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drwgonslayer · 3 years

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JAMIE X CLAIRE, fanfic.

What if Claire Beauchamp was a ballet dancer and Jamie, a doctor?

The Ardent Dance Of Swans

chapter 1: Hearts Of Swan

Prospero: “We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”

– William Skakespeare.

ATO I – Pas De Deux

Jamie Fraser could not say he was a fan of Classical Ballet. In fact, he was unable to understand even the smallest thing about it or the intricate and elegant movements of the dancers. But he was a fan of classical music since he was a child in Lallybroch, running away from his sister’s shoes and listening Ellen Fraser, his mother, playing the piano with undrilled passion and full heart. It was the sweetest parts of his childhood, seeing his mon safe and healthy before the gloomy claws of cancer came and took her away, far from him and his two brothers. Then, of course after that, the music stopped. Ellen was the shape of music, melody and happiness, the heart of the house, without her there was no reason to keep playing and living their best life. Until his middle sister kick their ass out of self-pity.

“Mama would be ashamed of us.” – Jenny said in her firm voice but betrayed by her shaking hands. “We have to keep walking. Head up and keep walking. That’s what she always said. Head up and keep walking, William and Jamie.” – So did they.

Head up and keep walking, he made up his way on the med-school. He built a solid career as a Trauma Surgeon, after came back from the army, and a home in Edinburgh. William was an administrator, married and almost a father and Jenny was an architect, with three little children and married with Ian, a good man, friend and lawyer.

He, working as a doctor in full time, didn’t spend time looking for real bonds or marriages like his brothers did. As a man not adept to the casual sex, he only had short relationships in almost ten years. Leogharie, who scared the hell out of him at the end – she was a stalker and very jealous, toxic, if he could say – and Genebra, a doctor too, but immature and selfish.

None of them was the one that his mother always talked about, so he got over easily. But, anyway, he was not looking for it —the one—, like his brothers did, because Jamie really knew it would be difficult find one love like his parents had and after all he went through, difficult was not so attractive anymore.

So, now, he was on a theatre alone after he refused the company of a girl that Angus and Rupert, two orthopedists, invited for him, watching the First Act of Swans Lakes.

Jamie, of course, knew that the libretto is based on a story by the German author, Johann Karl August Musäus, The Stolen Veil, that tells about Odette, a beautiful girl, that was cursed to spend her entire day as a swan, returning to the shape of a woman only at night. The curse said that the spell can only be broken if one who has never loved before swears to love Odette forever. So, one day, at night, Prince Siegfried was hunting at a lakeside when he found her and fell in love.

But nothing would be so easily, even in the fairytales... On the other side from story, there was Von Rothbarth, an evil sorcerer, that disguised his daughter, Odile, to look exactly like Odette and deceive the Prince.

He watched the acts without really paying attention, just absorbing the Tchaikovsky’s melodies played by the intrumentalists when the act changed again and a new character entered in scene.

She was... Breathtaking. And he was speechless.

All dressed in black, stormy eyes and graceful intricate movements, she was the shape of hurricane and captvated Jamie completly... it was as if he was watching a whirlwind though the windows of his house, anxiously waiting for the moment when he would be dragged by her overpowering wind.

But in the meantime, he watched she dances...

Her movements were passionate and full of emotion... it was like seeing fairys dancing, slow and softly as the melody went down a few tones and chaotic as the melody rose. She never stopped, she never hesitated. She kept going and going, in ups and downs: passionate and enchanting.

He felt her angry, her love, her ambition every time she stretched her body, raised her thin but strong arms above her head or just around her; every time she raised her long legs on a elaborate movement and every time she changed her facial expression.

She was brilliant and ethereal, like something between the orphic and the magical.

She stole the scene, and being mushy, he could say that she stole a part of his heart too, (without any protest).

The Black Swan… She had already overwhelmed him.

ATO II — Dance Of Swans

Even when he left the stage, he kept in a chaotic silence inside himself. He tried, but he could not recognize the feelings he felt when he saw her leaving. He supposed to be watching the new act that was happening, but his mind was a mess.

Jamie was not a man who believed in love at first sight. He was a romantic, but not so daring. However, it was ironic that nothing could explain exactly what he felt beyond the words “love at first sight.”

He never had a experience like that in his life.

Jamie sighed, feeling the need of took a deep breath far from the audience, where her energy still hovered in the atmosphere. He left his place, calmly, and walked through the halls of the theater when he heard some loud voices.

Approaching himself from where he heard the noise, he could not help but heard the conversation of some dancers.

“I think she will not come back to the stage.” — then, the fiery hair woman sigh. — “She wants to be strong and she will not say that she’s tired, but if she keep dancing today, her feet...” — another sigh and a man near the woman took a deep breath too.

“Do you think it’s broken or just...?” — he asks.

“Not broken, yet.” — he heard the woman emphasizes the ‘yet’. — “But will be if she not leave someone take a look at it.”

“She still has two acts, what we gonna do without the ‘Black Swan’?” — Jamie’s heart sank. She was hurt and he could not just be here, listening to this and not trying help.

Using his 20 seconds of courage, he left the shadows and scared the both dancers, who looked at him with doubt eyes.

“Good-night, I-’’ — he cursed himself, what the hell was happening with him today? — “I could nae help, but I heard ye two sayin’ that someone is hurt. I’m a doctor. There is somethin’ I can help?” — he finished his introduction. The woman and the man took a moment to staring at him, looked over if he is confident, what apparently they decided he was.

“We don't have time... He will fit.” — the man said to his company. — “Our friend hurt her feet. It looks like it will swell...” — Jamie nodded, already in his doctor-mood while the dancers and him were walking through the hall to the backstage.

Jamie was the last to enter the room and when he saw her, the unknown feelings dragged him again.

She was just sitting in a chair clenching her feet, but he felt like she was tap-dancing on his heart.

“Claire, we found a doctor and he will look at your feet, so maybe you can come back and keep performing.” — the woman said. Then, Claire raised her face and looked at him.

Her stormy eyes (between blue and green as an ocean) met his eyes (just grains of sand) and Jamie prayed to the heaven.

Oh, Lord, if Ye are puttin' this rare woman in front of me... I hope she can be mine.

He approached of her and kneeled by her side without his eyes leaves hers.

“You do not need to do it, Sir.” — her english accent appeared and again, she choked his words. Furthermore, he already knew that the way she drawled the words, her hoarse and melodic voice would chase him in his dreams.

“Och, dinna fash, Sassenach.” — he tryed to wink, and saw her help a laugh. He helped frowned his head, confused. He already did something wrong? — “It’s a pleasure to help. ‘Dancers are the athletes of God’.”

“Uuh, Einsten...” — She recognises and so frowned her forehead. — “Had I thought Sassenach was an insult?”

Jamie wanted kill himself. Please, 5 minutes in her presence and he already had embarrassed himself.

“Och, lass, I dinna want tae insult you. It's just meaning ye are an English.”

She giggles.

“Yeah, somethings you can not change.” — he smiled and so, with a look, asked for her permission to touch her right feet. She smiled and with a Herculeos Effort, he helped himself to look at her with heart-stupid-eyes and started to squeezing it.

Realizing that the two dancers had left the room, Jamie felt the sweat run down his forehead and his hands freeze. Oh, please. Give me a chance, Lord.

He started his analyse of her feet, and Claire started analyzing him. His eyes his jaw, his hands squeezing calmly her bones. He was a beautiful man, probably at the 28 age, married and with one or two beautiful redhead child.

“My friends said you are a doctor.” — she starts a talk. Jamie nods.

“Aye, I’m a Trauma Surgeon.” — she sigh.

“Wow. This is amazing. They don't know, but I'm a doctor too, a neurosurgeon ... if you can call ‘I have med-school certificate’ like that...”

Jamie stops for a moment and looks ate her. Amazed. Dragged by her, again. Claire keeps winning it.

“Now, I have tae say ‘WOW’, Sassenach.” — he jokes and she smiles.

“None questions about how fool I’m for spend my time dancing when I have a doctor certificate in my safe box?” — she mocks herself.

“What ye feel when ye dance?” — he asks, instead. And she did not need time to think about it.

“I’m feel free.” — she says.

“So, there is my answer.” — he wink again and she smile, pure and enchanted.

She, despite the fact that he was a stranger, feel safe to share her stuffs with him. By the way, they probably will not meet again.

“I was tired. Tired to be a surgeon. I always loved to do my work,. it was what I always wanted to be. A doctor. A neurosurgeon. When I was in an O.R, I felt like I was on top of the the world. I felt I could do anything. But... with the love comes the responsabilities and the pressure, the oppression... I almost got depressed. So I stoped and came back to dance.” — she smiles. — “And I do not tell it to anyone, because... probably, I don't like the questions that came after.” — she slipped out with a sigh, at the the end. — “Do you can understand?”

He had stoped his analyses to listen to her, squeezing her hand in his, trying to comfort Claire a little bit. And a bubble seemed to catch they two, leaving they stuck in their own atmosphere.

“Aye, I get it. I was in the army.” — he tells. — “And when I came back, I thought I could not scrub in an O.R again. I loved surgery, bein’ a doctor, but it was like I was not in love anymore. I think it happens because we feel as a fraud. We supposed tae be healers, and we believe we are at the first moment, but then, we can not save all lives. Deaths are many than lifes saved and it destroys ye.”

Claire squeezed his hands, smiling at him. “Yes, it is exactly it. That’s why I left my job and started in a Ballet Company, travelling around the world with them.”

Jamie smiles. And, without realises, wrap his her hair around one of his ffingers stroking the black crows's curls.

“Ye are a wee brave thing, aren’t you?” — he asks, rhetorically, and the atmosphere changes completely. The friendly air turned out in a heated bubble. Just popped when Claire took her eyes off of him. Suddenly, very conscious that she did not even know his name yet.

He seemed steady as he kept talking.

“Well, Tchaikovisky did the same, ye ken. It’s incredible, aye, after all “a man who does not feed his dreams, grows old soon.” – he quotes Skakespeare, while kept analyzing her ballerina foot, squeezing in all the right places and, inevitably, pulling little noises from Claire, now. Jamie heard and almost interrupted his work, but with a Herculeous Effort, he kept doing his analysis.

“Oh, a trauma surgeon and a Skakespeare reader... You really are a MacDreamy.” — she drawled her words exactly as he found the hurt bone, letting a really loud noise came out of her mouth.

He tried, really really tried, but he could not help the feelings grownt in his veins, driving him near to edge of madness. It’s not right, in many ways. He could not rocognize himself, jamie thinks, but he never felt like that way before. He never felt this “longing alive”, this fever that he feels when he touches her. It makes him wants to build bridges between his aorta and core, just to see her spend dancing with her soft ballet shoes.

He took a deep breath, mentally. And play on doctor-mood again.

“It's not broken as ye ken, but my advice is keep it quiet for a moment, letting it rest.” — she nodded.

“But I have to go back to the stage soon...”

“Look, Claire,” — her name slipped out of his mouth, subtlety in his hoarse voice and accent, as if he had did it many time before.

He chokes her words, now. His voice saying her name was like a melodic song. Or a whisper in a silence night.

“I ken ye have to do it, but I bet for The Cross Of My Lord Jesus Christ, that this foot is hurtin’ as hell. So, ye can stay here. Resting. Or tryin’ go back and have me in that stage huntin’ ye and catchin' ye.” — he said, firmly but still softly. — Ye does not seem so heavy...” — she stared at him, hiding her surprise.

“Och, ye..” — she imitates, badly but reallly funny tentative, mooching. — “... will catch me?” — he nod, with a guttural noise from his throat and a wild look. She knew he was playing a character in that little scene she was building but she could not help the healed wave increasing in her core. “I would like to see you try it.” — she smiles, malicious, leaning foward in the chair to be closer to him.

“Och, Sassenach, dae not test me...” — he leans his head to her while she decided to touch his face, stroking his facial redhair.

“Why not?” — she asks, closer to his face. Her nose touching his. Her eyes just few cents to his.

“Ye ken what people say... play with fire and ye will get burned.” — he squeezed their noses a little bit until she leaned back, running, just to come closer again, back to the same position, giggling.

“‘One fire burns out another’s burning.’”— she smiles, sassy, as he dragged his nose across her face. — “And I never give a damn for other’s people opinion.”

“Good tae hear that.” — he says, looking at her in the eyes. So close that he could feel her breathing against his own mouth. He approached his lips of hers and she leaned back again.

“Cheeky.” — he winks.

She smiled and, holding his face between her two hands, looking at him in his blue eyes with undrilled burning fire in her pupil.

“I don’t even know your name, MacDreamy.” — he laughed.

“Och, lass...” — he does a little reverence, still on his knees. — “James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, at your service, ma’am.” — she nodded.

“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp.” — she introduces herself, properly now.

