do you live, Ms. Y/L/N?” The man narrows his eyes at you, waiting for you to say or do something off.

“I can’t tell you.”

“When were you born, Y/N?” Dorian, the kind android questions.

“I…” you trail off, remembering that you don’t know what the date is and not wanting to mess with the prime directive. “What is today’s stardate?”

“Stardate…?” Bones’ doppelganger questions slowly.

The sigh that leaves your mouth is more telling than anything else that you’ve said and you know it. The detectives raise their eyebrows and you know that now you have to explain.

“Alright, listen, Doctor McCoy… er, Detective Kennex, whatever. I am not supposed to tell you this, but I know that you’re not going to believe me anyway, so… What is the year? We are on Earth, right?”

“Erm, yeah, we’re on Earth… the year is 2048.” Kennex’s eyes are slanted and focussed on you.

“I guess you’re evolved enough to hear this,” you mutter and his eyes flicker in interest. You start talking reluctantly. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I am from the year 2263. I work as an engineer on the starship Enterprise where we are on a five-year mission through deep space, trying to explore new worlds and create strong relationships with alien species.”

John nods slowly, trying to absorb the information you have just relayed. Meanwhile Dorian reads your facial expression and heartbeat, making sure that you are telling the truth. He sends a nod to Kennex, silently communicating his findings.

John looks around the bullpen, noting how crowded it has become. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere else.”

“Please tell me that you’re not taking me to a mental institute, because that would make a bad night even worse,” your voice exasperated.

Kennex chuckles and reaches out a hand to help you out of your seat. “No darlin’, we’re not locking you up, just going somewhere else to talk. If this information is as sensitive as you say, maybe you don’t want detective Paul hearing it. He’s not very evolved.” The last sentence is whispered conspiratorially and you huff a small laugh, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the interrogation room.

You look around you, four glass walls make up the room and you’re worried about somebody looking in until Dorian brings up a screen that frosts the glass, and you relax a little. You’re sat across an interrogation table from Dorian, eyes on your folded hands while you wait for their questions, and you don’t have to wait for long.

John leans against your side of the table and looks down at you, wondering which of the million questions running through his head he should ask first. “So if you’re from the future, then how did you get here?”

“I was working on the transporter pad this morning, that’s when it started. Some wires were coming loose so I was sent to fix them. When I was almost done, something happened and there was electricity bouncing all around me. I was shocked and I passed out. I felt myself being beamed off the ship and the next thing I remember is waking up on the sidewalk.”

“What is a transporter?” Dorian asks curiously.

“It is an energy-matter scrambler, it can convert molecules into energy and then beam them somewhere else where they form back into their original form. It works with people, technology, cargo… You can beam anything, really,” you shrug as if that’s an easy concept.

“So what you’re telling me in a very science-y way, is that it’s just a mode of travel?” John’s eyebrow raises almost comically toward his hairline.

“How far were you from Earth? What kind of range does this transporter have?” Dorian’s scientific mind can’t help but be interested.

“The Enterprise is in a whole other star system. My boss Scotty says that someone can be beamed light-years away, but I’m not sure how correct that is. He’s been known to exaggerate from time to time.”

“Why do you think you were beamed here? Is there a reason that this would have happened without you meaning it to?”

“I don’t know, detective Kennex. Scotty said that there were solar flares not far from us and that some of the ship’s systems weren’t working properly. The increase in electromagnetic energy could have triggered the transporter malfunction, and since I was on the transporter pad, I was the only one beamed here. I have no idea why it sent me here, though.”

It’s silent for a few minutes after this, allowing you to think about the ship. You miss the Enterprise, you miss your friends, you miss the sound of the warp core humming and keeping you calm. You are in an unfamiliar place and time and you have no idea how to get home. Things aren’t looking great for you right now. You can’t help but think that maybe they’re looking for you. That any minute now, Captain Kirk would show up with Scotty and Leonard in tow, ready to take you back to the 23rd century. The thought comforts you, letting your mind calm for the first time since you woke up in this strange place.

While you were thinking, your body had been relaxing. You catch your head from drooping onto the table and John and Dorian notice, pausing their quiet conversation. “Let’s get you somewhere to sleep darlin’, you’ve had a long day,” John says, guiding you down the hall.

“Where are we going now,” you mumble sleepily, your head on John’s shoulder as you walk.

“Somewhere you can sleep for tonight, we’ll get back to questions in the morning,” Kennex says and you go with them, hoping that tomorrow you will be closer to getting home.

part two

#john kennex x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #almost human #star trek #startrekcrossoverchallenge #another time another place

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written-rebellion · 6 years

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Perfect Distractions

A/N: Thanks so so much to everyone reading! I get deliriously excited whenever I see another like or reblog, especially since this is my first time posting any sort of fanfic on tumblr <3 <3 Extra special thanks to @scotsmanandsassenach @annalisedemoodboards @aruza83 @laythornmuse @fishermanslass @marshmallow0810 @rancar47 @underhillhobbitgirl @leftcoaster88 @annagoober for the reblogs and lovely messages and comments! I’m so glad you’re all enjoying the story :D

Also! Tiny bit of housekeeping, I’ve figured out a completely arbitrary (but now set in stone) schedule, to posting the next few chapters - just so my writing can stay ahead of the posts going up. You can expect new chapters every Thursday and Sunday (until/unless I hit some fatal attack of writer’s block). :)

Claire hates magnets, Jamie hates autopilot, and as always, all the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think! #MurtaghMadeMeDoIt

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1]

Part Two: Separation Anxiety | Chapter 2

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was mulling over five different edits of a text message and seven different ways to make Joe Abernathy’s murder look like an accident.

She was leaning against a pillar just outside the lobby of her residence, thankful that most people were already either huddled up in their room or away at dinner. Or on dates. Like her.

Or not like her. Or possibly like her? She stomped her heel with a grunt, and then straightened her back, inhaling quickly through her nose as she hit send without another thought.

> Sorry for texting out of the blue. No worries if you already had plans…

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Beauchamp. And just what exactly did that ellipses mean to imply? That she’d be disappointed if he did have plans? That there was room to reschedule? That she was getting her hopes up for a date that wasn’t a date — that she didn’t even mean to ask for — but was now altogether dismayed and excited and no small amount of mortified at the very notion?

“Your man will be here,” Joe had said. Her man.

“Far bloody from it,” she murmured, thumping the back of her head against the pillar, feebly trying to stop him from coming to mind.

James Fraser. Jamie. That absurd red-headed idiot who threw pebbles into her third-floor window. He was infuriating and persistent, that one. And Claire was loathe to admit that their last impromptu study break had resulted in a well-rested mind and a shining grade on her midterm.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she almost dropped it. Not a great sign for a future surgeon, she thought derisively as she opened the message.

> Dinna fash lass, I cancelled those. I’ll be at yer place in 5

Her lips curved upwards involuntarily at the thought of him cancelling his plans, but she snapped out of it and scowled. Christ, what was happening to her? Why was this happening to her? She was a far cry from the dream-headed teenagers of Lifetime original movies. And yet, she’d woken up snuggled bodily against her pillows more times this week than she’d care to admit.

He was like a disease really, metastasizing and invading her every thought and action.

And not a bad-looking one, at that, said the more defiant recesses of her mind. She could still feel the phantom echo of his thumb against her cheek, making them flush of their own free will.

If she was being honest, she liked him. She liked him a lot. He was charming, almost to a fault, and was always so earnest in his actions that she found herself forgiving his small idiocies as if he were a child. He was also most gracious after she tackled him that first day in the library, which was as sweet as it was maddening. She’d said as much to him before, but whenever he was around, the constant buzzing in her brain seemed to shut down. His smile calmed even her stormiest thoughts.

What she hated was this: these moments apart where her mind was free to dream up all manner of anxiety, like the minutes before an exam but so much worse. The white noise came back tenfold, as if to make up for lost time. It was like the tension between two magnets just before they clicked together.

She also hated how much she wanted to click together.

She hated that the most.

---

He knew it was a mistake exactly 0.3 seconds after he clicked send. With no John to backseat text, Jamie had typed whatever came to mind before that same mind had the chance to walk him straight back to his room, let him cocoon under his blankets and slowly die of shame.

Why in God’s holy name would he tell her he cancelled his plans? So much for not looking too eager. He wanted to slow down his pace to think it over, but goddammit, he’d said he’d be there in five minutes. He was grateful for the autopilot his body seemed to operate on, willing his legs to move before the rest of him – stumbling around thoughts and scenarios and topics of conversation – could follow.

She’d texted him. She did. There was no more lingering doubt that she was only humouring his antics, and she’d told him so the other night. She needed him.

Or well, something akin to that. He couldn’t exactly remember the phrasing at the moment. His heart was singing too loudly to hear.

An icy jolt ran through him then and would’ve stopped him cold in his step had he not been oath-bound to make it to her door in the next 2 minutes and 34 seconds.

Jesus, he’d been so utterly spellbound by her saying his name that he’d touched her face without thinking. It seemed so natural to do so, to rub his thumb across the arches of blue pen painted on her cheek. And – curse that autopilot after all – he’d reached out and made contact before the rest of him even realized.