“Fits well, mo chride... Claire Elizabeth.” — he touchs his lips in his chin. — “Now, ye will have me?” — he whispers in Claire's lips.

“Yeah, I will have you.”

And then, without any word, they shocked their lips.

And the world tumbled down.

The overpowering wind he was waiting to dragged him at his windows finally came and was overwhelming.

Her lips is his, her hands in his face... but could be in his shoulders, arms, chest or neck... he could not say rightly because she was in everywhere. He felt her in all the places of his body, like she had absorbed him, entirely, just to burn Jamie with her fiery waves.

He was tightening up her neck to bring her closer to him, as if it was possible... and her hair... it already was a completely mess. But they kept kissing. Claire’s lips were meant to be his. And Jamie’s tongue was created to fit inside her mouth. They were puzzles, made for each other.

They kissed like there was no tomorrow, because maybe, really would not have it. But they took their moment and took advantage of their time together. Kissing and kissing until the air is needed.

At the end, it was a kiss of swans. Elegant, but ardent. And the premise of an unknown “forever”.

“Wow.” — she said, first. Her forehead in his, both nears to edge of the unexplored passion.

“Yes, wow.” — he can say, between his hard breaths.

“Just-” — she strokes his face. “Wow.” — Claire says again.

“Shaoil mi gum biodh mo chridhe a ’spreadhadh, mo nighean dhonn.”

She lay her head on his shoulders for a moment.

“What did you say?”

“I just though my heart was going to burst.” — he explains. She giggles, stroking her nose against his chin and cheek.

“Don’t you want to escape?” — she whispers in his ears.

“And the ballet...?” — he asks, dizzy.

“My doctor said to rest my foot very well... and I have a surrogate.” — he laughed.

“Now, I’m yeur doctor?” — Jamie provokes.

“Yeaahh.” — she drawled it. — “And I’m going put this foot on the floor now...” — she provokes, her voice going down a few tones. — “And I will start running away from here. Will you join me or-“ — she bites his ear lobe. — “-will you stay here, all alone in this sad room?”

He roared, softly.

“You are such a vixen.”

She gets up from the chair and starts to run to the exit door.

“Come find me.”

God knows he would go.

#jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #claire fraser #outlander #sam x cait #jaime x claire #jamie fraser #swan lake

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yimra · 2 years

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Okay sorry I’m confused what was with the the person on tiktok who said they stole something from a tweet? I’m lost

Someone on here who on here originally made the meme then got it stolen from another user cause they’re a “fash” and the meme within itself is a meme cause of that lol

#anon #if you missed your ask search anon tag

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flyinghome-againstthewind · 3 years

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the best by far is you: chapter 12

Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

For all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you - Cecilia and the satellite

————

Summary: An exploration of Claire & Jamie’s story if their firstborn had lived and they had the chance to be parents together of wee Faith Fraser before the Battle of Culloden.

Special thank you to Michaela for just the most beautiful moodboard! I’m obsessed with this one!

Chapter 12

The 1st of May

Three days hadn’t been much time to plan, but she had planned carefully with what time she had, and with only Mrs. Graham to help her. Once the option had been laid out before her, she knew what to do. If she couldn’t find her family in the 20th century, might it be easier to return and search from there?

Mrs. Graham drove her in the early hours of the morning, just before dawn. Claire waited, watching the dance of the druids from her same hiding spot three years ago, only this time she was prepared. Her dress had been sequestered out to Mrs. Graham’s car and Claire had changed in the near-dark when they arrived, too scared to try and sneak out of the house with it on. Claire felt a tinge of regret for how she was leaving things with Frank ‒ a letter left out for him, explaining where she’d gone and why ‒ but the need to find her family overpowered that regret.

It had been a brief goodbye and when Claire thanked the older woman for all she’d done, she still felt as though it wasn’t enough to convey her gratitude.

“I’ll look for ye,” Mrs. Graham had winked. “I dinna ken how, but I’ll try. Now, go and find yer wee lass, my dear.”

The journey through the stones was as awful as her recent memory of it and when she came to on the grass, she laid there for several minutes, waiting for the world to settle.

But it hadn’t felt real, on top of that hill, that she was back in Jamie’s time again. And the fifteen days she’d spent in 1948 had seemed to last a whole lot longer than that.

Even when she’d gathered herself up and trekked into Inverness, seeing once again the horses and muddy paths for roads and other signs that confirmed she’d made it back, the listless feeling never quelled.

She hadn’t been able to bring much with her, but she’d planned for her way home, and that included valuables intended for bartering. With that, she’d secured herself a horse and made for Lallybroch.

It was a day’s ride from Inverness. She knew the way by now and if the horse didn’t fail on her, she could make it before nightfall.

The hopeful wish rose in her chest like a soap bubble that they might all be at Lallybroch, in hiding. Or that perhaps Jamie had managed to sneak Faith back, safe and sound, and that Jenny and Ian would know where to find Jamie.

Maybe they’d taken on different names and that was why Claire hadn’t been able to find them. But the possibility that they might all be there waiting for her was almost too much for her heart to hold, a real possibility and almost within reach if she could just make it home.

The days were long this time of year, and by the time Claire crested over a hill and saw Lallybroch in sight, she knew it was late in the evening, well-past supper even though the sun still hung low at the horizon, casting the estate in a golden glow.��

She was tired and beyond hungry, having burned through her small stash of food a few hours ago, but seeing the stone farmhouse again banished any nagging physical needs from her mind for the moment.

She urged her horse forward, closing the distance as fast as she could, until she crossed under the stone archway and slid off of the horse, her feet landing on Lallybroch soil.

“Milady!”

She heard Fergus before she saw him flying towards her as fast as his feet could manage. Her throat constricted with a sudden, choked cry, and she stumbled forward to meet him.

He made it home.

Fergus collided with her, head hitting her breastbone, and she staggered on unsteady feet, clutching him to her.

They collapsed onto the ground, still holding each other, as the relief of finding the other alive overwhelmed them both to the point of tears. Fergus began to speak, muffling his words against her shoulder as he cried, and some part of her brain registered he was speaking in French, though she couldn’t in that moment understand a word of it. For the first time since she’d returned through the stones… it felt real.

Real and wonderful and wholly overwhelming. She squeezed Fergus tighter.

There was a flurry of movement beyond them that followed. A door opened somewhere and footfall followed it.

“It’s Claire!”

More footsteps, frantic voices.

Her face was buried in Fergus’s curls until she felt someone drop down beside her, and she looked up to lock eyes with Jenny.

The question formed on her tongue ‒ are they here? ‒ and instead, what escaped her lips was a single, anguished cry. Because in Jenny’s eyes, she saw the same thinly-veiled hope for answers reflected back at her.

Jamie and Faith weren’t here. They hadn’t been here at all.

Something seemed to break inside Jenny as she registered Claire’s own disappointment. “Are ye alone then, Claire?”

“Yes.” Her voice cracked on the single word. Fergus’s arms constricted around her waist.

She was vaguely aware of Ian’s presence and the children being pulled back inside by Mrs. Crook, but her focus had stayed on the way Fergus still clung to her in that moment, and she realized that all of them here had been as in the dark as she was these last few weeks.

“Come on, then.” Jenny’s hand was at her elbow, trying to pull Claire to her feet. “Fergus, you too. Come on.”

The desperate wave of panic was returning as the shock of being at Lallybroch again subsided. Claire turned back to Jenny, hoping this was all just a strange dream. “...nothing?” She asked.

Jenny looked just as lost, shaking her head. “What happened, Claire?”

It was at that moment that Claire registered the presence of another, just joining them.

Murtagh, who had been the last one to see all three of them on that day. Who had been instrumental in Jamie’s plan and fetched Faith from Lallybroch a few days before. Who had been the last person besides Claire to talk to Jamie and who knew more than anyone else here the truth of Claire’s history.

He must’ve known, whether Jamie told him or not, what the plan was for Claire and Faith that day. Because he looked rightly horrified and confused as he stared at Claire. “Where’s Faith? Is Jamie alright?”

She felt something snap inside her and went almost feral with anger. In a swift move that shocked everyone in attendance, Claire rose up and struck Murtagh across the face. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY BABY?” She screamed, only vaguely aware of someone’s arms around her waist, pulling her back, and Jenny’s sharp voice in her ear. “You stole her from the safety of this home, from her family, and ferried her away to a fucking battlefield! She’s missing because of it. Because of you!”

Murtagh only stood to his full height, shoulders squared, and didn’t retaliate. “I did only as Jamie asked,” he said evenly, but there was a look of hurt in his eyes that cut Claire down before anything else could be said.

She crumbled then, struck dizzy from her outburst, from exhaustion and hunger. “Claire!” Jenny reached for her, but it was Murtagh who was able to save her from falling. She held tight to him like a lifeline as everything swayed about her.

“Oh, lass...” He said suddenly and full of pity. Claire didn’t look up right away, too focused on trying not to faint, but she felt that everyone’s attention had slowly shifted back to Murtagh.

“What is it?” Jenny asked.

Murtagh didn’t answer Jenny directly, but waited until Claire’s gaze met his again and asked, “Ye’re wi’ child again, aren’t ye?”

The courtyard, which had only moments before been filled with shouting, was now quiet enough to hear a leaf fall.

“She looks dead on her feet, mebbe we should bring her inside and let her rest.”

It was Ian who spoke up, and the rest seemed to come to the same conclusion that while each of them was dying to press questions, emotions running hot, perhaps it was best to let the dust settle around Claire’s sudden reappearance first.

And so Rabbie was called to bring Claire’s horse into the stables while Claire was brought inside. Jenny sent one of the servants to put together a fresh plate of food.

Murtagh stayed by her side and as the others got a few steps ahead of them, Claire froze in her steps in the hallway, unable to quell the immediate regret for how she’d treated him. “Murtagh, I’m so terribly sorry. I‒”

He made a dismissive sound low in the throat. “Dinna fash about that now,” he said as he led her on to the dining hall.

Supper for Claire was a quiet affair. Though wee Jamie had greeted her enthusiastically, the girls had given her shy, blank stares, not unlike Faith had when Claire saw her again, and Jenny had asked Mrs. Crook to put the children to bed soon after.

So it was only their solemn group of five, spread out around the table, watching Claire eat while occasionally Ian tried to lighten the mood with bits of conversation that had nothing to do with anything.

Jenny seemed to thrum with a nervous energy the longer they sat, and when Claire had at last finished eating, Jenny took a deep breath and spoke up. “I’ve no’ had a day of peace since Murtagh showed up here and said he was taking Faith to Jamie. And I need to know how it came to be that it’s you showing up on our doorstep expecting Jamie and Faith to be here.”

Claire reached for Jenny’s hand and squeezed it. “I will tell you what happened.” Her gaze swung to Murtagh, the only other person in the room who knew her story. He nodded once in agreement. Yes, they should know, too. “But there’s a lot more to it than just what happened on the day of Culloden and we’ll need somewhere private for all of us to talk.”

“Me too, Milady?”

“Yes.” Claire gave him a small smile. “This concerns you, too.”

Jenny sequestered them to the study and closed the door behind them. No servants in the room or even in earshot, just Claire and four sets of eager eyes. Claire settled on the sofa, Fergus at her side, and Jenny took an armchair adjacent to them. Murtagh stood by the small hearth and after tending to the fire, Ian took a seat near Jenny.

“Murtagh knows most of what I’m about to share. Jamie and I told him when we were in Paris, before Faith was born…”

And so she launched into her story, which got a little easier to share with each retelling, though it looked different this time. They knew of her life once she’d arrived here so there was no need to relive most of those moments, they needed only to know how she came to be here and why she knew things that hadn’t yet come to pass.

They were quiet listeners and Claire tried not to read into their range of expressions while she spoke. She just needed to get it all out. On occasion, her gaze slid over to Murtagh and found his presence reassuring. She already had one person in the room who believed her, and that made it easier to push ahead.

And then she told them of Culloden and why Jamie had risked bringing Faith to Culloden Moor that day. She told them about what happened that morning on the hill, and waking up alone on the other side. She shared about the two weeks she spent in 1948 trying desperately to find them and how she made the decision to come back.

“Faith couldn’t come with me when I left here. And as we searched and nothing came of it, I couldn’t bear not knowing what became of them. I started to fear that if I stayed and had the baby… well what if he or she couldn’t travel either, like Faith? And once I had that thought, I knew I needed to act quickly. Mrs. Graham had provided the means for me to travel through the stones again, and I thought if I couldn’t find them in the future, perhaps I could find some trace of them here.”

The room fell quiet when she had finished. She studied the three faces around her, but found their expressions unreadable. At last, Jenny broke the silence by turning to Murtagh. “And ye believe all this to be true?” she asked.

Murtagh gave a solemn nod. “Jamie believed it. That was enough for me. And he wouldna have sent me to fetch Faith from here if it was only a story. That I believe.”

“I know it’s a lot to swallow,” Claire added. “It’s alright if you can’t accept it or if you need more time to sort through it.”

Ian surprised her by being the first to respond. “I’ve known Jamie all my life, and I know you, Claire. It’s hard to fathom being from another time, but if you say it’s true, I believe you.”

She felt the vice grip of fear around her heart loosen just a bit at her brother-in-law’s words. These folks gathered in this room with her weren’t just Jamie’s family, but her own. Her gaze flitted to Jenny and she held her breath, waiting.

“Well, I ken fine well ye wouldna choose to be separated from Faith,” Jenny said plainly. “O’ course I believe ye, but why didna ye just tell us before?”

She let out a surprised chuckle, not really finding the situation funny so much as she needed the release of her pent-up nervous energy. “We only told Murtagh because he was about to actively partake in an effort to sabotage a war that hadn’t started yet. After I was tried for witchcraft, Jamie was protective about who we told, not as a matter of trust for who we told, but more so that he only wanted to tell if it was absolutely necessary to do so.”

A lull settled over them again, each absorbing what they’d heard and what it meant.

“I canna understand‒ Of all the pig-heided things my brother has done, this may be the worst,” Jenny said at length.

“Jenny,” Ian said gently.

“No. I mean it. What on God’s green earth possessed him to drag his own wee bairn to a battlefield and‒ and to try and send her and Claire away? As if that was the only choice he had?”

“He thought he was doomed to die, no matter what happened that day, with the British hunting him,” Claire explained softly, though the more they discussed Jamie’s plan, the more she hated it. But regardless of her thoughts on the matter, there was no denying the strength of Jamie’s love for others, or the lengths he would go to protect his family.

“Aye, he meant to fight in the battle. Meant to die. Told me so himself when last we spoke,” Murtagh chimed in. “So when we had no word on whether he’d survived or been captured, I assumed he had succeeded in seeing ye and the lass to safety and then in fighting… ‘til it was done. But seeing you here, Claire… does make me wonder what happened to them and why we havena seen them.”

“What exactly did he tell you?” Claire asked suddenly. “The last time you spoke, before we left for the stones, I saw you two talking.”

“Aye,” Murtagh said softly. “He instructed me to gather up the men from Lallybroch and lead them home, away from the battlefield. He said it wouldna be hard to escape in the chaos o’ the morning. And he was right about that, all the men did make it home safely…”

Murtagh walked with Jamie out into the bitter cold of that spring morning, watching Fergus’s back as he slipped away without notice.

“Gather the Frasers of Lallybroch together and get them out of here. There’ll be pell-mell on the moor wi’ troops and horses moving to and fro. Nobody will try and stop you wi’ the British in sight and the battle about to begin. Tell them the order comes from me, and they’ll follow without question. Lead them off the moor and away from the battle. Set them on the road to Lallybroch and home.”

“Are ye sure?” Murtagh asked.

“Aye. This battle is already lost. No matter how righteous, it was doomed from the start. We’ve done all we could, but now it’s over. I’ll not have my kin die for nothing.”

“And what are you to do?”

“I’ll take Claire and Faith to safety, and then I’ll turn back. Back to Culloden, and fight ‘til it’s done.”

“I’ll guide yer men to safety and set them on the path home. But ken this: when ye return, I’ll be waiting here to fight by yer side.”

“No. No, I said I’ll not have ye dying for nothing.”

“I won’t be. I’ll be dying with you.”

“No,” Jamie shook his head. “No, ye willna be dying at all because ye willna return to the battle.”

“Have ye forgotten the oath I swore to yer mother? Ye’re like a son to me, a balaich…” The words slipped out before Murtagh could refrain and his eyes widened slightly. An admission he’d never made, but something he’d always felt about Jamie. His godson nodded curtly, seeming to struggle for a moment with this unshakable front he presented. “I‒ I canna leave ye.”

“I ken, a ghoistidh.” Jamie’s voice was low, almost drowned out by the ruckus around them. He clapped Murtagh on the shoulder and his gaze swung over to where he had last seen Fergus. “But Fergus is a son to me, as I am to you, and with what’s about to happen, I canna give him my protection as I would like to. I’ve had to make peace wi’ the choices I made in this war, and I’m no’ afraid to die, but Fergus is only a lad. Please… lead my son home. Swear an oath to me as ye did to my mother that you will watch his back always, for as long as you live. Ye kept me safe until I became a man and then ye fought beside me, no matter the consequences, no matter what trouble I dragged ye into. I wouldna have Claire in my life if not for you, a ghoistidh, and now that we’re here, I need to see that my family will be safe.”

“I didna want to leave him,” Murtagh said quietly. “I’d spent the better part of his life defending him. But I couldna deny his request either, if it was to be the last thing he ever asked of me.” He smirked slightly, finding Fergus’s gaze in that moment. “Ye didna realize ye were stuck wi’ me, did ye?” he said wryly. “I’m bound to protect you by an oath now, my laddie.”

Claire looked over at Fergus and saw he was close to tears. Her arm went about his shoulders, drawing him against her side.

“He was protecting you too, then,” Claire spoke up, her gaze flitting back to Murtagh. “If you were protecting Fergus, you couldn’t be on the battlefield.”

“Aye,” he murmured. “Stubborn lad had it all worked out.”

“Except for the part where the fool wanted tae sacrifice himself on the battlefield,” Jenny fumed. “And where is he now? If Faith didna go through the stones with ye, and he was left with her at Craigh na Dun, why in god’s name didn’t he just come home?”

Claire drew in a deep breath. “Well, I… I did tell him what would happen in the Highlands if the British won the battle and put down the rebellion. Perhaps he felt there was a safer option. Perhaps he knew this would be the first place the Redcoats would look for him.”

“Oh, aye, they’ve been here already. But we could’ve hid him. We could’ve kept him safe.”

“They’ve been here?”

“Aye, about a week ago.”

She felt as though a weight had lifted off her shoulders at those words. “Then he got away with Faith. He did it. If the Redcoats are looking for him, it means they don’t have him.”

“Yes, but where?” Jenny asked again.

“Aye, that’s the question,” Murtagh agreed.

“We’ll need to puzzle it out, but I doubt we’ll come to an answer tonight,” Ian spoke up.

Jenny looked exhausted and at the same time, too worked up to sleep, and Claire knew her sister-in-law had lost as much sleep as she had these last few weeks, plagued with not knowing what became of her family. Still, there was nothing they could do at this very moment, as Ian had pointed out.

“I had one of the maids freshen up your room,” Jenny said suddenly and Claire startled.

“Not our… not the Laird’s room?” She saw the flash of confusion in Jenny’s eyes as she spoke. “I only mean that I don’t think I can sleep in there by myself.”

She felt silly admitting that, but Jenny’s gaze softened and she gave a quick nod. “I’ll have another room prepared.”

Ian and Murtagh had both cleared out the study, sensing all the talk was done for the evening, but Fergus lingered at Claire’s side as Jenny dismissed herself to make arrangements for Claire’s room for the night.

Claire turned to Fergus and brushed a hand gently over his curls. “How are you holding up? Do you… do you have any questions for me? About what I shared earlier? About where I’m from?”

Fergus only shook his head, and Claire understood ‒ it was a bit much to drop in everyone’s laps tonight ‒ but she wished for some sort of insight into what he was thinking.

She studied his profile as he stared ahead at the fire. “I… I have something for you.” She dug into her pocket and wriggled out the wooden horse, the rigid legs catching in the fabric of her skirt until it was free. “I saw this after I went back to my time, and I thought of you.” She held it out to him and watched as he took it into his hands and studied it, just as she had when she found it.

“Donas,” Fergus said softly.

She felt the tug of a smile and the burn of tears at the same time. Had it only been mere days ago where she’d carried the fear of never seeing him again? “I thought so, too.”

“This is mine?” He checked.

“Yes, that’s for you.”

She worried that he might find it juvenile, but he smiled then, ever so slightly. “Thank you, Milady.” His gaze fell back to the toy horse. “He reminds me of Milord’s sawny snake.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that. Well… I didn’t carve it myself but now you have something of your own like sawny snake.”

Fergus swallowed roughly as his thumbs moved over the smooth carving of the horse. She heard him hiccup slightly as he tried to stifle a cry.

“Come here,” she murmured, pulling him into her arms and tucking his head under her chin. “I miss him, too.”

“It’s not only that,” he said quietly.

“Then what? You can tell me.”

“I didn’t know if I would see you again. Murtagh told me you and Faith had gone away.”

She squeezed him tighter and felt her throat clog with emotion. “I missed you. Every day.”

“And Milord…” Fergus continued, his voice shaky. “Milord didn’t want me with him. H-h-he doesn’t trust me.”

She pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye. “No, that’s not true, Fergus.”

He stood abruptly and hurled the wooden horse as hard as he could at the floor. Something splintered off from it and the piece skittered across the floor. “Yes it is!” He screamed. “Whenever Milord would have to leave you, he always put me in charge of your care. He trusted me. Now he- he sends me away!”

“Fergus,” Claire whispered tightly. He stood rigidly with his chest still heaving and she reached a hand tentatively for his, expecting that he might pull away. But with his outburst over, Fergus’s anger seemed to give way to the grief it had tried to mask, and he burst into tears and gripped Claire’s hand. “Come here,” she cried. “Oh, I’m so sorry, darling.”

She pulled him back down next to her on the sofa and cradled his head against her shoulder. There were things she wanted to say to him ‒ things she realized in her time apart and also wanted to have Jamie present for when they were said. But Fergus was suffering under choices they’d made for him and some clarity was needed.

“It’s not because he didn’t trust you with protecting me and Faith,” she murmured as she stroked his hair. “I know my story earlier might sound hard to believe, but every word of it was true. And if… if we knew if you could travel through the stones, I have no doubt Jamie would’ve tried to send you with us. And if we knew Faith couldn’t travel, we would’ve thought of something else. It was a mistake, Fergus. One we’re all having to live with now, and you’re allowed to feel upset and hurt about it. You are. But it wasn’t because Jamie didn’t trust you or didn’t want you with him.”

“Then why?” Fergus’s voice was flat when he spoke, still choked with tears. Claire breathed in soberly and took his face in her hands so she could look him in the eye again.

“Well, it’s like Murtagh said earlier ‒ Jamie thought he would die at Culloden and he wanted to ensure every member of his family was safe before he did so. He loves you, Fergus, and he wanted you to be protected here, at his home… as his son.”

Fergus set his jaw, but Claire still caught the slight quiver of his lip before he spoke. “I’m not a baby. I don’t need protection.”

She drew in a breath, her mind scrambling for the right words.

“And I’ve never been apart from Milord, except when Faith was born,” he added. The crux of his pain was in the separation from Jamie, and no matter how well-intentioned the decision was, there would be no erasing that sorrow for Fergus.

Claire sighed heavily and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “You’re not a baby, you’re right. But even Jamie has needed protecting from time to time. It doesn’t mean you’re weak when you have someone protecting you, Fergus; it means you’re loved.”

His brows furrowed together and he looked away, a few more tears spilling silently down his cheeks. “Will he come back?”

“I don’t know that he will come back, if he thinks it’s safer for everyone if he stays hidden,” Claire told him honestly. “But we’re going to look for them. And we’re going to find them, Fergus. We will.”

“I’m coming with you?”

She framed his face in her hands and wiped at the tear tracks with her thumbs. “From now on, we stick together.” She caught the flicker of movement in the doorway and looked up to find Murtagh hanging back. “Though we’ll have to bring Murtagh with us,” she added wryly, smiling at him. “On account of his oath to Jamie.”

Fergus glanced over his shoulder and nodded once. “I suppose you can make yourself useful.”

“Oh, aye?” Murtagh took that as an invitation to enter and gave Fergus’s head a playful push into the back of the sofa. “I suppose so.”

He bent down and retrieved the small horse and handed it over to Fergus, who accepted it with a sudden flush in his cheeks, his smile disappearing.

“I broke one of his legs,” he pointed out regretfully.

“Dinna fash, I can fix it,” Murtagh said easily, scouring the floor for the missing piece, and upon finding it, he asked for the horse back, to see what could be done about it tomorrow.

“It’ll be alright, Fergus,” Claire said gently, hoping he understood she meant more than just the toy horse.

“I know, Milady.”

“Good,” she exhaled, feeling the smallest tug of a smile at her lips.

Jenny reappeared to tell Claire which room she’d be staying in and to usher both her and Fergus up to bed. Claire gave in easily, feeling bone-weary after the emotional toll of the day, but she’d said goodnight to Jenny at the top of the stairs so she might have a moment alone.

She then stood at the threshold of the bedroom that had belonged to her and Jamie ‒ off and on ‒ over the course of almost 3 years. Altogether, their time here likely only amounted to a year or so, but some of their most precious memories lived in these walls. From their earlier days here, married only a few months and learning what it was to give their heart and soul to another, to their days as a small family, navigating parenthood and building the life they thought they would always have here.