And her face. Dhia, that creeping blush and small quiver in her lips. His body ached to still them with his own, but thank heaven for small mercies, he’d managed to regain a semblance of control, managed to instead get lost in the lilt of her voice and the pools of whisky in her eyes.

Eyes that were now searching around for, presumably, him as she leaned against the front pillar of her residence. His legs finally slowed to a stop.

“Sassenach…”

Attention caught, she turned to him immediately with a wide doe-eyed expression that melted into a small smile of recognition. She walked towards him, closing the gap between them.

She was pulled towards him like the magnets she adamantly refused to liken them to.

Click went her heels as they hit the pavement and stopped right in front of him.

“We’re back to that name, are we?”

“Aye.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned down at her. “If ye like.”

“I did sort of miss it,” she said, feeling suddenly quite dull. How long had it been since she’d been on a date, let alone a first date? C’mon Beauchamp, you can do better than this.

She opened her mouth to say something – anything – but, he’d already drawn in a breath to speak so she let him.

“How was yer exam, by the way? Did ye do alright?”

“Oh well, y’know…” She brushed her hair back, letting her feigned humility last for less than a whole second before the honest joy poured out. “I got a 93!”

“That’s fantastic, lass!” he said happily, and he meant it. The strikingly warm hand now pressed into her arm told her so. “I’m verra proud of ye!”

Her smile shrunk, not wanting him to know how pleased that made her, nor how his hand on her arm was warming her whole body.

“And ye’re welcome too.” That startled her, pulling her head down from its rapid ascent into the clouds.

“For what, exactly?” Smile gone, eyes narrowing.

His hand left her as he crossed his arms, grin widening.

“For takin’ ye on a walk the other night, to clear yer heid.” He nodded, setting off Claire’s more familiar – and oddly comforting – urge to smack him.

“As I recall, I was the one taking you out for a walk that night.” She held her scrutinizing glare for half a second more before breaking into laughter. “No dogs on the premises, remember?”

He laughed too, shoulders relaxing as he let his arms fall loose from his chest.

“Ah well,” he said. “I suppose we’d best get off the premises then, aye?”

“Where did you have in mind?”

“Oh, I dinna ken, Sassenach. You were the one who called me here, weren’t ye?”

No, actually I wasn’t, but God bless Joe Abernathy, the nosy little bugger.

“Fair point.” One slim finger found her chin as she weighed their options, surveying the campus grounds behind him. “Food?”

When their eyes met again, he was staring intently at her, the same way he’d done that night before he reached up to touch her cheek. She could have sworn he’d meant to kiss her then and – for fuck’s flying sake – she was terrified of the fact that she would have let him.

“W-what?”

The look was gone as quickly as it came. He shook his head, ruddy curls swishing about.

“Nothin’, just my favourite word, that.”

“You and every other student on campus.” She snorted, turning from him to start in the direction of a small diner she’d taken a liking to. “I know where we can still find a table though.” With a look over her shoulder, she allowed herself to smile at him as widely and honestly as she’d like.

“Are you coming?”

“Aye,” he said softly, and a chill ran down her spine. “Aye, I’m right behind ye.”

Read Chapter 3

#murtagh made me do it #murtaghmademedoit #outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #wr writing #perfect distractions au #technically its sunday rn if you set for daylight savings ahead of time #i was just really excited to post ok?

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years

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Hope in Change - Part Two

Part One

“Yer name wouldna be Bonnet by any chance?” Murtagh spoke before Roger managed to find the words.

There was a brief flash of surprise in Bonnet’s eyes but then a smile broke across his face.

“My reputation precedes me,” he said, eyeing Murtagh carefully. “Or, have we met before and I am bein’ remiss in my inability to remember ye?”

“That ring there,” Murtagh indicated his hand. “I ken who ye stole it from and the other crimes as were committed when ye took it. As well as a few who wouldna mind testifyin’ did ye come to stand trial for it. No that tha’ would be necessary,” Murtagh continued, his volume rising as the color in Bonnet’s face drained slightly. “Seein’ as ye were already condemned to die and I’m sure the law would be more’n happy should a concerned citizen seek to aid them in apprehendin’ ye again.”

“That so,” Bonnet challenged, quietly, before looking over his shoulder toward a table where several of his crew waited for his return.

Murtagh looked to the innkeeper behind the bar—not a Regulator himself but a sympathizer who let his boy run messages when it was too dangerous for the men themselves to be seen in one another’s company. The innkeeper nodded. His boy had gone. Reinforcements would be standing by if they were needed.

“I don’ consider myself a quarrelsome man,” Bonnet mused. “I’m simply a captain tryin’ to be sure a man I hired for a job finishes it. That he doesna lay the burden of his work on his fellow men. They might take offense, ye see, and it’s to me falls the task of keepin’ the peace among them… and protectin’ those as does them wrong from… excessive retribution.”

“Is that a threat?” Brianna asked, steel in her voice. Murtagh’s lip twitched up in the corner. Brash and loyal, like both her parents.

Bonnet looked taken aback and horrified by the suggestion.

“Certainly not. As I said, it’s a promise of protection. I’m here on a mission of peace,” Bonnet insisted, humbly. “Here. As a token of my goodwill.” He took the ring from his finger and offered it to Brianna. “Ye can keep it for yerself or, wi’ the assistance of that man there,” he nodded to Murtagh, “ye can return it to the lady as gave it into my keeping.”

Murtagh huffed, showing them all what he thought of Bonnet’s offer.

Brianna’s eyes were cold as ice as she reached to take the ring from him (he might be full of shit but she wasn’t going to let the opportunity to reclaim her mother’s ring pass her by, especially when she was safely tucked between Murtagh on one side, Roger on the other).

The ring clutched between her fingers, Bonnet grabbed her hand, hard. Murtagh and Roger both started, ready to rise and attack if Bonnet made the wrong move.

Bonnet ignored them, his eyes on Brianna and the color flooding her cheeks. He pressed his lips to her fingers and then released her hand.

Roger stood and moved toward Bonnet, towering over him.

“I apologize, cap’n for wandering in search of the lady upon landin.’ It wasna my intention to betray my promise to ye, only to fulfill a prior promise to see she was safe,” Roger told Bonnet. He had none of Bonnet’s skill for falsehood so the excuse rang hollow, but it wasn’t sincerity that mattered.

Murtagh slipped his hand to Brianna’s elbow and gave her a squeeze, warning her against interrupting.

“Now I ken she is, I shall be more’n happy to return with ye to the ship and make my apologies to the others. I’ve no doubt ye’ll… keep the peace, as ye say,” Roger finished.

Bonnet smirked. “I’m a man of my word, Mackenzie. And I’m no unsympathetic to the pangs of love. As ye left the others to unload when we docked, it’ll be you has guard tonight while the others take their pleasure on land. But, I’ll give ye an hour more wi’ yer lady love fore ye need to be back on deck at yer post. The lady deserves ye to give her a proper farewell after all,” he leered in Brianna’s direction then leaned to Roger, his eyes still watching Brianna and added loud enough for all of them to hear, “It wouldna take more’n a few minutes wi’ a luscious lass like that, but take yer time to be sure she enjoys it too.” He nudged Roger who’d achieved a level of calm that left him frozen, then Bonnet strode back to the others.

Brianna’s face burned and Murtagh turned to spit on the floor where Bonnet had stood.

“Just listening to him makes me want to go take a hot shower,” Brianna said under her breath, shuddering and unconsciously wiping her hand on her skirts. “How did that man get Mama’s ring?” she asked Murtagh.

“It’s a long story that yer parents can tell ye better, but they took pity on him and did him a kindness and he did worse than spit in their faces for it,” Murtagh explained. “Attacked and robbed them on their way to yer aunt Jocasta’s home at River Run. Killed a friend of yer da’s in the process.”

“He’s a right bastard wi’ a seat in Hell reserved special for ‘im all right,” Roger agreed. “I cannae even find words to describe the things I saw him do. I should ha’ kent better’n to risk skippin’ out so fast. Now I’ve put ye on his radar. It’s more’n a common blessing we ran into Murtagh.” Roger turned to the older man, gratitude in his eyes. “Ye can get her away and keep her safe, aye? Ye’ll get her safe to her folks?”

“Ye have my word,” Murtagh nodded, his expression solemn and sincere. “Lass, it might be better if ye come away wi’ me tonight. If Bonnet’s men ken Mackenzie here’ll be away and that ye’re stayin’ here, and they bear him ill will…”

Brianna looked between the men on either side of her with disbelief and resistance brimming. “You’re not serious? You don’t really think that he’d… just to get back at Roger?”

“There’s the history wi’ yer parents to consider as well. A man like that…”

“It’s better safe than sorry,” Roger agreed. “As soon as fill my agreement wi’ him, I’ll make my way back to ye on the Ridge. We can make new plans from there. It may be a time before we can journey back to Scotland and the stones.”

Brianna shook her head and pushed up from the table, heading for the stairs. Roger followed close on her heels, all too aware of Bonnet and his men still watching them.

At the landing Brianna turned on Roger, backing him against the wall.