Even though she wouldn’t sleep there tonight ‒ she’d meant what she said to Jenny ‒ some part of her had a morbid need to still see the room before she could sleep.

She pushed into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, running her fingers over the bedding. She’d committed a serious mistake in the days leading up to this one and on her hours-long horseback ride through the spread of land that she knew so well: she’d allowed herself to imagine a homecoming.

Claire had pictured rushing into the farmhouse and finding Jamie there in the parlor, and how it would feel to behold him once more and feel his strong embrace, to hear his voice and cradle his face in her hands before she kissed him senseless.

And then there would be Faith to take into her arms and hold close to her heart and promise to never let go of her again.

She had let herself hope that if she could only make the journey ‒ travel 200 hundred years through time and then 25 miles through the Highlands ‒ then maybe they might just be here waiting for her, and she would at last be able to breathe.

As she sat there on the bed, Claire felt the pressure of tears building behind her eyes. The piercing blow amidst all of this sorrow was that it was Jamie’s birthday. Last year had been sweet and brimming with joy, and the soft memories of it seemed to belong to a different person entirely after the year she had lived.

What was he doing now, wherever he had ended up? She had no way to tell him that she had come back to this time, to their first home. Wherever he was, he would still think of her as lost to him forever, unless she found him.

“You promised you would find me,” she found herself murmuring into the silent room. “Even if it took 200 years. But we’ve gone and turned everything on its head now, haven’t we?” Her eyes glanced about the dark room and settled on Faith’s old cradle, still tucked away in the corner, now collecting dust. “Neither one of us is where we’re supposed to be, but considering that means you’re still alive somewhere, I’ll take it. Keep her safe, love. I’ll keep looking…” Her hand slipped down to rest over the barely noticeable swell of the child she carried. “No matter how long it takes. Even if I’m having to carry this one around with me. And I’ll have help, with Murtagh and Fergus with me.”

She stood slowly and slipped quietly from the room, pausing to turn back at the threshold for one last look before closing the door on that room and what had been a wonderful chapter in their life together.

It wasn’t done, their life together ‒ she refused to believe it was ‒ but with the deed of sasine and the hunt ahead of them for Jamie and Faith, she was keenly aware that the dreams of being Laird and Lady of Lallybroch had died that morning of the Battle of Culloden. What came next would be a different life than they had envisioned, but if she could find them…

Her hand rested over the door to the Laird’s room in a parting gesture.

If she could find Jamie and Faith, she’d gladly embrace the sorting out of new dreams. But saying goodbye to this one so unexpectedly left a hole in her already-battered heart.

--------------

author’s note: I know I’ve kept you in suspense... Jamie and Faith will be back in the next chapter for their side of the story! :)

#outlander fic #jamie x claire #faith fraser #outlander #OL fic #my fic #tbbfiy #the best by far is you

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maviemesregles · 5 years

Text

Once I was an Eagle

Finally, the chapter is here. It took a while to get it done and it's been a struggle in some ways.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it despite long waiting :)

Your comments mean the world to me even though I don't always have time to answer each of you. <3

BIG thanks to my beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur <3 She's truly a gem and has saved this chapter from miserable failure. I can't give you enough credits, Anne. But I'm glad to have you on this journey with me.

Part II will follow shortly after this one, possibly on Thursday :)

P.S. For the better atmosphere I recommend you to put on Dire Straits song "Romeo and Juliet" :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJmER493F4U

A link for AO3.

Enjoy! ♥

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

Chapter III: Catharsis

CHAPTER IV: Lovestruck. Part I

"I'm taking ye on a wee trip, Claire." Jamie stood in the doorway of the locker room, car keys in his right hand. "Ye need fresh air, ye look like yer about to fall down".

My mind froze for a second taken aback by his (dashing as always) appearance.

"Jamie, I can't. I -"

He did not let me finish raising his hand up, gesturing me to be quiet.

"There is no 'I can't' or 'No'. I dinna accept that." He stepped closer. "Maybe I am no doctor but I still can see when someone's worn out."

To be very honest he was right. In the last week, I’ve had ten major surgeries, several new patients to care for. I promised Terry to fill in for her and worked two additional shifts. And just thirty minutes ago I finished partial colectomy. I felt completely drained.

“But what about our… date?” I looked at him trying to find my keys buried in the depths of the bag. The word “date” still sounded strange, and sometimes inappropriate for me (I did not know if we were dating or having a friendship with benefits).

“A wee change of plan.” Jamie clicked his tongue, his hand laid at the back of my neck. “This will be our date then. Just ye, me and some nature.”

He pressed a quick kiss on the spot behind my ear. That soft, tender one that made me wonder, could this be forever? Or will we end up staying just Claire and just Jamie having fun?

"Take her will ye! She willna listen to me," smirked Geillis. "I'll take care of yer wee cheetie while yer away. So dinna fash, lovies.”

I rolled my eyes. Jamie coughed clearly trying to hide a laugh.

“I promise I willna be angry at ye for ruining our cinema time tradition. Just next time it’s my turn to choose a movie”. And just like that, grabbing the house keys from my hands she was gone.

“Tell me there is a hot shower where you’re taking me and I can borrow one of your gym's t-shirts for sleeping?” My head dropped back, fitting perfectly in the space between his collarbone and jaw.

Jamie’s hands circled around my waist locking just above my navel.

“There is a bath, Sassenach. An improvement to yer wee shower.” He nuzzled his nose against my hair. “And I can assure ye, ye willna need a sleeping shirt.”

A habit of falling asleep almost anywhere was my superpower. After we got into Jamie’s crossover Peugeot with Tesco groceries for our breakfast I immediately dozed off. The last time I sat in his car was two weeks ago, exactly three days after our first real date as Jamie called it.

Appearing at the hospital without any warning, he volunteered to bring me home after work. Though the GPS in Jamie’s phone had announced that the distance between Braid Road and Lauderdale street was just fifteen minutes I didn’t walk out of the car for at least thirty. I laughed needing to admit that sex in the car is not as comfortable as it looks on TV. Jamie frantically searched the glovebox for a condom while creating a mess of tissues, mints, and papers. I struggled with the front seat that didn’t want to go down. Though in the end, nothing was an obstacle. Later that evening as I prepared for bed, I welcomed the hickey starting to bloom bright purple on my neck.

I felt very much cozy in his car (despite previous activity here). Jamie had turned the seat warmer on (making fun of me for not handling Scottish weather “Ye English, weak creatures”). Shamelessly, I stole his coat to cover my always-cold-legs. The soft blur of Mark Knopfler’s voice on the radio and passing lights were the ones that made me sleepy. I awoke sometime later, noticing the familiar scenery disappeared and the darkness of the countryside had eaten all the electric lights. Jamie’s hand rested on my knee, his thumb drawing patterns that he only knew. He had a dreamy, faraway look about him. There was no GPS this time. Jamie knew his way, leading us through the Highlands where the history was almost palpable. Like that time (four days after car sex) when I had come back from a late shift at the hospital and called him.

It was the day I seemed to be annoyed with everything and everybody. I felt annoyed with Geillis and her endless discussion about her latest sexual encounter. With Adso for weeing on my fluffy bathroom rug. Even my touchpad on my phone betrayed me! Wasting my time on my coffee break with coffee that tasted like an old sock. Does it ever stop raining? And Jamie left for a four day trip to Broch Mordha. But most of all I was annoyed with myself for coming to the realization that I actually missed him.

I was exhausted. Too tired to cook, I ate three spoons of quinoa cold straight out of the fridge. Falling into bed, I felt each sore muscle in my back as I stared into the ceiling for minutes or possibly hours. I managed to get out of my clothes and just crawl under the duvet not showered, naked, with makeup on. Breaking all of my three own rules.

Jamie’s number was dialled in seconds without any hesitation (my fourth rule was broken as well). He picked up after five long beeps (I actually counted).

“Sassenach?” His voice deep with sleep.

Christ. What a smart one you are, Beauchamp. Normal people sleep at one am. He was asleep, clearly.

“Claire?” He shifted, readjusting position, sheets rustling in the background. “If someone abducted ye and yer calling me now to come and get ye, ye gotta let me know. Otherwise, I really would like to get back to my warm pillow. Of course, it’s not as nice as when yer with me but…”

There was banter in his voice but suddenly I felt ashamed, foolish for calling him like that. (Hoping for what exactly? )

"I’m sorry. I did not realize it was so late."

The incoherent mumbling poured out of me then. I was telling him all about how annoyed I was all day, about the rug I probably would have to throw away, how can’t I sleep now and a million other things before he finally shushed me.

“I miss ye too, Sassenach.”

My mind stilled then. The warmth rising up somewhere inside, behind my breastbone and running down to my cold fingers and toes, creating the sun under my skin.

“Do ye want me to tell ye a story to sleep?”

He told me then all about ancient castles, about the brave Highlanders and the battles they fought, Jacobite rebellions, mythical creatures and tales of the mountains. He was a born storyteller. Charming in fact.

I had fallen asleep feeling his presence even though he was away.

Jamie looked like he belonged here. With the mountains and grassy moors. With Knopfler’s voice singing "You and me, babe, how about it?".

“I did not know you were Dire Straits fan”. The smile crept in and took possession of my lips as I whispered my silent observation. His eyes fixed on me for mere seconds but long enough to drown in the blue depths of them once again. He looked at me in a way that made me shiver, made me feel a growing warmth mixed with lust that went deep down to the marrow of my bones. The navy of his slightly slanted eyes dug inside and stamped a mark at the very bottom of my core. That same look he gave me when I sat only-knickers-on at his bed legs crossed some days ago.

I could feel the blue marks getting born under my skin at the tender layer of paleness on my thighs where he held me just minutes ago (the bitterness of vague pain as his fingers pressed onto the tops of my flesh and the hot wave of my release making my stomach turn). Jamie’s place was a small studio on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It felt half empty and lonely, screamed for a touch of coziness. He’d explained he stays mostly in Broch Mordha with family. After his mom died a couple of years ago there was an aching hole and need for them to be together.

Jamie fell silent when we stood in the shower, hot water washing off the memories of my own parent's death. We slept. Together, limbs tangled under the rumpled sheets, Jamie’s warm hands soothing the marks he had left on me. That morning I’d said to him I wanted it easy and fun. “I don’t want to hurt you or myself. I want us to live in this moment. Just Claire and Jamie. No promises no regrets.”

“ I wouldna wish to hurt ye, Sassenach. Not ever.”

Then he stated more than asked, “It’s just Claire and Jamie having fun, see where it leads us, aye?”

For two nights, I dreamt about him. Of touching him. Of his swollen lip from my kiss. Of the way his breath hitched when he whispered “Claire”. I was painfully, utterly aware of him, of his presence making residence somewhere deep inside me. I lived with his smell (sharp and clean, hay and crisp air) which seemed to be everywhere, in each cell of mine and at the back of my throat.

Now my life consisted of flirty texting nonstop (I did not know I was able to do that being 32 years old anymore), of occasional Skype sessions when Jamie was away to Broch Mordha (me with a messy curly bun and old pajamas, glass of wine in one hand and Adso snuggling beside me; Jamie bare chest, bloody furnace he was, with whisky and his nieces and nephews popping to the screen from time to time).

One of those evenings young Jamie had asked his uncle who I was. (“that doctor lady ye talk a lot with, Ma says ye fancy her, is she yer girlfriend?”)

My heart skips a bit then waiting for Jamie’s answer. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to hear it (as if I hoped for something more, just drop it, Beauchamp). By now I’ve spent enough time with Jamie to know that his face could not hide any emotion. He would be the worst liar on Earth and there’s nothing that could be done about it. It was all there. Written on his face and easy for anyone to read. The tips of his ears became scarlet red as he shot a look to me on the screen and then back to his nephew who now was waving to me.

“Well, I do fancy Claire, aye.”

Before my smitten mind could conjure up any appropriate response wee Maggie was in the screen, climbing onto Jamie’s lap and pointing her little finger at me.

“Will ye marry her then, uncle Jamie?”

I choked on my wine and nearly spilled it on peacefully sleeping Adso.

“Should I call her doctor Claire, uncle Jamie?” Little girl shifted on Jamie’s laps looking up at him.

“Noooo, we should call her Auntie Claire!” Her brother grinned back.

“Yer wee devils, ye’ll make a lady uncomfortable and we dinna want that, right? Let yer uncle talk in peace. Jenny, mo cridhe?”

It was the voice of Brian Fraser. It was hard not to recognize as it had the same soft blur to it as Jamie’s. I haven’t seen him, neither the rest of Jamie’s family. Only his nephew and niece. It was a territory which was sort of forbidden to trespass. Because if we did it would mean we have something more than just a fling. The truth was we both did not know what it was between us. And what we wanted it to be?

“ C’mon. Get off yer uncle, the two of ye. There’s warm milk and shortbread cookies in the kitchen.” Jenny’s hands appeared on the screen helping the children off Jamie’s lap.

Of course, Jamie talked about me with his family. I did not know what he’d shared and how much they knew but I was grateful for them for respecting my private boundaries. I wasn’t ready to meet them but also there was never a discussion of such a possibility. It’s just that they knew about the existence of Claire Beauchamp as I knew Jamie’s family was very important to him. It was enough.

When we arrived at our final destination, it was pitch dark outside. On the way here I saw the sign that said Loch Lomond. We stood in front of the grey stoned cottage surrounded by mountains peeking out in the darkness. The stillness and quietness of the place was disturbed by the only sound of car engine still running on. A narrow stone walkway with shrubs of French Hydrangea and Azalea alongside led straight to a big wooden door. “Taigh Beann” it said at the very top of it, carved into the bronze plate that hung above.

“Gaelic.” Jamie explained setting our groceries bags down. “It means House of the Mountains.”

The inside reminded me of a house of my grandparents where I spent many summers until the age of five. It was filled with all kinds of vases and figurines, large, dusty paintings of nature in gold frames, books of all imaginable kinds. The old, burgundy patterned rug laid in the living room where I squealed happily to find a fireplace. In the centre stood big brown leather couch the kind I hated in the summer because it made my skin stick to it. In the corner where green velvet armchair nestled, we found an oak round table. The bedroom was small but light. The bed was centered under a glorious skylight offering the promise of a magnificent view of a starry night sky. But the main attraction was the bathroom. My mouth dropped open and I grabbed Jamie’s hand in excitement. What I saw was stunningly beautiful. The floor was lined with marble tiles, the windows extended from floor to ceiling and ran the length of the wall. Imagine what breathtaking scenery might be outside. The centerpiece of the room was a large clawfoot bathtub big enough for two.

“I told ye there’s an improvement to yer shower, Sassenach” Jamie winked leaving me to stand astonished by the view.

Sometime later I sat in the armchair that Jamie had moved for me to the fireplace (saying that I probably lived in Spain or Greece in my previous life). He himself retreated to the kitchen with a promise of dinner. I watched the flames dance and collide together all the same as we did. We’ve known each other for the past four weeks but sometimes it felt like a lifetime.

Our days together consisted of talking about everything and nothing, snuggling up on my couch watching Netflix, of Jamie cuddling Adso all the time. Of me ordering takeaways and only cooking breakfasts in case if Jamie stayed for the night. We used to hit the pubs once a week and get obnoxiously drunk. Then, of course, there was sex. And some more sex. We were travelling back and forth between my apartment and his studio. Jamie had fixed something in my car after he had driven it once cursing that I could have killed myself and how on earth I did not hear that sound? His toothbrush that we picked up together at Boots now lived in my bathroom and my pink cat pajamas took a residence in his closet. At the times we were not together my phone buzzed every other hour. We talked so much that I had to consider having a second mobile phone not to let my private life intervene with work. And suddenly now it struck me. What is going on Beauchamp? What has happened to you?

“I don’t like it.” My fingers typed a text hitting the button Send to Geillis.

Three dots appeared.

“What’s that?”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“Ye mean what he has in his pants? I thought it was all perfect till now…”

Before I could reply to her in a hateful manner another two texts appeared on the screen.

“Did he bring ye to a dark forest and now ye need help to escape? What was that movie about serial killer we watched..?”

“All joking aside, what’s wrong, Claire?”

My teeth sunk into the bottom lip as I tried to conclude what I felt. Control. There it was. I was losing it. Control over the situation, my feelings, over myself. Suddenly all my life always ordered and stable went down the hill adjusting to one James Fraser. I didn’t realize just till now how much I allowed him to creep under my skin in such a short time. Usual Claire wouldn’t let anyone take her away to some trip on a whim. At least I would have bartered with him or set my conditions.

A painful lump in my throat seemed to travel down and settle around my heart squeezing it. I thought there was actual physical pain. I knew what made me feel so insecure. It was the way Jamie made me feel. Safe, cherished, loved (?). He was always there. Ready to be my strength and help. My safe place to come back to, where all my masks would come off and my vulnerable self stands.

Like the time I caught a cold but have been so busy I had no time even to take any medicine.

Geillis dropped a pharmacy bag on my lap with a smirk on her face. “That’s from yer laddie. I dinna recall Frank ever did it to ye.” Inside there was a box of paper tissues, lozenges for sore throat, a box of Theraflu, and a little jar that looked like a jam with a yellow sticky note on it.

“I’m sure yer to busy being wrists-deep into a human that ye dinna have time to get any medicine. Even Jenny heard yer cough over the phone yesterday. Btw, that’s her handmade raspberry jam, especially for ye. I couldna get it to ye myself, have business at the brewery. Take care. Xxx.”

I grabbed a tissue from the box pretending I had a runny nose but in truth, there was a swell of tears. Geillis only smiled and left me alone staring at the bag Jamie put together for me.

Or the time when I had to cancel our date being summoned to work.

There were times I felt confident in what I was doing. But there were moments when even years of studying and experience did not give me enough confidence facing the difficult surgeries. I was half ready for the theatre play we were going to visit when our plans got interrupted. I had to be in the surgery for repair of aneurysm. Calling Jamie and mumbling “Sorry” every other second I could not stop myself from letting him know that I was actually anxious.

“There also might be a loss of blood flow to the legs from a blood clot…”

" Ye'll do just fine, Sassenach. Dinna fash. Ye have done this before, right?” He asked softly.

“Yes. But you can never guess possible complications and…” I sighed getting into my car. “Do ye think I am a bad surgeon?”

“I dinna think that, Claire. I ken that yer an excellent one. And ye shouldna ever doubt yerself. How long will it take?”

“ Three to five hours.”

“ I’m verra proud of ye, Sassenach.”

Despite my worries, the surgery went smooth. The patient was sent to ICU and was stable. I felt if the train ran over me. It was 6 am by the time I finally made it out of the hospital. Jamie’s car was standing outside and I rubbed my eyes thinking I’m imagining it. I wasn’t.

“What are you doing here?” I asked when I reached the car. “How long have you been here?”

Jamie took a sip of coffee, handing me a paper Starbucks cup.

“About two and a half hours I suppose. Didna want to miss ye.”

“Oh Jamie” I bit my lip and locked arms around his neck, my head dropped to his chest. “You didn’t need to do it but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Aye, I did.” His lips softly brushed over my temple. “How did it go?”

“Very well.” I whispered feeling my eyelids burn with the exhaustion of doing surgery for four hours.

Despite my weak protests, he brought me home. Sent me into the shower and by the time I was done he’d made scrambled eggs for me, watched that I ate all of it, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned up Adso’s litter tray and finally put me to bed as if I was a child. On the edge of sleep, I reached for his cheek, cupping it gently. “Where did you come from? Surely you’re not real”

He chuckled catching my hand to plant a kiss on each finger. “As far as I ken Ellen and Brian Frasers are the ones to blame for my existence. Sleep now, mo duinne.”

Another text from Geillis popped on the screen.

“Do ye like him?”

There I typed something I was afraid to acknowledge, something I would not be able to say out loud. But something that my fingers managed to write down on a cold white screen.

“I think I’m falling for him, Geillis. And it scares me. It scares the hell out of me.”

Three dots appeared and then stopped. And appeared again.

“Oh yer my wee poor thing. I tell ye this. Go with the flow, dinna force things but dinna resist either. I bet the lad likes ye more than ye think. He likes ye, ye like him. Just let it happen, Claire. It will lead ye to something eventually. And if ye need my shoulder to cry on, I am always there for ye.”

* * *

James Fraser was never sure what love is or what it felt like. Of course, he loved his family. He loved his sister and his nephews. Jamie would have turned the world upside down for them. He loved Ian who was like a brother to him. At the age of thirteen, Jamie thought he was in love with the neighbour’s daughter Maryl. She was bonnie. Tall and elegant with long ruddy hair just like his. He loved the feeling when they kissed. But then Brian Fraser told his youngest son that when he would meet the right woman he’ll feel it. From that time on Jamie has always remembered his Da’s words. Every time he tried to catch that feeling but it never was right. Until the moment he met Claire Beauchamp. It was as a stab into his heart and she was the only one who could stop the bleeding. As much as he tried to understand how this woman can make him want to ravish her until there’s nothing left of her and at the same time cradle and love her as the most precious thing in the world he still couldn’t. But Jamie knew he was falling in love with her and she would be the end of him.

Jamie’s voice was soft and slightly husky as he murmured along with the music playing from his phone. The kitchen was filled with a delicious smell of the meat he’d cooked and I needed to smile at the candles he had put on the table. Who would think there was a romantic inside this big Scot. My heart shattered just a bit with a sound of old cracks in it with each step I took finally reaching him from the back.

“Sassenach.”

My hands circled around him, face pressed to his broad back.

“You want to know a secret?”

“I do if it is something yer willing to share”. I could feel him smile without a need to see his face.

“I fancy you, Jamie. Very much.” My confession mirrored his that was said days ago.

“Do ye now, mo ghraidh?” He turned then to me grinning.

“What does it mean? You called me that before.” Now I smiled being trapped in his arms.

“I tell ye sometime later.” Jamie leaned in to kiss me. For a second it made me forget about our dinner. But he pulled off before I could make further implications on him.

“I have a lot of excellent plans for us tomorrow.”

“Oh do you then?” I could not resist patting his arse.

He smiled.

“Oh aye. I do.”

The rain started to fall down washing the day off as well as my worries.

#outlander outlander fanfiction #outlander #outlander fic #jamie x claire #once i was and eagle #maviemesregles #maviemesregles fic #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser

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iihappydaysii · 4 years

Text

title: the stranger

rated: m (tags on ao3)

pairing: jamie/john, john/OMC

word count: 2.8k

summary: This time when Lord John comes to Helwater, he's not alone, and Jamie can't possibly be jealous. No absolutely not. Not jealous at all.

read on ao3

. . .

This time, when Lord John Grey came to Helwater, he was not alone. A man had come with him.

In a deep indigo coat with bronze buttons, the stranger was well-dressed, but not as finely as Grey. His tricorn was sat slightly askew over cropped black hair. He was deep in conversation with Grey, and when Jamie stepped forward to take their horses, it felt as if Grey had barely noticed him at all.

Certainly, there were times when Jamie had bristled at Grey’s appearance, going so far as to pretend he hadn’t seen the man. But the coldness had never run the other way and they’d come to some form of a truce in the year after Willie was born. Based on the difference in behavior alone, it was hard not to wonder the identity of the man who had so thoroughly captivated Lord John’s attention.

As he guided the horses away, Jamie glanced curiously over his shoulder to see Grey laugh—a full-bellied thing—at something the stranger had said.

Grey and his nameless companion had come mid-morning, but it was dusk before the major arrived in the stables to speak with Jamie. It wasn’t necessarily unusual that it had taken so long. Grey often had business to do with the Dunsanys, but ever since Willie, they had spent more time together. For better or worse.

“Good evening, Jamie,” Grey said. “How have you been? Willie’s grown so much since I was here last.”

Jamie stopped pitching hay. “Aye, he has, hasn’t he? I canna believe how quickly it’s happened.”

“That’s what my brother says about my nieces and nephews.” Grey gave him a warm but not too eager smile. He found, inexplicably, that he missed the usual eagerness the major brought with him.

“I’m done here, if ye would be interested in a game of chess?” Jamie asked, before realizing it may have been the first time he’d been the one to offer rather than Grey.

“Well, I do have an engagement this evening, but I believe I have time for one short game.”

Jamie stabbed his pitchfork in a hay bale and grinned, cat-like, as he appraised Grey. “Dinna fash, Major. It willna take me long to best ye.”

Chess was Jamie Fraser’s game. He had a mind to see two or three steps ahead of his opponent. Grey was a good player, better than most Jamie had played, but he only rarely beat Jamie and that was usually when Jamie was tired or distracted or lacked a particular interest that day. Or on occasion, when he felt a strange sort of pity for the man, though that happened more rarely than he believed Grey thought it did.

Jamie was just two moves away from winning. All he needed to do was move his bishop up three and the game was his.

Grey was washed pale in the petal pink dust, the glow highlighting the tiny lines around his eyes. His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he watched Jamie’s hands.

Just move your bishop up three, a voice spoke in Jamie’s head.

His finger grazed the tip of the bishop, but he didn’t lift it off the board. With a sigh, he moved his knight instead.

What are you doing, man?

Jamie ignored that voice in his head again. Was it crime to make a bad chess move? Or to want to spend time with someone who regarded him as an equal? Or to be fascinated with the pink, round mark at this crest of the major’s cheekbone—?