“I can’t believe you’re going to just go along with what that bastard Bonnet says,” she hissed at him. “From everything you two have said, he can’t be trusted. I don’t like the idea of you putting yourself in danger like this.”

Roger smiled. “I dinna like it either but I think I’m in slightly less danger if I do as he says. And I’d rather keep my eye on him than worry about him havin’ his eye on you.” Roger leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.

She sighed and brought her hands up to his chest, leaning in and tucking her head into his neck, relaxing as his arms came up around her.

“I know I didn’t want you to come because I didn’t want you to stop me… but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Aye, me too. I’ve missed ye and been tryin’ to think of a way to put things right ‘tween us since… everythin’ at the gatherin’ there.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Brianna murmured. “I just want to be together.”

“Ye cannae mean…” Roger pulled back, a confused look on his face.

Brianna laughed. “Not now, no.” She shivered. “Certainly not after… Ugh, hearing him say that—the way he said it… No, anything he suggests makes me want to do the exact opposite.”

“Yer honor is safe wi’ me,” Roger assured her.

Brianna rolled her eyes. “Hate to break it to ya but I don’t keep my honor between my legs and I don’t think you do either. Though,” her mouth quirked into a playful smile and her hand began to slide down his waist. “Perhaps I should check…”

He took her hand and brought it back to rest over his heart.

“No. Honor’s here. Love too,” he added, his voice low and rough. “I will find ye again. If ye’ll wait for me.”

“If you take too long, I might have to come find you myself.”

“I ken better’n to keep you waiting.” He bent his head and kissed her, his hands sliding to her waist as hers circled his neck.

She pulled back and tucked her forehead against his breast bone. “I love you, Roger. Even when I get frustrated with you or you say things that make me furious—like ‘I’m going to go off with the murderer.’ I love you and promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I love you and I promise you I’ll be careful.”

They stood for another long moment, reluctant to part but knowing it was an unavoidable.

“Right,” Brianna said at last, pulling away. “I need to go talk with Lizzie. If we’re not staying here tonight, I need to help her get our things packed and ready to go wherever it is Murtagh’s going to take us.”

#;mod lenny #Hope in Change AU #featuring: brianna #featuring: roger #featuring: murtagh #featuring: stephen bonnet #show!verse

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gotham-ruaidh · 7 years

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Shifted - Part 6, Chapter 8

Every Tuesday I’ll be posting a chapter from my brand new AU story. The premise is simple - what if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?

Previous installments…

Part 6 - The Honeymoon

Lallybroch, Summer 1763

Chapter 8

“Found anything?”

Claire squinted up at Jamie. “No, false alarm. Still looking.” She rose from her crouch by the stream, rubbing her back and stretching her arms. “I see you had better luck, though?”

A glistening string of trout hung from his hand, swaying gently. “We willna go hungry today, that’s for sure.”

He extended his free hand to Claire, and she took it gladly. “You want to stay another day, then?”

“Aye – there’s no rush to go back, Sassenach. The bairns and house can mind themselves for a wee bit.” He squeezed her fingers, squinting into the noon sun. “You and I – we need this time. Not that we don’t get time at home, but it’s different, now, ken?”

She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. They’d been at the cottage two full days now – two languid, heavenly days. They hadn’t spent this much time alone together since the Rising.

Claire hadn’t realized just how much she needed this time with him. No children, chores, patients, nieces and nephews, servants, or tenants to distract them.

They’d talked and talked and talked. About small things, shared memories, hopes, and dreams. Making love whenever they felt like it – near the fire, on the settle, in the grass atop Jamie’s plaid. The same plaid he had proudly worn since they arrived.

He hadn’t worn a plaid daily since Brianna was born. Seeing him in his kilt and plaid, a string of fish in one hand, the sun lighting his hair from behind, she stepped back almost twenty years.

“It’s nice to have the quiet. As long as I’ve got you to share it with.” She turned to him, and he met her smile.

“Aye. Wi’ ye by my side, mo nighean donn, I know I can do anything.”

They’d reached the cottage – Claire held the door open for him and stayed in the doorframe, admiring how the back of his kilt gently swung back and forth in tandem with his bootsteps.

“We’ve a bit of bread from Mrs. Crook, no? That should go well wi’ the fish.” Jamie knelt before the fire, wakened the coals, and started skewering the fish to roast.

“Sounds lovely.” Claire shut the door and strode over to the small table, laying their two plates side by side and unwrapping the last hunk of bread from Lallybroch. Behind her the fish sizzled and popped over the fire.

She surveyed the small room. It had been the ultimate decadence to leave their bed unmade this morning – their pillow in the center, her spare shift askew at the foot, Jamie’s trews in a pool near the head. It looked like a bed shared by lovers – not a respectable married couple.

Claire softly smiled to herself as she sank into one chair and watched her husband cook their supper. Just being in the same room as him – sharing each other’s company, sharing the same space – was enough. He was enough.

“Didn’t you tell me once that fish were not an unprecedented wedding gift?”

He turned to her, grinning. “Aye. Yer memory of those three days seems a lot sharper now than it’s ever been, Sassenach.”

She returned his smile. “Now that I think of it, they were among some of the happiest days in my life.” She paused, thoughtful. “Tell me – what were the happiest days of your life, Jamie?”

He extended one hand for a plate and she gave it to him, watching him remove several charred fish from the grate over the fire. “Hmm. The days the bairns were born, to be sure. The day I received my pardon and knew I was back at Lallybroch for good. The day William put on his plaid by himself for the first time. The day Brianna punched that Chisholm lad in the mouth for insulting ye.” She grinned and switched the full plate for the empty one. He lay the last of the fish on that plate and rose to sit next to her.

“Aren’t you missing a few?”

He eased his chair closer to hers so that their thighs and knees touched. “Weel, there’s the obvious ones, then. The day we wed. The day ye chose me, that first time at the stones.” He kissed her cheek. “Do ye think it possible to realize ye’d had a good day only years afterward?”

She squeezed his bare knee and took a bite out of one fish. “Mmphmm. I think so. What do you have in mind?”

He tore a hunk of bread and lay the rest on her plate. “The day I met ye – when ye mended my shoulder and tended to the gunshot wound.”

“Why would that be happy, Jamie? You were hurt, I kept you from bleeding to death, you were an outlaw in the company of your hostile uncle.” He raised a brow, but she interrupted. “And don’t tell me some nonsense about how you were happy to be with me, because despite what you’ve told me there’s no way you fell in love with me the first time you saw me.”

He grinned. “Weel, I actually fell in love wi’ ye the day after I met ye – and I’d add that to the list. No – that day, Sassenach, was happy for me because the path of my life changed. Had it not been for ye tending to me at the castle, or being someone I could talk to – I dinna ken what other kinds of trouble I would have gotten into.”

She cast her eyes down to her plate, focusing on a pile of neatly stacked fish bones. “And you like where that path has taken you, then?”

He nudged her chin up and met her gaze. “It led me here, to this moment, with you. Aye, I do like where it’s taken me.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Tell me – what are your happiest days?”

“Besides the ones you mentioned? Well – I could say the end of the War – the World War. But I was so numb to everything then that I wasn’t really happy because it was over, only because it meant I could go home. And – I suppose the day I chose you the second time at the stones. And if you were happy on the days the children were born – I was happy on the days I told you I was pregnant.”

Slowly, thoughtfully he turned his body and rested his forehead against hers. He grasped her hands tightly. “And the day at the abbey – in the spring – when ye told me about Faith. Claire, I – I canna tell ye how much that little bit of joy healed me, after – ” He swallowed.

“Shh. Don’t think about that, not now – please don’t think about that.” She gathered him close and pressed his face into her neck. “Come back. You’re here, with me. Wearing your bloody kilt for the whole world to see. And I’m eating your burned fish and letting you get my shift all wet with snot because I love you, you idiot.”

He laughed softly and raised his head to kiss her for a long while.

“Ye taste like fish,” he said some time later.

She butted her nose against his. “And whose fault is that, do you think?”

He kissed her cheek. “Thank ye for bringing me back, just now” he said softly. “I dinna think of it every day anymore, and ye ken I dinna dream of it as much as I used to. But it’s still – there – almost like I can touch it. And I dinna think it will ever go away.” He swallowed. “That’s another of my happiest days, Claire – the day ye used yer magic to save me at the abbey.”

She traced her thumb against the “C” she’d carved into his hand the previous day. His wounds had long ago healed – and daily exercises with his ball of rags had almost restored the hand and fingers to their full range of motion. She’d given him a small gift when they arrived at the cottage – a jar of cream she’d made herself, after hours of boiling down goose grease and camphor and other fragrant herbs, which she’d rubbed into his aching hand and fingers every morning and night since they’d arrived. He’d said it helped relax the muscles, easing the pain she knew he had lived with daily since the hand had been injured almost twenty years before.

“It wasn’t magic. Just a bit of acting, and opium. And determination, I suppose.”

“It was magic, Claire. To me.” He kissed her eyelids. “I want to tell ye something, and I dinna wish ye to think I’m daft.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m worried already.”