“Jamie?” The sound of his name in Grey’s voice roused Jamie from his thoughts.

“Hm? What is it?”

“It’s your turn.”

“Oh right.” Jamie cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Now, Jamie realized, moving the bishop wouldn’t help anything. He’d wandered his way into a trap of his own making.

In just three turns, Grey had him in checkmate.

“I distinctly recall you saying you were going to best me,” Grey said, levity in his voice as he stood.

“Ah, well. Even I canna win every game.” Jamie smiled. “Would ye allow me to try and regain my title?”

“Normally, I’d happily oblige, but I do have an… engagement.”

“Aye, ye did say that.” Jamie felt a strange warmth in his cheeks, like the flush of embarrassment or—dare he think it—rejection.

“We’ll play again, though, before I go. And tomorrow, I was thinking a short ride and tea outside with Willie.”

“I’ll see you then, Major.”

Grey stood from the table and nodded, before walking away down the path and into the trees. Jamie watched him leave.

The next morning, before he was to meet Grey and Willie for tea, Jamie wandered down to the creek. He’d realized how much he smelled like the horses and the hay and felt it would do him good to clean off. He also decided to slip on his second, slightly nicer set of clothes, setting what he’d been wearing yesterday aside for a good wash. He stole a leaf from a mint plant in the garden and chewed it.

On his way to find Grey, he noticed himself in the reflection of a window, and he was glad he did because somehow in his washing, he’d missed a streak of mud near his ear. He brushed some straw off his coat, then continued on his way.

Outside the front steps of Helwater, Willie was in Grey’s arms, his small hands patting Grey’s cheek. Suddenly, Grey pretended to bite at Willie’s fingers and the boy broke out into a fit of giggles. Moments later, Willie poked at the man’s cheeks again and Grey snapped. Willie laughed once more, and Jamie couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his cheeks.

They had a sweet relationship, Willie and Grey, Jamie could not deny that.

Jamie was opening his mouth to speak when the front door of the house opened and the black-haired stranger bounded down the stairs towards Grey.

Grey’s eyes met the other man’s and he smiled.

Jamie was frozen, words trapped in his throat, when Grey finally noticed him. “Morning, J… Mr. Mackenzie. I have to introduce you to a friend of mine. Mac, this is my friend Mr. Matthew Taylor.”

Jamie forced politeness, though he shouldn’t have had to force it. Mr. Taylor seemed kind enough—a merchant, he’d explained. He lacked an air about him that most had upon meeting Jamie, either fear of his visible size and strength, or a mocking of his status. Mr. Taylor seemed to regard Jamie simply, as just a fellow man. However, Jamie had to suppress a feral urge to crack the man across the mouth with his knuckles when Jamie realized the man would be joining he, Willie and Grey on their morning excursion.

Willie was on his back, chewing on his left foot and making all manner of nonsensical noises, and they had eaten almost all of the sandwiches and drained the last of the tea, when Jamie finally figured it out.

Taylor’s shoulder was against Grey’s shoulder, for maybe no other reason than the small log they were perched on, and Grey had whispered something in his ear. Had Jamie not known the truth of what Grey was then it would’ve been impossible to make the discovery he’d just made, but Jamie did know and it was suddenly clear. Lord John Grey was attracted to this Mr. Matthew Taylor, with his solid jaw, muscular arms and eyes like willow bark.

Jamie figured, from the perspective of an objective observer, this merchant of Grey’s could be considered handsome, but—again, from the perspective of an objective observer—his handsomeness was not in the same caliber as Grey’s. Though, objectively, there would be few men in England or Scotland that could consider themselves among the major’s ranks in terms of attractiveness. Objectively speaking.

He wondered what Mr. Taylor would think if he knew when Lord John was appraising him with that look, he was likely imagining what he would like naked as the day he was born.

A dark part of Jamie’s mind imagined telling the merchant, considering that it might scare him off, but he knew, in truth, he wouldn’t do that to a man who’d become, not a friend, but something that was very much the same shape.

Regardless of these thoughts, Jamie somehow managed to make pleasant conversation with the two men until it was time for Willie’s nap. Taylor had gone back inside at Grey’s insistence, and Willie had drifted off to sleep with his chubby arms around Grey’s neck and his face pressed into the crook.

To not wake Willie, they spoke to each other in whispers.

“Did I do something to offend you?” Grey asked. “….Recently, that is?”

“Why would ye ask me that?”

“Why would I…? You were hostile that entire time.”

“If ye think that was hostile, I dinna think ye want to see me truly hostile,” Jamie said through bared teeth.

Grey snorted. “It doesn’t matter. I just wanted the opportunity to apologize if I offended you in some way. It felt as if things have been softening between us and I hoped not to lose any progress we might have made.”

“Ye dinna offend me, major. I’m simply tired is all. I dinna sleep well.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jamie. I do hope you feel better.” Grey smiled, adjusting Willie in his arms. “I should put Willie down to sleep.”

Jamie swallowed and gave him a curt nod, before turning his back. For some reason, this time, Jamie did not want to watch the man walk away.

That night, it really was true that Jamie couldn’t sleep. He found himself tossing and turning in the loft, unable to find a comfortable position, or a comfortable thought—that wasn’t Grey—to help him float away from consciousness. He was nearly there, finally, thinking of the Scottish moors, when he heard strange noises outside the stable.

Worried about possible thieves, they’d had a few encounters recently, Jamie slid out of the stable, grabbing his pitchfork as a makeshift weapon along the way. He was plunged into darkness, but could hear light footsteps and rustling leaves. Jamie stepped around the back of the barn. There was a laugh and a distinct “shh…” then, he noticed a lantern on the ground. The light was faint, barely turning the figures into dark silhouettes, still it was obvious who Jamie was looking at and what they were doing.

Grey and the merchant were embracing, kissing, not a sliver of that lantern light able to fit between them. It wasn’t something Jamie had ever seen before, not really, two men kissing like that, like lovers, for no other reason it seemed than that they both wanted to.

“We shouldn’t do this out here,” Taylor whispered, as Grey leaned in to steal another kiss. “Someone could see us.”

“My rooms upstairs, then?”

Jamie stood hidden where he was, protected by the sanctuary of the barn’s dark shadow. Once they were gone, Jamie returned to his bed in the loft above the stable, but he did not sleep.

He lay there, fighting with his own thoughts and the memory of the sound of their lips moving wetly against each other. Jamie couldn’t help but picture what they must be doing right now. Taylor divesting Grey of his clothes, revealing the even fairer skin hidden beneath the fabric. Would they leave bruises on each other’s bodies? And who—Christ— who would spread their legs for the other? The vision of John on his back, knees pulled up, waiting there for that man to open him up like a woman… Jamie resisted the urge to snap something in two.

Only then did he realize that despite the rage, he’d grown hard against his leg. Maybe if he just squeezed his eyes tight and thought of something awful, like the rank scent of a prison, the problem would resolve itself. Instead, his mind wandered back to the scene in his mind of a naked Grey laid out on bedsheets. This time, however, he forgot to imagine the merchant and the vision no longer made him angry, it just made him ache.

Jamie let out a broken cry and reached into his britches. When he found his release, with little effort, it was with the names of God and John Grey on his lips.

The next day, when Jamie was playing chess with Grey, he had never been more distracted in his life. How could he focus on which piece to move where when all he could think of was what he had done last night? And who’s face he saw in his mind while he chased down his pleasure? Not to mention, Jamie had seen Grey kissing Taylor the night before and knew they’d disappeared into Grey’s room to… do what lovers do. The rage boiled up inside him again. He accidentally knocked over three chess pieces when he tried to make a move.

“Did you not sleep well last night?” Grey inquired.

Jamie bristled. “What? Why would ask that?”

“You mentioned it yesterday. That you weren’t sleeping well… that’s all.”

“Oh, yes. Right. I slept fine actually, Major.” Liar. There wasn’t much reason to lie, or any at all, having Grey believe he’d not slept well was actually the best move he could make, but its closeness to the truth made Jamie uncomfortable.

In an embarrassingly small number of moves, Grey bested him again.

“Twice in a row,” Grey said, smiling that smile that made him look more wild animal than British lord. “I think that’s a first.”

“I ken it is,” Jamie said, under his breath.

“I apologize, but I’ll have to step out before a second game again today.”

“Plans with Mr. Taylor,” Jamie said, still under his breath, as he stood.

“You dislike him,” Grey said and it wasn’t a question.

Jamie thought he might like the man well enough if he kept his bloody hands off John Grey.

“I dinna ken the man well. I have no opinion.”

“Now that I find hard to believe.” Grey smiled, a small thing, mostly to himself. “He’s an honorable man and good company. In time, I think you’ll come to like him.”

Jamie’s chest tightened and it forced out his breath. “He’ll be returning to Helwater?”

Grey smiled another one of those secret smiles. “Yes, I hope so.”

“Well.” Jamie clenched his jaw, pulling back his shoulders. He thought of how his father told him to make himself big if he encountered a predator in the forest. Grey wasn’t dangerous and yet he felt threatened. “If that’s the case, you’ll want to be more careful about where you two… act out your lusts.”

His face went pale white, realization sweeping over him. “Oh God, Jamie.”

“We’ve had a problem with thieves recently. I heard noises and I thought… what I found was a different crime all together.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Grey shut his eyes. “I certainly didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Jamie didn’t reply, but as Grey was standing there, cheeks pink from embarrassment, his body tense, Jamie’s mind betrayed him. He wondered what would happen if he stepped forward, put one hand under Grey’s chin and another on his waist. Could he kiss the man strong enough and deep enough to chase away thoughts of his merchant? Was there still enough want, enough passion, in Grey for Jamie that Jamie could take him for his own if he wanted?

There were only a few steps between them. It would be easy enough to find out, but what would Jamie do if Grey pushed him away? What would he do if he didn’t? No matter what his body was telling him last night, no matter what the ache in his chest was telling him now, like a dog chasing down a horse, Jamie would have no idea what to do with Grey if he actually caught him.

“I promise,” Grey said. “You won’t have to see that again. I really do have to be going now though.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you… for the game.”

Jamie nodded. This was his chance. He could be like that dog, reach out for this man and try to figure out what the hell to do, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, stupidely, looking at Grey, until the man tipped his hat just slightly and walked away.

In that moment, Jamie saw the paths in the woods of his life diverge. He’d taken this one, but he’d have to spend his life with the knowledge that the other path existed, out there somewhere, and on it, Jamie Fraser was kissing Lord John Grey.

#lord john grey #john x jamie #my fic #outlander nonsense

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cowandcalf · 5 years

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9.15 - Danny and Rachel :-)

‘Ho’opio ‘ia e ka noho ali’i a ka na’

Shall we?

It’s a must to talk about Danny and Rachel because the hype about those two is so huge and all the opinions beforehand what might happen have led to assumptions. I know the whole story now, I just watched the episode. My entire focus was drawn to these scenes with Danny and Rachel and I couldn’t stop grinning and squirming on my couch.

I remember romance movies where getting together was so non-convincing I couldn’t stop the epic eye-rolls when I witnessed one embarrassing moment after the other. I debated the whole time to switch to another channel to save myself from lack of passion and cringing on my seat.

Because that was my feeling when I saw Rachel and Danny together. I mean, seriously? I can’t be bothered by that nonsense. There’s no meat on the bone here. Not from my point of view.

That wasn’t scary at all, in fact, it felt more as if I’ve watched a funny, odd high school movie with teens who do not know how to flirt. That goes especially for Rachel. She’s way out of training. Sometimes I giggled behind my hand because I couldn’t cope with the r ridiculousness of the moment.

Let’s make that a short summary. I get it that Danny wanted to stay home because of the Hurricane. As it seems H50 isn’t busy besides supporting HPD. I guess Steve has sent Danny home to take care of Charlie and Rachel. It felt odd, yes, that no one of the H50 team mentioned Danny during their case. But I guess that’s because everyone was okay with Danny being at home with his kid and the mother of his kid, making sure his house is Hurricane secured. Back to Rachel and Danny.

Point one: Rachel rang the doorbell or she knocked. She didn’t just enter Danny’s house as if she has a right to do. Danny opens without turning the key. So this means Rachel came like a guest, knocking and waiting although Charlie was with her.

Point two: Rachel hits hard on Danny. She flirts, she makes heart eyes, she slips some innuendo into her sentences and it’s not even passionate. It’s forced, it’s funny, it’s off, it’s freaking terrible and it misses the aim by far. I cringed sometimes because it was so awful!!! Yes, it’s true, Rachel wants more. She wants something from Danny. She’s a woman who needs constant approval from a man. Rachel needs to be admired, wooed and loved. And now Danny’s her target because she’s free and single and I guess she can’t handle it well.