He sighed. “I have thought so many times about all the things that happened right when we were first acquaint. How many wonderful and terrible things happened to us. And how many of those things in those first years were due to Randall.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Jamie – ”

“He ruined my life, and Jenny’s life, and your life. He is the reason my father is dead. He kept me from my home and family for years. He is the reason Faith is dead. He is the reason I have a crippled hand.” His voice was thick – and when she met his gaze, his eyes swam with tears. Overcome, she released his hand and cupped his cheeks.

“Jamie, stop. I know all this. Don’t bring him in here, between us now.”

He shook his head. “But Claire – had he not had me arrested and flogged and caused me to leave Scotland, I would have never been wi’ Dougal and the others when Murtagh found you, right after ye fell through the stones. He made the marks on my back, but it’s those marks that got me talking to ye right away – got me trusting ye and telling ye about the price on my heid. And I marrit ye to keep ye safe from him.”

He swallowed and breathed deeply. “And then - sometimes I wonder whether I ever would have had a chance wi’ you, if things had been different,” he said quietly. “I would have had much more to offer ye, had it no’ been for him. I would have had a chance to win your heart the proper way, by courting you over weeks and months. And giving ye the proper wedding ye deserved – no’ a ceremony held by a bribed priest, under the threat of violence from my uncle, and attended only by strangers.”

Her fingers trembled. She grazed his thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the tears. “Jamie –”

His eyes, wild, met hers. “Claire – don’t ye understand? I never would ha’ met ye, never would ha’ married you, never would ha’ lived had it not been for him.”

She had no words. Silently she pulled back her chair and led him over to the bed, easing him to sit on the edge while she knelt before him.

Jamie’s eyes, unfocused, were far away. “So I canna truly hate him. Even though I should. Even though I forgave him long ago. He gave me the greatest gift I ever received – you, and our life together.”

She gently eased off his boots before standing before him. She undid her hair. She unbuttoned her shawl and flung it on the bed. She undid her stays and dropped them to the floor. She slipped out of her gown and tossed it behind her – all the while watching Jamie’s gaze.

When she was finally in her shift she saw him startle and look up questioningly to meet her eyes.

“Welcome back,” she said softly.

He gaped. “Christ. Claire. I -”

She eased toward him and sat astride his knees. “Are you here now, with me? Because if I have your attention, I have a few things to say to you.”

He nodded and placed a large hand on her thigh. He buried his nose in the valley between her breasts, breathing deeply.

She twined her fingers into his hair and held him close. “All of what you said may be true, Jamie. It’s remarkable how such small choices – such small events – have such incredible impacts on our lives. Like how if I hadn’t seen those forget-me-nots at Craigh Na Dun, I never would have touched the stone. Never would have found you.”

He inhaled and exhaled – big, deep breaths – and gripped her thigh tightly.

It had been years since they’d talked about this – years since he’d allowed himself to think about the cataclysmic events that had led him to her - that had tested them, torn them apart, but ultimately brought them back to each other, bound tighter than ever before. And as much as she wanted to stop, she knew that he had to get it all out. That she had to get it all out. And then maybe, just maybe, they could finally lay the ghosts to rest.

“But Jamie – had I not gone through the War, I never would have learned to be a nurse. Had I not been married to Frank, I never would have even been in Scotland – and never would have known what happened right after Culloden. So I never would have been able to save you, and Lallybroch.”

Slowly her hand found his – her J pressing directly into his C. She bent to whisper in his ear.

“Our marriage was hasty, yes. And I was reluctant, yes. But I was falling for you, Jamie. I knew from the moment we met that you were more thoughtful, considerate, gentle, and selfless than any man I’d ever known. Than I thought a man could ever be.”

He hummed against her breasts. She pushed his head closer to her body.

“You would never have needed to court me. You are all I’ve ever needed – not your home, not your estate, not anything material. You are enough. Will always be enough.” She licked her lips. “You are my true match. In every way. You understand me and respect me like nobody ever has. You love me, and make love to me, like no man ever has.”

His hand left hers and skimmed down her thigh to cup gently between her legs. She gasped.

“I would have found you,” she whispered, breathless. “I would have married you, and loved you, and bore your children, no matter the circumstances.”

His fingers began stroking her gently. He raised his eyes to meet hers, reveling in how her breathing was picking up.

“You are my true match, mo nighean donn. I love ye more than any man has ever loved a woman.”

Claire steeled herself, stood, and shrugged out of her shift. Jamie gaped. She cupped her heavy breasts in her hands, thumb circling her aching nipples. “Take me, Jamie,” she whispered. “Take what’s yours – what always has been yours, what always will be yours.”

He swallowed hard and rose to stand before her. Gently, quickly, she unbuckled his kilt and he whipped his shirt over his head. Finally naked, he seized her mouth in a deep kiss, picking her up effortlessly and easing her onto the bed.

She wrapped her legs around him and reached down to guide him inside of her. His hand stilled hers, though, and she whimpered.

She felt his wide, sweet smile against her lips. “Open yer eyes.”

She did, gasping. Blue met blue. “Eyes on me,” he whispered. “Always on me. Let me show ye what I canna find the words to say, Claire.”

He gently pushed deeper inside of her, and his soul touched hers, and they healed.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #shifted

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imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years

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As Yet Unread: Part 4.

Anonymous said: Where can I find the link As yet Unred... I have been reading it in bits and Pieces. Thank you

-- I took this from my personal blog, I hope you don’t mind, Anon. Please find all the previous parts attached here as well as the newest chapter --

Prologue (i) (ii). Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Sitting patiently in the flattened chair, Claire kept her good hand clenched around the faded leather of the seat. Jamie leaned against an empty table, his gaze unapologetically trained on Claire as they waited for Dr Gowan to return with the x-rays.

“Ye ken if yer arm--”

“Yes,” Claire interrupted, her excitement palpable, “it’ll be fine, I know it.”

She was almost vibrating, her hands tapping out a nervous rhythm against the base of the chair and Jamie didn’t want to quash her hopes if she was feeling so positive about the diagnosis.

Dr Gowan had promised that if Claire’s arm had healed enough and her fingers were in a similar condition she could go home with Jamie today and, even though the light had long since faded and most of the other specialists had gone home, Ned was going to stay in order to complete the tests needed to see if Claire was fit enough for release.

“Jamie,” Dr Gowan called from the doorway, “can I just borrow ye for a moment?”

“Of course,” he replied, smiling over at Claire before exiting the room behind Ned.

Closing the door, Ned turned to Jamie with a serious glint in his eye. “It’s important I just talk to ye about the implications of releasing Claire wi’ her night terrors still untreated, aye?”

“So she’s fit to leave then?” He asked, his chest lightening with the news. At least she had been right about her own health.

“Aye, she is. Her arm can come out of plaster but she’ll still need some physio on it, and she’ll need to come back in two to three weeks to have the cast of her leg and some rehabilitation. The muscles will ha’ wasted, ye ken, and she’ll need help adjusting to walking again. But that’s no’ my main concern now. My worry is that as much as she wants to escape her hospital bed, she hasna considered what life will be like now. It’s new and scary. Also, the last time she left a building she came to some harm, that sort of memory doesna fade so easily. She could verra well have a panic attack and be unable to leave. What I want to ken is what will ye do if she gets herself to the doors and these memories show themselves?”

“I canna fail her now, Ned,” Jamie replied, scratching his forehead nervously. “If I have to gather her in my arms and carry her to the car I will. I dinna ken much about post traumatic stress, its symptoms or its cures, but she needs a better place to heal mentally. That isna here and ye ken it well. The pills and the sedatives make her crabbit and miserable - as much as they do help some, they dinna help her. She’s stronger than any of us can even comprehend, Doc, so I have to gi’ her a chance to get better.”

“Alright then, Jamie lad. I trust ye. But you need to promise that you’ll contact me if yer worried about anything at all. I willna force her to stay somewhere that’s no’ helping her, mentally, but I expect that at some point the memories of her past punishments will rear up and swallow her whole. When that happens make sure ye dinna let yerself get in over yer head. If she needs access to anything at all, whether that be medication or an appointment wi’ a psychologist, call me.”

Nodding, Jamie followed as Ned walked back into the room with a large smile on his face.

“Good news, Claire,” Dr Gowan said, his hand reaching for the elasticated bandages that lay on the tray table beside the reclined chair, “yer arm is looking fairly stable though you are going to have to keep it wrapped and secured to yer chest - at least while yer resting. I’ve spoken to Jamie just to make sure yer homecare routine is set, and I’m happy for you to go home and recover in private. How does that sound?”

Loitering in the doorway to her private room, Claire leaned forwards on her crutches, getting used to the sensation of the plastic covered metal that now rested beneath her armpits. Jamie had banished her as he packed the few belongings that she’d accrued into a bag that Murtagh had brought over a few days previously.

“Anyone would think ye couldna wait to get away, lass.” Jamie joked as he folded her last jumper - one that Ellen had knitted and sent down with Jenny - and placed on the top of the filled bag before zipping it closed and placing it on top of his own jacket.

“Are you sure you want me in your home, Jamie?” She asked, her eyes wide and sincere as she leaned most of her weight on her good leg and swung the other backwards and forwards.

She was shaking but trying to hide it with the motion of her cast.

“Dinna fash,” Jamie replied, making his way over to Claire slowly. Placing his hand gently on the swell of her cheek, he rubbed the pad of his thumb against her flushed skin, “Jenny and Suzette have been in and made ye the perfect room wi’ nice furniture and decor - something I know verra little about - but it’s safe to say that yer more than wanted in my home, Claire.”

Closing her eyes, Claire sighed and tilted her head so that it rested more fully in Jamie’s palm.

“Are ye scared, Claire?” Jamie asked honestly, feeling a slight quiver run through her.

“Terrified.” She confessed.

“I’m here. I promise ye that, lass. I told Ned the same. Whatever happens from here on out, I’ll get ye home. Do ye trust in that?”

“Yes,” she whispered lowly, “just don’t leave me here.”

“I willna do that.”

Walking down the hall towards the admissions reception, Jamie let Claire lead the way as he carried her belongings. They’d signed the release papers in the room and Claire was free to leave without any further checks. Worried about Claire’s admission and Dr Gowan’s warning, Jamie kept a close eye on Claire but he didn’t want to place any of his fears onto her just in case they manifest into reality when they wouldn’t otherwise have surfaced but he didn’t want to be caught unawares either.

“Murtagh’s coming for us.” Jamie said happily as he walked through the sliding doors next to Claire, his finger pointing towards the short term car park, “I think he’ll be waiting for us.”

“Did he not want to come in?” Claire asked, her voice wobbling a little as she spoke but she seemed to right herself as they turned left out of the hospital.

“I didna want to crowd ye, neither did he.” Jamie answered honestly, unwilling to openly lie to her about his intentions. “Ye’ve been through a lot, Claire,” he said, looking left and right as they crossed over the small road. She still seemed happy enough as they approached the small Ford containing Murtagh and wee Fergus, “and we just want ye home now, aye? Though I’m sure Jenny is arranging something to celebrate as we speak. She’s a whirlwind, that one.” He joked.

Climbing from the car, Murtagh rushed round to take the small bag from Jamie. Placing it in the boot he came back to open the front passenger side door for Claire. “Ye can sit up front wi’ me,” he said cheerfully, “or ye can keep Fergus company in the back. Where would ye like to sit, Claire?”

Claire had met Fergus before when Suzette had brought him to the hospital. It was strange, she knew about babies from her biology A Level all those years ago, but she’d never actually seen one. Fergus seemed incredibly fragile to her and, although she knew he was actually so very resilient and strong, his tiny limbs scared her.

Glancing through to the back seat, Claire locked eyes with wee Fergus, his bouncy curls -so very much like hers- sliding in front of his eyes as he scrunched his nose and laughed freely. Claire smiled along with him, captivated by his bonnie blue eyes and his varied facial expressions.

“I-I’ll sit in the back,” she said finally, stepping away from the front of the car towards the rear, “if you don’t mind that is.”

“O’ course no’!” Murtagh laughed. “Fergus likes the car, if ye put yer finger in his hand he’ll hold onto ye as we ride.”

Perching herself in the back, Jamie took the crutches from her and placed them in the boot before climbing into the front passenger seat beside Murtagh.

Listening for the click of her seatbelt as he did his own, Jamie watched Claire in the rear-view mirror as Murtagh pulled the car out of the car park and back onto the main road. She seemed comfortable enough but her gaze was fixed on the youngest Fraser bairn as Fergus smacked his lips together playfully. Jamie observed Fergus as he reached his tiny hand upwards, wiggling his fingers in between Claire’s curls as she bobbed her head as she let him play.

It wasn’t until - only moments from Jamie’s flat - Fergus gripped a little too hard that Claire’s mental wall finally came crumbling down. Jamie watched in subdued horror as her eyes glazed and she drew herself back as close to the door as possible. Sensibly, Fergus immediately let go of her hair and went back to tugging at the stuffed dog Murtagh had placed in his lap.

Claire didn’t make a sound but her heart was thudding mercilessly in her chest as she curled her good leg up towards her chest and squeezed her eyes closed. She could feel him circling her, his harsh grip keeping her head elevated as the invisible threat whirled around her in the small back seat. Bile rose along her throat and she clamped her mouth shut to stop herself from throwing up in Murtagh’s clean care.

Murtagh; she thought blearily…

...she wasn’t stuck, bound and gagged on the floor of her old home. No, she was safe, with Jamie and on her way to *his* flat. But she couldn’t pull herself from the memory. Biting her lip hard, Claire tried to repeat to herself over and over. It’s alright, she whispered to herself, he’s not here. I’m safe.

Strong arms surrounded her, the warmth of them giving her a reprieve from the daggers that were digging into her fragile flesh. She realised, belatedly, that she’d been clenching her body so tight that she’d begun to get pins and needles through her feet and hands and that her calves had started to cramp making them almost too sore to move.

“It’s okay,” she heard a far off voice mutter mirroring the words she’d been chanting to herself, “yer safe, a ghraidh. It’s alright.”

She was shaking so badly that Jamie had a hard time keeping hold of her as he carried Claire up the stairs towards the lift. Murtagh followed behind, one hand gripping solidly onto Fergus’ carrycot and the other holding Claire’s bag. They boarded the lift in silence, listening only to the shallow gasps of Claire’s breath as she panted through her panic. Jamie could feel her tense and relax as they stepped out of the lift on his floor and headed the short distance to his front door.

“Are ye just going to let her sleep?” Murtagh asked quietly.

“Aye, thanks Murtagh. I’ll stay wi’ her for now but I dinna think there’s much I can do other than keep talking to her.”

“She can hear ye so I’d say that’s a good bet. Once she’s fought through the worst of it she’ll be able to use yer voice to bring herself around I reckon.” Murtagh said wisely, placing Claire’s bag down and patting his nephew on the back. “I ken it doesna feel it when yer living through it, but she’s calmer now than she was in that hospital room. That’s something right, even if only a small victory?”

“Och, aye it is,” Jamie said quietly, smoothing the hair from Claire’s forehead as he wrapped the blankets around her trembling shoulders. “From what Ned said before we left this was pretty much a given considering her ordeal. It was more a matter of when she’d have her first panic attack rather than if.”

“J-Jamie?” Claire whispered, her throat rough and dry.

“I’m here Claire,” he replied, nodding to Murtagh as he quietly left Jamie and Claire be, closing the front door softly behind him. “Yer wi’ me, aye? Home.”

Squinting her eyes open, Claire shuffled as close to the edge of the bed as she could get and slipped her hand out from beneath the sheet. Jamie took it, his warm palm wrapping delicately around Claire’s.

“Thank you,” she said sleepily, her eyes opening and closing drowsily as she tried to keep herself awake, “for everything.”

#;Mod MBD #As Yet Unread #jamie x claire

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

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Flood my Mornings: Ian

Notes from Mod Bonnie

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment: Climbing (Bree is a wee terror. And, oh yeah, Claire goes into labor)

July 21, 1951

He was driving too fast, still, and he didn’t care.

The entire body of the Car had screamed as the tip of the bumper scraped a post box a mile back. Just a scratch—not to say repairing the damage wouldn’t be expensive—but no harm done to the box itself, so he had kept going.

On a day with clear roads, it would have been nearly three quarters of an hour’s drive from Fernace to the new hospital where Claire had planned to deliver; but the route on this particular Saturday was as plagued as Odysseus’, it seemed. Knowing precisely how precious time and haste were, this day, all of Boston was foiling and delaying him at every turn out of apparent spite.

“She says to tell you she’s fine,” Marian had said as they very quickly made for the parking lot. “She said her water broke unexpectedly, and that she was getting into the ambulance right that moment, and she’ll meet you at the hospital. And then she said to come as soon as you could but to, um….” and Marian had laughed nervously, attempting the unfamiliar words, “din-na-fash?”

But he did fash, immediately, fully, and at length. It was the Ambulance that had frightened him the most. Surely she would have called Mrs Byrd or even a Taxi if the need were less urgent?

The thoughts whirled around in his head, diving and pecking like carrion birds as he wove through the streets.

A week and a half early….Was that premature enough to be concerning? Surely not terribly so. No, certainly it was nothing to worry over.

….Lord but didn’t bairns usually lay quiet for days leading up to the waters coming? Ian had been wriggling and moving about like mad all the night.

Would he—

Would that somehow have made—?

…..Claire WOULDN’T have called the Ambulance, not unless there were something wrong; not unless she were in pain or the babe were in distress….

Jesus.

“I’m coming, mo nighean donn,” he muttered aloud, as though gritting his teeth harder would make it so.

A Traffic light changed to red and he slammed his foot down on the brake pedal just in time, getting a sounding horn from the vehicle behind him. “DEVIL OF THE SEVEN FUCKING MIDDENS TAKE YE, ” he bellowed back in Gaelic.

He slammed his palm on the steering wheel for the futility of it. God, if he could only hear her voice, only let her know he was on his way. “Why the hell can they not put Phones in Automobiles?!” he demanded of this bloody great world and century that could find a way to let men FLY and yet not manage the most obvious of useful innovations.