BUT: Point three: Danny pulls back. He feels pressured and so many times I’m not sure if he knows how to handle the situation. I guess, he hasn’t seen that coming. Not with this force from Rachel’s side. Of course, it’s a great feeling to be the center of a woman’s attention and even if this said woman his your ex-wife, the one he has tried to get back at one point.

So, yes, Rachel is the one who mentions their first night when they detect the deodorant in Danny’s boxes. She wants to talk about sex and it’s so awkward and almost painful how much she pressures and only shuts up when Danny plays along. Poor Rachel. And Danny kind of seems a bit stressed. Besides, those are good memories for both. But Rachel slaps the sexy flashbacks constantly in Danny’s face. The moment they play yahtzee/yatzy (?) this dice game on the floor the mood is honest and light. I love how Rachel laughs and how much fun Danny has. He gets a full fash flush when she says that he’s a sore loser. And do you know why? Because this reminds Danny of Steve because Steve says that often to Danny and Danny just gets hit by a wave of longing for Steve and he knows it still takes hours before he’s going to see Steve again...huh?

So, the absolute worst, most painful and embarrassing moment was when Danny and Rachel woke up on the couch, holding each other while sleeping on the couch and trying to explain to Charlie why mommy and daddy cuddle together. Charlie only saw his mommy cuddle with Stan. So this was SO BADLY covered and it felt like Rachel was happy and flustered and Danny was freaking relieved to be sitting upright, released of his duty to take care of Rachel. Danny is a cuddler, for the record and of course, it’s wonderful to hold someone in your arms and Rachel is pliant and peaceful and charming. Nothing wrong about that.

And also for the record, I don’t think they had sex. I don’t even think they kissed. Nothing happened. They had a fun time, Rachel brought her message across that she’s very interested in Danny, again..., and whatever he wants, she stays in line and she’s up for grabs. But the main task was to make sure Charlie is safe and of course, Rachel was with him and Danny wanted to know that she’s safe, too during this terrible storm.

But, the best thing ever... the first thing in the morning that appears on Danny’s threshold is - Steve! And Rachel is genuinely happy to see him. And Steve wanted to make sure that everything was alright and he got a message across between the lines that Danny caught loud and clear and instantly. Rachel did too and again with the heart eyes! So Boring and my blood pressure rose because - it’s time to leave, Rachel!

My McDanno proof followed suit and hit the bull’s eyes. Steve bargained for pancakes and negotiated extra requests like bananas and chocolate chips. And Danny only ranted for about a split second before he gave in and was more than happy to hit the pan with the batter to create tasty pancakes for Steve. Danny gave in without any resistance and he is pleased to cook breakfast for Steve. And Steve joked about ‘that was awkward’ and talked with his eyes and teased Danny when Rachel left. And again Danny felt off balance about the whole Rachel stuff because Rachel is way too pressuring and Steve just immediately knew with what Danny had to deal all night.

And Steve kissed Danny of course, long and teasingly before he dug into his pile of pancakes and Danny made a face and told him to shut up but stole another quick kiss anyway.

You feel me, guys?

#h50 #mcdanno #h50 9.15 #danny and rachel #danny and rachel meta #scene analyzing #danny williams #rachel edwards #steve mcgarrett

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takemeawaytocamelot · 5 years

Text

Expedition of the Heart: Fashionably Nervous

Thank you all for your patience! Here’s the next installment of my young Ian AU, which I just love! HUGE thank you once again to @akb723 for being the best beta ever. And also the genius behind all the titles (seriously she's amazing). Anywhooooo, I hope you enjoy reading! As always, leave me a comment or drop an ask to my inbox if you’ve got questions! Also if you want to be tagged in future updates of this series, please send me a direct request.

Catch up here: Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4

Rollo sneezed and Ian turned to glare at him. The dog just stared back.

“It’s a date, Rollo. I need to look nice.”

The contents of his small closet had exploded all over his bed and floor, clothes heaped in untidy piles without thought. He lived a simple life and didn’t spend much money on his appearance. Every few months he got his hair cut, bought new clothes when his old ones wore out, and got Rollo his supplies. Otherwise his money went into his savings and the few miscellaneous needs that come up from time to time. A knock came at his door and Ian hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans.

“Come in,” he said.

Auntie Claire walked in, her eyes bugging out at the state of his room.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen your room like this before,” she said, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Auntie, help me?”

“When is your date?” she said sympathetically

Ian sighed and sat on a corner of his bed.

“Wednesday. It’s her day off this week.”

Claire lifted an eyebrow.

“You must be special if she’s spending her precious time off with you. Jamie said you’re doing a picnic?”

“Aye. I wanted to do something nice for her. The weather should hold steady this week, but I’ve got an umbrella and blanket packed in my car to be safe.”

“Only one blanket? What will you both sit on?”

His face flushed.

“An extra, uh blanket, I mean. Uncle Jamie said I could borrow the nice picnic blanket he got ye a few years back?”

His auntie smiled at him.

“That’s perfect. Now, what is it you need help with?”

Ian waved vaguely at the mass of clothes piled on his bed.

“I dinna ken what to wear, Auntie. I want her to see I ken how to look after myself, that I’ve a good, steady job, but… I dinna want to look like a dandy either.”

She mad a hmmm noise as she began picking through the options. He did his own laundry, so she wasn’t overly familiar with what he had.

“This is all you’ve got?”

“Aye. Weel and the suit mam sent for Christmas last year. And my kilt. But… I dinna want to bring that out just yet.”

Auntie Claire eyed him critically before she sighed.

“You know… I’m not exactly the best person to ask for fashion advice.”

Ian nearly groaned.

“Auntie, I dinna have anyone else to ask!”

“Well, you could call your mum. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help you choose exactly what you need, and I know she’d love to hear about Rachel too.”

Relief flooded Ian’s veins at the thought of speaking to his mam. He grabbed Claire up in a big hug before pulling his phone from his pocket. The door closed quietly behind his aunt as she left him in peace.

Ian felt a little nervous as his listened to the ringing. He hadn’t told his family about any of his other girlfriends, but Rachel was different.

“Ian?”

The sharpness of his mother’s tone pulled him from his thoughts.

“Aye, mam.”

“Are ye alright, lad? Is anything the matter?”

For a moment, he was confused at her question.

“What’s the lad done now?” came his father’s muffled voice.

Belatedly, Ian looked at the clock and winced.

“I’m sorry, mam. Nothing’s wrong, I promise. I didna look at the time before I rang. I’m sorry I woke ye up.”

“Why are ye callin’? Did something happen?”

“Weel… I need your help. I… I asked a girl out.”

The phone went silent for so long Ian worried he’d dropped the call.

“Mam?”

“What girl? Who did ye ask out?”

“Her name is Rachel. She’s a nurse at Auntie’s hospital. She’s… Mam she’s beautiful. I’m takin’ her out on Wednesday and I dinna ken what to wear.”

Ian heard the sound of an old door close as his mother left her bedroom.

“Ye’ve never called about a girl before, Ian. What’s so special about this one?”

“I… I dinna ken, exactly. But I like her. I waited up to sit wi’ her while she had a short break in the middle of the night. She agreed to go out wi’ me.”

“Oh Ian,” she said softly. “I’m so happy for ye. Tell me about her. What’s she look like?”

Ian sat on his bed and told his mother everything he knew about Rachel, which wasn’t much.

“Alright, alright. So ye need help pickin’ what to wear, aye?”

“How did ye ken that?”

“It may have been a long time since I last laid eyes on ye, Ian Murray, but I’m yer mother and I ken how ye are. Now go turn on the video call and show me what options ye have.”

He sighed and looked around the room.

“It’s a bit of a mess…”

“Dinna make excuses.”

With a few taps on his phone, he pulled up the video and smiled at his mam. She looked tired, but gave him a warm smile.

“Ye look good, lad.”

“Thanks mam.”

“Now gi’ us a look at yer clothes.”

Ian turned the camera around and did as his mother instructed. Half an hour later, they’d put together a respectable outfit. As he cleaned up the rest of his mess, his mam gave him the big family update. It had been some time since he’d learned what all his siblings were doing and it was nice to listen to his mam talk.

“So ye promise me, Ian. Promise you’ll ring after ye’ve gone out wi’ wee Rachel.”

“Aye, mam. I promise to call ye as soon as I can.”

Suddenly the elder Ian’s face filled the small screen.

“Are ye still talkin’ to the lad?” his father asked.

“Aye!” Jenny said, pushing her husband out of the way. “Get yer big head out of my face.”

Ian laughed, watching his parents. A sharp stab of homesickness stole his breath for a moment.

“Ye look good, son,” Ian’s father said.

“Thanks, Da.”

Jenny’s face came back into focus on the screen.

“I’m afraid my morning’s started now your da’s up.”

“Aye, I’ll let ye go then.”

“Dinna wait so long to ring again, Ian. I miss the sound of your voice.”

A lump formed in his throat and he coughed to dislodge it.

“I’ll ring ye soon, Mam. Promise.”

“I love ye, Ian.”

“Love ye too, Mam.”

She gave him a warm smile before the video call ended. Christ he missed his family. Maybe he’d have to start planning a trip back for a visit. If all went well with Rachel, perhaps he could bring her along.

Rollo, who had fallen asleep while Ian had spoken with his mam, suddenly barked himself awake. He looked at Ian with a puzzled expression before shaking himself.

“Dinna fash, Rollo. Mam helped me find somethin’. Lets take ye out to do yer business before we go to bed, aye?”

Ian patted his leg and led the dog out.

***

Claire looked out her bedroom window, watching her nephew and his dog. Her husband came up behind her, hair still dripping from his shower.

“He’s a good lad,” Jamie said.

“He is. And he’s got a date.”

“Aye, so he told me.” Jamie turned Claire to face him, grinning down at her. “The lad’s near terrified to take this lass out.”

Claire smiled back, brushing the wet, red hair from his face.

“We were never that young, were we?”

“Young? Nah. Terrified to ask a beautiful lass out on a date? Och aye. I remember that verra well.”

“What I remember,” she said, tracing feather-light circles on his bare shoulders. “Is wondering why you fancied a harried nurse like me. I know of at least six other nurses who hated that you brought me coffee.”

Jamie gave a deep chuckle, arms sliding around her to pull her in close.

“How could I see anyone else wi’ you right there?”

“And you still feel that way? After all these years?”

Rather than offer a reply, he met her gaze. His blue eyes were dark with desire and adoration, holding her attention until she knew the truth. He loved her to the depths of his very soul and she held his heart in her hands. Reaching up, she pressed her lips to his and sighed.

“I feel exactly the same way,” she whispered against his mouth.

Then he gathered her in his arms and showed her just how much he loved her.

@eclecticstarlightconnoisseur, @bkhw, @momwendy, @mebertolini, @michaela-armstrong-paul, @xdarlingx966, @thatwetwomaybeoneagain, @thesketchingwitch, @abbydebeaupreposts, @riveter-rose, @scwicks, @diversemediums

#expedition of the heart #outlander #outlander fanfic #takemeawaytocamelot #akb723 #young ian #jenny murray #ian murray #claire fraser #jamie fraser #rollo the dog

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renee-writer · 4 years

Text

Just a Spot of Whisky Chapter 9 Sisters

She sees it right away. His rage. He tries to hide it as he sees Claire settled in, getting her some fruit( her current craving) and milk. She sits and starts on her home work. Jenny pulls him away.

“What is it brathiar?”

“That blasted Geneva!”

“Duscany? She is still after you?”

“Worse. She is after Claire. Cornering her in the hall and telling her she will be mine when our marriage fails.”

“That bitch!”

“Exactly what I called. That and more. I threatened her with you. Sorry about that but I can't be hitting lasses.”

“Naught to be sorry about. She threatened my sister. I have no trouble setting her straight.”

“Aye. We will get a restraining order if it continues.”

“How is Claire? She didn’t believe her, did she?”

“No she didn’t. But she was shaken up. I ken stress isn't good for the baby.”

“Your right it isn't. Jamie have you two thought about letting her finish here?”

“We have discussed it. But this child has already taken so much from her. I don’t want her to miss out on the last part of upper school too.”

“You are a grand man Jamie. Let's go talk to your wife.” They join her. “Claire, Jamie told me about what that jealous lass said. You ken she is just venting. Right?”

“Yes. I do. I didn’t pay what she said any mind. The poor lass just missed out on the best man ever of course she is upset.” Jenny laughs.

“God I love you. You are the best sister. I am more then ready to punch her out if you need me too.”

“Thank you Jenny. I will keep that in mind. I want to apologize to you. I had a feeling that Ian was about to talk to Brian before we stole all the air in the room.”

“Dinna fash my dear. He is planning on talking to him tonight. Would you do the honor of being my matron of honor? And no I don’t care if my niece or nephew leads the way.”

“Jenny,” her eyes feel with tears. “Of course I will. Thank you.” They both are teary eyed as they hug. Jamie, forgotten, watches with tears in his own eyes.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #modern au #just a spot of whisky #sisters

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kkruml · 6 years

Text

STAY chapter 10

Well this only took...26?... days to write.