But by the time the light turned green once more, he wasn’t angry. He was only making vows like never before in his life.

If she was hurting

If he missed the birth

If something were to happen to either of them

Both of them

Jamie sped faster. Let the law try and give him one of their blasted Tickets. He would not let Claire be alone, this time.

With a shock, Jamie realized that the woman behind the so-called Welcome Desk was the same that had refused him entry a year ago. He remembered that bell-shaped gleam of jet-black hair. He’d been dirty and near-starving, and she’d had him escorted forcibly out on sight before he could get any word on whether or not Claire worked there. Thank goodness there wasn’t time to waste on renewing old acquaintance.

“I’m looking—” he panted, all but slamming into the high wall of the station, “Wife—Giving—birth—Fraser? Claire Fr—Christ—Fraser?”

“Awww, how wonderful!” the woman beamed up at him in genuine, startling warmth. “The fathers’ lounge is on the fourth floor, sir. Elevators are just that way!”

“But where do I find my wife?”

The woman gave a knowing smile that she likely meant to be reassuring. “Just go up the fourth floor, Mr. Father-to-be, and the nurses will get you to the right place, okay? Congratulations in advance!!”

As he skidded in the direction the fickle ninny pointed, Jamie saw a crush of people already waiting to board the Elevator. Casting about wildly, he ran instead for the door to the stairs and bolted up them three at a time, spilling out into the fourth-floor corridor and nearly colliding with passersby as he swayed, trying to get his bearings. He practically lunged toward the nurses’ station when he finally caught sight of it. “My wife—(Pardon, Good day to ye, Mistr—er, Ma’am)—Claire Fraser? They said ye could take me to—?”

“Follow me,” the nurse behind the desk said shortly, grabbing a stack of papers and leading him down the corridor. She was very handsome-looking, of about Claire’s age, but where Claire exemplified kind, professional efficiency when on duty, this woman exuded nothing but irritation. On another day, he might have pitied her, wondered what it was troubling her or even asked in hopes of being of some assistance, but as it was, all he could think of was BY GOD and all the saints, this woman could hardly walk any slower if she TRIED.

“Here,” she said tersely at last, opening a door and ushering him inside. He blinked, for it looked astonishingly like his own sitting room at home, save for it was filled with half a dozen men in suits, all smoking or reading newspapers or both. Lounge.

“I do beg your pardon, Ma’am,” he said, with an attempt at cordiality, “In my haste, I wasna at all clear, my fault entirely. I need only to be directed to the room where my wife is delivering. Claire Fraser? She was rushed here in an Amb—”

“Fathers aren’t allowed in the delivery suites, sir,” the woman said with an immediate frosty condescension that make him bristle. “I might be able to get you an update on how she is,” she said, clearly implying that it would be the last of her many important tasks, “but you’ll have to stay here.”

“For how long?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

All the men in the room were staring scornfully at him. The woman gave him an equally-withering glare. “Until your wife is finished delivering.”

His fists were clenched. “My name is James Fraser,” he said carefully, quietly, giving her exactly one more chance to help him, “and you’ll tell me at once where I may find my wife.”

The woman recoiled as though he’d struck her. “Did you not hear me? Fathers are not allowed in the delivery suites. It is unsanitary and unseemly and—SIR!! You come right back—MR—Forr—?—FRASER! You stop right this moment! Security? SECURITY!”

He scanned the signs and arrows wildly. He bore left and ran as fast as he could toward Labor and Delivery until a man of nearly his own height caught him round the middle and smashed him against the wall. He swore profusely in Gaelic, getting only an elbow in the ribs for his trouble. Jamie could have taken the man down in a moment, but hurting someone on hospital premises would certainly not help him get to Claire’s side, let alone remain there for the course of the birth.

“I must see my wife,” he implored the small crowd of nurses and patients who had gathered, the sour, beautiful nurse looking smugly triumphant at the head.“Ye dinna understand, she CANNA be alone. I must be with her—I MU—”

“And as I explained to you, SIR,” the woman said, “it is simply NOT ALLOWED. Hospital policy dictates—”

“MY WIFE—” he snarled, his temper mere inches away from unleashing completely, “—is not a matter of policy, nor is my child, so you’ll take me to them peaceably, or GOD HELP ME, I shall—”

“Mr. Fraser!”

Jamie whipped his head around and—God and Mary and all the saints be praised—saw an archangel in form of Dr. Vernon Reynolds striding down the hall for him.

“Officer?” the good doctor said politely enough as he drew up level, casting around a glance that sent the onlookers scurrying. “Why are you restraining this man?”

“This—this—IRISHMAN refuses to stay in the father’s lounge, doctor!” It was the wretched nurse who answered. “He just charged down here, shouting in tongues, insisting —”

“I left explicit instructions that a special exception was to be made for the Frasers,” Dr. Reynolds said crisply, managing to convey absolute authority only by looking politely bemused. “Did you not see the note at the nurses’ station?”

The nurse gave a shocked gurgle of displeasure. Dr. Reynolds smiled cooly at her. “Why don’t you go check in on the gentlemen in the lounge, Nurse Kline, and see Officer Gable back to his station while you’re at it. I’ll personally escort Mr. Fraser to his wife’s room.” And before either could object, Dr. Reynolds had put a light hand on Jamie’s arm and turned them smartly down the hall.

Jamie released a sigh of deep relief, thick and painful from the sudden lump in his throat. “Doctor, Jesus, I canna thank ye en—”

“Your Claire is doing just fine,” the always-intuitive doctor was already saying, setting them a brisk pace. “The baby has decided to start the process a tad early, but not so early as to be worrying or dangerous, if all else goes well. Heartbeat is strong, the head is in the right direction. Mrs. Fraser is about 60% dilated and coming along steadily. Experiencing a great deal of discomfort, but nothing I wouldn’t expect to see in a woman delivering full-term, vaginally, and un-sedated for the first time. They’re both alright,” the man summarized for good measure, stopping at a juncture and clapping Jamie on the shoulder. “Suite 4B-44, down that corridor and then take a right. I’ll be checking in on you both shortly.”

“I thank ye,” Jamie gasped as he shook the doctor’s hand with both his own and then and began sprinting. “Truly, God bless ye!”

True, it had taken no little fortitude and restraint to reconcile all those months ago with the notion that Claire was to have a MALE doctor seeing to her care—seeing to her most intimate care. But the man had slowly gained Jamie’s trust after that first tense visit (he had delivered Brianna, after all); and in that particular moment, (even despite the barbarous instinct that had momentarily bade him tear the man’s throat out for that casual ‘vaginally’), Jamie could have KISSED Dr. Vernon Reynolds with only good will in his heart. In fact, wheeling around the bend, Jamie found himself making a mental note to send the man some monstrously extravagant gift, after all was said and done.

4B-40…

4B-41…

4B-42…

4B-43…

He burst through the door of 4B-44 and—

“—JAMIE!”

He flung himself toward the bed and got his arms around her. “I’m here,” he gasped out, kissing her cheeks and mouth, “Lord, I’m so sorry—I’m here, Sassenach.”

She was fitted out in a cloth smock, her face red and slick with sweat and absolutely broken with emotion as she touched his face and grasped at him, gulping air. “I thought—you would—miss—”

“Not for the world or anything in it,” he promised, leaning his head against hers and running his thumb over her clammy cheek. “Though with the traffic and all, I feared—Och, now, breathe slow wi’ me, Sassenach, aye?” She was having trouble catching her breath amid the agitation, and that scared him enough to force his own faculties into submission. “….Aye, just like that.….Good, lass….You’re alright, mo chridhe,” he murmured, “…We’re alright….”

Eyes closed, held close, they breathed, long and slow, and they settled into peace, or as much as could be managed with the machines chirruping the nurses coming and going.

“Bree?” Claire suddenly demanded, looking wildly around.

“Wi’ the Harpers, for now, and Marian promised to call Penelope and arrange things. But Sassenach, will ye tell me, how did it happen? When Marian said ye’d called for an Ambulance—”

“My water broke while I was asleep,” she said shakily, squeezing his hand. “I woke up right as the surge came and with it these—” she shuddered, “—HUGE full-force contractions and it scared me so badly, and… When I got myself up there was blood on the mattress.”

She closed her eyes and clutched him fiercely, and he knew exactly why that sight should have led her to call the Ambulance at once. “Ye did exactly right.” He kissed her temple before drawing back and looking her in the eye. “But the only thing that matters is ye got here, and Dr. Reynolds says the babe is just fine. All is well.”

“Yes,” she repeated as though to convince herself, “all isJEEESUS-H-ROOS—AGHHH—”

“CLAIRE?!?!”

Her entire body had thrown itself into a seizing, contorting spasm in the space of a single moment. She was crying out in great pain, her grip on his hand now tripled and getting stronger. He gripped back, completely undone with panic and not having a single clue what to do. “What can—Call for the doctor!” he demanded of the nurse at the other side of the room.

“No need, she’s alright,” the woman said reassuringly. “Just a little contraction, is all, nothing to worry about.”

“Why don’t YOU come bloody try it, if it’s so LITTLE?” Claire suddenly snarled, glaring at the woman through the pain like a beast straight from the gates of hell.

“Oh, I’ve had three of my own and that’s plenty,” the woman said cheerily with a grin at Jamie, completely nonplussed. “But I’ll go give Dr. Reynolds an update all the same and be back in just a few minutes.”

Claire growled something shocking after her as the door closed, and despite the fear and the absolute shock of witnessing what just one ‘little’ Contraction was doing to her, Jamie burst out laughing and even Claire grinned, though all mirth vanished almost at once as Claire’s back arched and she hissed, groaning and squeezing her face tight in pain.

Then, just as suddenly as the attack had come, it abated, and Claire fell back fully on the pillow, gasping and spent.

“Dear Holy God,” Jamie swore, laying gentle fingertips on her brow and her shoulder. “That was—God, Claire…”

“I’m alright.” HE wasn’t. He was absolutely terrified, but she squeezed his hand with a weak smile. “Remind me again why it is I wanted to do this without sedation?”

“Damned if I ken,” he said sincerely.

In the serene green-painted walls of Dr. Reynolds’ office months before, it had seemed patently and abundantly obvious that of course, Claire should not be placed into a death-like state, now or ever, but certainly not with the bairn inside her. Now, anything that could spare her that kind of pain seemed absolutely and imminently necessary.

“Too late to do anything about it now,” she said, anticipating his next line of thought. She winced sharply and Jamie jumped. “No, it’s not another one. Ian’s just kicking a lass while she’s down,” she groaned with a weak smile, rubbing her belly. “Get on those ‘how to be a gentleman’ lessons pronto when he gets here, alright?”

Ian. Lord, in all the worry over Claire in her pain, it had been easy to overlook the reason for it all, the worry for him, too. Lord, that he might be safe.

But he managed to rasp out a bark of a laugh, keeping up the buoyant hope and gripping her hand overtop the same spot. “Straightaway.”

He had once told Claire that he was glad that they mightn’t ever have children, for he wouldn’t wish her to be subjected to such pain and danger.

I can bear pain myself, he had said, holding her close at Lallybroch, his heart secretly breaking despite his noble (and no less honest) declaration, but I couldna bear yours. That would take more strength than I have.

It did take more strength than he had. Far, far more.

He knew it was a hard birth even without having personally witnessed one before. The Contractions were absolutely nothing compared with what ripped through Claire once Dr. Reynolds had her pushing in good earnest. To see her thus subjected, to see her in such excruciating pain…

Jamie coaxed and soothed and begged her to breathe, but God, there wasn’t a damned thing he could truly do other than bear witness to her agony. A fitting atonement, in the end, he reflected.

Jesus, how he scorned those men sitting drinking coffees in the lounge. How could any man sit within a stone’s throw of his woman going through such anguish and CHOOSE to lay about and smoke rather than be by her side? ….True, even in his own time, it was rare for a man to be present during the birth, but even so! It made his blood boil for the cowardice of men to always be hiding from their wives’ pain.

No, as much as it tore his heart out to hear her screams and to feel each wave of pain that coursed through her, it was his duty and honor and privilege to hold her, speak what words he could to her, pray what prayers he could utter, all at her side.

Hours passed, HOURS of this torture in Claire’s body, and he truly didn’t know how she could withstand it. She was strong and fit, and made of tougher fiber than any other woman he’d encountered, but Jamie didn’t know if even he could have borne the like for so long a period of time. The babe seemed to be tearing her apart from the inside, and his fear for the both of them was so acute as to drive him mad as the evening darkened.

Oh, but at last, Claire’s cries and the doctor’s directions rose up together in a massive crescendo of sound, her body seeming to ripple as though ready to shatter.

“One more push, Claire,” the doctor shouted with the kind of command that won battles, “NOW— hard as you can—”

That final scream was the sound of hell itself.

Then, the world shifted, and those next seconds were perfect and eternal.

A whoosh of breath and liquid and a great, grating gasp and Claire’s entire body seemed to collapse.

Sounds of excited triumph; the doctor moving quickly to the table at the end of the room.

A little boy! someone proclaimed.

Claire was prostrate with the sudden relief of deliverance, her head lolling on his shoulder, back heaving against his chest. She was beaming, though, faint laughter pouring from her throat even as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “Jamie….”

“Oh lass,” Jamie cupped her cheek and held her close against him, his incredible, strong wife. “He’s arrived,” he gasped, “Ian’s—”

An uncanny dread struck them both and they straightened to look where the doctor and nurses were huddled. Their murmurs crossed the room and struck like bullets though all their backs were turned, hunched over the babe.

“What’s amiss?” Jamie demanded at once, leaping to his feet. “Is he alright?”

“—cyanosis soon—”

“—Call NICU—”

“He can’t breathe?” Claire’s voice was a shrill scream and Jamie’s chest seemed to cave in. “He can’t—?”

“CALL NICU, NOW!” Reynolds bellowed again, oblivious to anything else, and his team went running.

“No—no, no, no—” Claire was utterly dissolving. He fell toward her, words completely failing him. He covered and wrapped her in his arms, that he might shield her. “Jamie,” she pleaded in a cracked, sobbing whisper, her fingers shaking uncontrollably on his neck. “Jamie….Please….”

I canna, he tried to say, but he couldn’t even do that. He couldn’t save his child. He could do nothing except hold her as she began to wail, a sound the like of which he’d never heard before, that cut him open to the marrow.

He would bear this for the both of them. He would wrap his body around this pain and HE would carry it.

Please, God,

Do anything you wish to me. Send me to the war, take my sight, take ME, NOW, but don’t take him.

Spare our son.

And then Ian Henry Fergus Beauchamp Fraser let forth a cry to wake the spirits.

The group was still huddled together, but their voices were soft and easy with laughter and calm over the heart-rending cries of the babe.

“He’s alright,” said one of the nurses, running over with eyes intensely earnest and putting a hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Screaming is good—VERY good! He’s okay.”

Claire closed her eyes and covered her face, her entire body shaking with silent sobs of devastating relief. Jamie kept his hands on her, but his eyes fixed on the group seeing to the child, his pounding heart still refusing to believe.

Reynolds suddenly boomed a great, muffled laugh. “I just remembered your big sister’s birth day, little guy! Scaring the living daylights out of people from day one must run in the family!” A murmur of low words to a nurse, then he spoke again in a soothing baritone, carefully pitched loud enough for all to hear, “Yeah, you’re alright, buddy….Got your breath now, and everything else is looking good. Just give us another minute to get you cleaned up and we’ll get you right over to Mom and Dad, okay?”

Jamie all but collapsed into Claire, then, surrendering to weep with her, just for a time. Neither of them spoke. The relief and the joy was too great, but they each knew what their Heart was thinking, was feeling. He kissed her lips. She touched his cheek.

“Mr. Fraser?” Reynolds said suddenly, his voice no longer muffled.

Jamie jumped to his feet, staggering a bit and running a sleeve across his eyes. The good doctor still had his mask on, but his eyes were smiling as he held out the blanket-wrapped bundle. “Would you like the honor of introducing this little guy to your wife?”

Honor. The good doctor had not the faintest idea of just how great was the honor, the joy, the exquisite gift of reaching down and lifting his newborn child into his arms.

“Ian…” Jamie wept, gasping in great heaving breaths as he pressed his cheek to his son’s forehead, as he kissed him. “Tha gaol agam ort, Iain, a bhailaich.”

The tiny lad was red all over and screaming inconsolably, his arms windmilling about, untucking the blanket in which he’d been wrapped. Jamie felt the blades cleave his heart to see those bitty wee fists shaking in terrified abandon, to hear his son's cries, so utterly desolate and lost, with no hope–

“Dinna fash, a chuisle,” Jamie begged as he turned toward the bed, staring rapt into the boy’s face, sheltering him from the harsh Electric lights with his hand. “It’s alright, aye? Everything’s alright, now. You’re going to meet your Mam, and—” He could barely speak, but he managed to smile, his heart broken with loving them. “—and she’s going to make your life—absolutely wonderful, I promise.”

And if picking Ian up in his own arms had been a gift beyond imagining, laying him down into Claire’s and hearing that exquisite sound of love escape her as she cradled him was—everything.

“Hello, little darling….” Claire choked out in barely a whisper. She curled her body over her son. “I’m so glad to meet you.” She brought him up close to her face and kissed him again and again as he cried, letting her own tears bless him. “I love you, Ian,” she breathed, “….Oh, sweetheart…. Mummy loves you so much….”

Without taking her eyes away, she pulled down the neck of her gown to give the child her breast, guiding him with an expert hand. The babe’s cries silenced at once as he latched on, and her sharp gasp of surprise and delight echoed in the sudden silence. Her soft, tearful laughter as she beamed down at him, nourishing him, speaking love over him —

“Jamie? Jamie?” Claire was saying, touching his arm urgently. “Are you alright, love?”

He had gone to his knees beside the bed, weeping so brokenly it was physical pain to keep any sound from escaping and disturbing this peace.

Something had healed within him, to see a child at her breast, something so deeply broken and scarred in his heart that he’d thought it a permanent part of him. The gnarled edges had blazed with light, leaving scarcely a trace behind.

Without a word, she took his hand and pulled him up beside her onto the bed. He tried to say her name—to ask? to tell? He didn’t know for sure, but it didn’t matter. Claire’s kiss on his mouth. Claire’s soft syllables, crooning to him, and his cheek cradled against her shoulder. Her hand reaching for his, the one she’d healed, bringing it to cup Ian’s head against her breast. Those things were sure. Those things he would remember until the day he died.

#in which Jamie invents the car phone #obviously that is the main highlight of this chapter. i mean did you even read it?#holy god this is like 4.2k words #but i didn't want to leave you hanging this time #ya welcome #see? I can be considerate and throw you a bone on occasion #I can't freaking believe I gave this kid an ODD NUMBER birthday #shame shame shame @ myself #Flood my mornings #;mod Bonnie

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gotham-ruaidh · 7 years

Text

Shifted - Part 5, Chapter 2

Previous installments…

Part 5 - The Siblings

Lallybroch, Summer 1755

Chapter 2

“Shh, shh. Mama’s here.”

William’s small body looked lost in the center of his parents’ bed. He restlessly turned back and forth, trying to get comfortable.

Claire had stripped William down to a clout and placed a cool rag on his forehead. His body was absolutely burning up with fever, and his mind was so confused with the alternating feelings of the heat of the fever and the ice cold chills. She gently ran a palm over his wee belly and up over his shoulders, up and back again, soothing.

“Settle down, William. Stop moving.”

She felt him draw several deep breaths. “Mama – ”

Claire curled up next to him in the middle of the large bed. Blindly he shifted closer, face rooting against her chest as he had when he was a baby. She removed the cold cloth, gathered him in her arms, and pressed his warm face into her neck. “Shh. Just sleep now. Shh.”

Footsteps on the landing - Claire glanced up to find Jamie frozen in the doorframe, eyes wide with worry. She tilted her head to indicate he should come in. Heedless of the dirt and hay sticking to his trews, he climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around William and Claire, pressing a kiss to his son’s head.

“Da?”

William’s voice was muffled against Claire’s neck – but they both felt him relax.

“Aye, I’m here now, a bhailach. Rest now. Nothing will harm ye.”

William sighed and settled closer against Claire.

Claire met Jamie’s worried gaze. “It’s a fever,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “He was fine this morning, Claire – he wasna so warm when I helped him dress.”

“Brianna said he’d not been feeling himself – it probably got worse as the day went on.” She rubbed a soothing hand up and down William’s tender back. “Our little lad needs some good rest, is all. He’s just confused – he’s never really been sick before.”

Jamie nodded, eyes far away.

“How did you know we were up here?”

He traced one thumb along the back of her neck. “Brianna came tearing into my study. She’s all upset – thinks it’s her fault that her brother’s ill.”

Claire smiled. Since the first time a newborn William had been placed in his sister’s arms, Brianna had seen it as her mission to safeguard and protect him, to guide him through life.

“She’s a good sister.”

Jamie returned her smile. “Aye. Minds me of my own sister and me, when we were bairns.”

Claire shifted her gaze down to William, who had settled into sleep. Gently she eased him back onto the pillows and covered him with her shawl.

“Do you think I baby him too much, Jamie?”

Jamie sat against the headboard, careful to not jostle the mattress.

“No. He’s still a baby in so many ways. The youngest in the house – for now, anyway. And he’s got his mam and sister and aunt and cousins and Mrs. Crook to mother him.” Gently he trailed a finger along William’s brow – Claire remembered how he had done that so often when William was a baby, tracing and memorizing his features.

“He’ll not be soft, if that’s what ye’re asking.”

“I know that. Only – I’m thirty-eight, Jamie. Even if we wanted to, I don’t know if I could have more children. The chances of conceiving get lower and lower as a woman approaches forty.” She sighed and absently traced the stitching on the quilt, eyes downcast. “I so wanted to give you a houseful of children. Like Jenny has given Ian – sons and daughters and more sons and more daughters. Not that I’m not grateful – I feel so blessed with Brianna and William. But I do feel that bit sad that I’ll likely never carry a child again – never nurse one again – never give birth again.”

Jamie reached over William’s small body and rested his hand atop hers on the quilt. “So ye want to keep him small for as long as ye can, then?”

She nodded, throat full. “He’ll always be my baby, Jamie. I just don’t want my feelings to – to make him think less of himself, or to think he can’t do things for himself.”

He tilted up her chin and met her gaze. “He won’t. Ye ken that Brianna and I will make sure of it.”

Claire bit her lip, eyes swimming with tears. “I worry about him so much. It’s so difficult and dangerous to be a man in this time. So many things can happen – raids, wars, sickness. I know you and Murtagh will teach him to fight. He’s left-handed, like you – have you realized that?”

“Aye, I have. Puir lad. Looks like he inherited something from me after all.”

Claire sniffed, but Jamie’s joke had worked – she smiled softly. “What are you talking about? He’s inherited a lot from you.”

Jamie snorted. “He’s your spitting image, Sassenach – your eyes, your limbs, your hair. When I take him and Brianna out to the tenants, they sometimes think he’s Jenny’s.”

“Well there’s no doubt who Brianna belongs to, at least.”

He smiled. “God bless the puir lass. I think the angels saw fit to send her a wee brother to protect – otherwise God knows the trouble she’d get in to.”

William shifted in his sleep, and gently Jamie drew Claire’s shawl tighter around his son’s tiny shoulders.

“When he’s big enough, I want to show him how to put on a kilt and wear a plaid.” Claire raised one eyebrow, and Jamie shrugged. “Dinna worry - we’ll do it in this room, ken – and lock the door, and I know he’ll understand why we canna tell anyone. But I’ll do it, and do it as often as it takes for him to do it on his own. I mind my own Da teaching me, when I was Brianna’s age.”

He paused, thoughtful. “My brother William and my son William will never be the lairds they should have been. I willna ever regret deeding the estate to Young Jamie – it’s saved Lallybroch. But Claire – ” He swallowed. “My son willna be the laird of this estate. He willna ever have an opportunity to wear his Fraser plaid. He willna be able to foster with his father’s kin, or attend a Gathering.”

Claire turned her hand on the quilt to be palm to palm with Jamie’s. She twined their fingers together.

“I try not to think about it, it pains me so much. Only – I think I understand a bit more about how you must feel here, in this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“You left your own time – your husband, your country, your place. Now I feel that in my time, my country, my culture, my place is gone.” He gently ran his thumb over her ring. “I dinna want William to feel he has no place.”

“Don’t say that. He’ll always have a place. He’ll always know what that place is, Jamie. Brianna and I will make sure of it, even if you won’t.”

He smiled wistfully, twining their fingers together on the quilt.

“What does Murtagh think?”

Jamie snorted. “He says I must get my heid out of my arse and appreciate the gifts God has given me – you and the bairns. And that if I focus on the three of you, I’ll be too busy worrying about how to be a good husband and father that I’ll forget all the other nonsense.”

Claire smiled. “He really is a good godfather.”

Jamie shifted closer to Claire on the bed. “He loves us all – you too – though he’d rather die than admit it. We’re the only family he’s got left, ken?”

The door opened slightly to reveal Brianna’s worried face. “Da? Mama?”

Jamie turned to smile at his daughter. “Aye, he’s all right, a nighean. Come here.”

Quietly Brianna padded over to the bed and eased onto the mattress beside her father. William dozed softly, tiny chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry I didn’t take better care of him.”

Jamie picked up his daughter and rested her in his lap. “It’s no yer fault. There’s nothing you should have done differently, Brianna. Wee bairns get sick all the time. Ask yer mother.”

Claire smiled, heart swelling at the love she felt. “There was a time or two when you were small that you got sick, too.”

Brianna’s brows rose skeptically. “Really?”

Jamie pressed a kiss to the crown of his daughter’s head. “Aye, ye did. Scared me near to death, too.”

“But why, Da? Mama says it happens all the time.” She lay her head against his chest, limbs relaxing.

“It doesna matter that it happens all the time to wee bairns. It does matter when it’s one of my bairns that get sick.”

He craned his neck to meet Brianna’s eyes, and cupped her cheek gently.

“Ye know how much yer Mam and I love you and William, aye?”

Brianna nodded. “Aye, Da.”

“Well then. Just think how much ye felt today about William being ill, and multiply that by as large a number as ye can.” He paused, watching Brianna’s eyes lose focus as she followed along. “So think on that – and that’s only a wee bit of how I feel when one of you get sick.”

Brianna’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot.”

Jamie bumped her nose with the tip of his finger. “Aye, ‘tis. Do ye understand now?”

“Yes. I understand.” She turned her gaze to William. “Will he be better tomorrow, Mama?”

“I don’t know, darling. He just needs to rest now. And even if he’s better tomorrow, he’ll stay in bed. I don’t want him wearing himself out trying to keep up with you.”

Brianna gently eased off Jamie’s lap and crawled across the bed to William. She gently kissed his forehead and whispered something softly into his ear.

Claire turned to Jamie and reached for his hand. He took it, twined their fingers together. Their hearts were full.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #shifted #jamie and claire

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