Thank you to @missclairebelle and @sassenachwaffles for getting me back on this train.

And to everyone who asked about, read, reblogged, and cheered on this story. There was more I wanted to write for this chapter but I am sending it off into the universe so I can let it go and push forward to what happens next. I hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

AO3

Previously

“I missed ye is all.” He closed his eyes and lost himself in the feel of her fingers against his scalp, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the softness of her breast beneath his cheek. As euphoria was threatening to overcome him, he sighed heavily and shifted his body to stand. Her fingers tightened into his hair and held him close, and without hesitation he sank back down against her.

“Are you not staying?” Behind a light tone, he heard the disappointment.

“I have to go- my sister is in labor with my first nephew- she’d skin me alive if I wasna there.”

Her breathing hitched for a moment but she cleared her throat and softened her grip, “Congratulations. You should get going then, you said it’s a fair drive to get… home.”

“I’m sorry I haventa leave ye, Sassenach,” his voice was low as it hummed against her stomach. His arms tightened around her as he placed a soft kiss just below her navel. “Ye could come wi’ me, ye ken.”

He felt her heartbeat quicken as he waited. Her voice was tight as she asked, “To Lallybroch?”

A coy grin played at his lips as he watched her face crinkle. “Aye.”

Claire

The car slowly came to a stop. After two deep breaths from beside her before she heard the engine cut. Her eyes slowly trailed up his hand, searching for the tender, unguarded dip of his wrist where his pulse settled. Instead, she found his grip still firm on the gear shift, fingers clenched and skin white against his knuckles. The long lean muscles of his forearm were taut, his shoulders square and unflinching. His eyes were focused on a point far in the distance. The tension between his shoulder blades could have been cut with a knife, the reverberating pulse filling the space between them.

She slowly turned her gaze to the house in front of them- old stone molded by time and softened by the memories within it. Large fingers slowly laced with hers and tightened.

“Well then….” He shifted in his seat as he turned to face her. “Welcome to Lallybroch.”

The grounds were an enchanting backdrop to the old, well loved home. Jamie’s hooded gaze told of both pain and memories here, but now was no time to ask questions, so she smiled and rubbed her thumb against his and exhaled.

His grasp on her hand held steady as he led her through the dimly-lit entryway and into the empty house. “Where is everyone?”

“The hospital,” his voice was tired. “Jenny and Ian will bring the wee bairn home tomorrow. I wanted a bit of time here in the quiet… with you.”

Her heart constricted at his words and she pulled back on his hand, forcing him backwards until he was facing her. In a time now when she had no family, walking into the very heart of Jamie’s own stole her breath and quickened the beat of her heart. She wanted to tell him, show him how grateful she was that he wanted her here. That she wanted to be a part of his world, yet the thought of family pierced her heart in the gaping wound left by her parents. Those words were buried at the base of her throat, unable to find air.

Her eyes searched his; finding a mix of exhaustion and need, she raised their hands to her mouth and gently laid a kiss on his skin. He nodded silently, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. Together, the sound of creaky floorboards followed them down the hallway towards his room.

Jamie

“I dinna think I’ve ever done that in this room before, Sassenach.” His voice was thick as his breathing steadied. A light layer of sweat on her skin glistened against the soft glow of light. The pulsating effects of their efforts coursed through his body; his eyes fixed on her face and he watched as her lashes fluttered open.

“Oh, come now Jamie,” her voice had a playful tone as he felt her smile against his skin. “If these walls could talk, I’m sure they could write a story.”

His breath caught in his chest, and she froze. Lifting her head to search his face, her smile faded. “You look haunted, Jamie.”

He let out the remaining breath in his lungs, closing his eyes briefly before settling them on the curve of her cheek, just shy of meeting her gaze. The deep clear blue she’d swam in just moments ago faded to a story gray. Two fingers drummed against her skin as he looked around the room, seeing shadows of ghosts long gone. “I came back here after it happened…These walls have witnessed the worst days of my life.”

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to-”

“Och, dinna fash, lass,” he muttered. Still feeling the tingling of her lips against his, his hand outlined her side from hip to shoulder, finding comfort in the dips and curves of her skin.

She leaned into his touch and purred as he let his hand linger.

The image of her that first night fluttered into his mind. White chucks and a coy smile lit her face as she leaned against the brick wall in the alleyway. Wide whisky eyes staring into the dark corners of his soul broke down the first wall of many- tilting his world from a faded grey to incandescent shades of sunrise. He had wanted to kiss her then, touch her, feel her and know her to be real. “Given the way we met-in that bar… I wouldha guessed the same thing.”

“Mmm,” her voice vibrated softly against his side, but she gave the gift of silence for him to finish.

“Lots of bad dreams, ye ken. Lots of howlin’ in the night. Scared Jenny somethin’ fierce. But she never wavered.” At the mention of his sister, he felt the beat of his heart steady and a small curl of a smile play at his lips.

“Couldna stay here forever though, Jenny and Ian were newlyweds, and I could tell they dinna ken what to do to help. In truth, neither did I… So I went away.”

“Where on earth did you go?”

“France. Visited a cousin. Got rip roarin’ drunk in Paris- got myself kicked out of more than a few pubs, picked fights with strangers for no reason, and generally raised hell just to feel somethin’ other than loss.”

Her hand traced circles against his ribs in a hypnotic rhythm that lulled him as he felt her warm breath against his skin. “I know what it feels like to need something… anything other than nothingness.”

His arm tightened around her as his nose nuzzled into her hair, the familiar scent of lavender filling his nostrils.

“I had a close call one night, walkin’ home, half-gone wi’ drink…” his throat tightened as the memory seeped back into his mind. “I stumbled from the pavement onto the roadway and heard the deafening sound of a car horn behind me, followed by screeching tires.”

Her hand stilled against his skin, the tips of her fingers pressing firm into his side as she gasped.

“Same sounds, same fear. But that time… I was alone. There was no one to save- except me.” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I wanted to forget my loss, the pain of it all. But I dinna want Jenny to ever feel that hopelessness… no’ about me.”

A warm tear slowly trickled down his chest as he felt her lashes blink hard against his skin.

Despite the calm in his voice, he felt bile rising in his throat as he clenched his teeth together, “I was so reckless I also got myself killed… and damned Jenny in the process.”

“So I left, came back to Scotland. I couldna bear comin’ back to Lallybroch- decided I needed to start over… in Edinburgh. Music helped fill the void enough to go through the motions each day. But I resolved no’ to feel anything deeply again- bad or good.”

“And you haven’t been home since.” He heard a trace of longing and sadness lingering under her composed tone. “Is it painful to be home now?”

“Doesna pain me as much as I thought it might, bein’ here.” Fatigue crept into his voice as he sighed, “I have you here, Claire.”

A soft smile crept across her lips as she brushed them against his chest in a light kiss.

“Now come here, let me show ye how ye heal me.”

Claire

She woke to an empty bed. Her hand grazed his pillow, the faint heat left by his head was evidence that he hadn’t been gone long. Grabbing a fresh set of clothes, she tiptoed to the bathroom in search of a hot shower.

She had hastily packed the nearest clean clothes she could find the night before, and she sighed in relief as she pulled out clean knickers and her favorite sweatshirt.

Freshly showered and in need of caffeine, she deposited her things in Jamie’s room and headed down the hallway towards the stairs- and hopefully the kitchen.

Passing the last door on the left before the stairwell, a brief movement caught her eye and she stopped. Behind a partially open door she caught the unmistakable curve of Jamie’s shoulders, with a small ball of blankets carefully secured in his arms.

A brief flicker of Jamie with a child… her own… flitted through her mind as she stepped light-footed towards the bannister as not to disturb them.

Jamie

“He’s a braw lad, Jenny,” he said with a note of pride in his voice as he settled into the chair beside the bed. “Ye sure he’s Ian’s?”

“Och yer lucky this one has me worn out or I’d thump yer heid, ye daft fool.” Her lips pulled into a smile as she leaned back against the pillow. “So ye brought someone here, then?”

“Aye.” His muscles tightened as he sat up straight in his chair. He blinked hard, his eyes tracing the lines of his hands, firmly clasped together in his lap. “I did.”

Claire.

She was here, with him.

The thoughts flushed his cheeks red and he felt the heat spread to the tips of his ears. Feeling her gaze on him, he cleared his throat to maintain his composure.

Her eyes tracked his movements as she lifted one eyebrow, “Dinna think I’d see ye here wi’ another lass.”

“Another lass?” The warning in his voice was thinly veiled.

She wasn’t just another pretty face.

“Aye. Ye heard me fine, I reckon.” Holding the bairn comfortably against her chest, she watched his face as it contorted in thought. “no’ so soon or…ever, really.”

So soon?

He never expected to heal, not truly.

But he had- because of Claire.

Hearing his heart pulsing in his ears, he countered, “Look Janet. Claire is… different. I’ll thank ye to give her proper respect.”

Matching his bravado, she squared her shoulders and leaned forward, “All I’m tryin’ to say brother… is that I’m glad ye seem to have found some light through the darkness.”

Sorcha.

His breath caught at the thought.

Could Jenny really see Claire-truly see her the way he did?

That she was truly different?

A bridge between both the life inside of him and the possibilities of the future that had been beyond his grasp.

He opened his mouth, but no words formulated. He paused for a moment before closing it and settled on a decidedly Fraser grunt before holding his hands out to her. “Let me hold the wee bairn.”

Claire

Tiptoeing up the stairs, she heard a voice from behind a doorway call her name. The voice wasn’t Jamie’s, but a higher pitched tone but no less sturdy. Looking at the door to Jamie’s room for a final moment, she squared her shoulders and turned, pressing her hand softly against the partially opened door.

She was greeted by a petite woman, perhaps a year or two older than herself, with a familiar face. Straight nose, catlike eyes that matched her brother but instead of fiery curls, her hair was straight and raven black. She was striking.

“Ye must be Claire, I reckon.” Her Highland lilt was strong as her eyes traveled up and down her form. “Jamie said he brought a lass here last night. Didna much believe him but here ye are- clear as day.”

“Yes, I’m Claire. You must be Jenny,” she fought to keep the nerves out of her voice. Her eyes flickered to the bundle in her arms, “I do believe congratulations are in order. The new babe looks to be quite perfect.”

“Och, weel,” her voice softened at the mention, her hand caressing his head. “The bairn gave up quite a fight, but wee Jamie is here now.”

The image of Jamie as a baby, with wisps of fuzzy red hair against alabaster skin, crept into her mind. She took a tentative step closer, seeing a small hand poke out from under the blanket. “He’s beautiful.”

“Come here, have a seat Claire,” she patted the chair next to the bed, “no need to stand around on ceremony.”

With a few quick steps forward, Claire lowered herself into the chair and arched her neck to see wee Jamie’s face.

With one eyebrow arched and both eyes focused on her face, Jenny asked, “So what is it ye do Claire?”

A smile played across her lips at the question. “I’m just finishing the surgical residency program in Edinburgh.”

“Impressive,” Jenny’s tone alerted an odd sense of curiosity as she met Claire’s eyes. “Do ye plan to stay in Scotland, then?”

Hearing the real question being asked, a flicker of Jamie’s smile flashed through her mind. “I really hope to. I’ve lived many places but haven’t really felt like I belonged anywhere. I hope to change that.”

“Claire, please…” Jenny’s face went slack, abandoning her composed façade. Her voice cut through the air and hit Claire in the chest. “Dinna break his heart, it’s barely put back together.”

Claire swallowed hard, hearing the depth of her plea. Jenny had seen him at his worst and was begging her not to send him back to that dark place.

“I don’t plan to, Jenny,” her voice started softly but found its strength as she finished, “I- I love Jamie- truly. I want the best for him just like you. I just hope that includes me.”

Jenny’s face softened for a moment before settling back into a confident and contented smile. They sat quietly in companionable silence, but she could feel the start of a friendship forming, tentative and fragile but founded in a mutual hope and love for a stubborn, red-headed Highlander.

After a full day of touring the grounds and going pint for pint with Ian in the cellar, Jamie and Claire stumbled up the stairs towards his bedroom. The palpable tension between them amplified throughout the night with subtle brushes of skin and stolen glances before finally shattering between them- the heat of his skin burning into hers.

With the door firmly closed behind her, his hands searched her clothing, pulling at the base of her blouse in search of skin. His lips were on her skin, furiously nipping and sucking her flesh from her collarbone to the curve of her chin. Her breath was heavy in his ear as her fingers fumbled with his belt, greedy in their conquest. Her feet stumbled against his and her weight pushed them back onto the bed. A deep rumble escaped from his chest as his eyes pierced hers, dark with need. His hands cupped her face and drew her mouth to his, the feel of his tongue hot and wet against hers.

As her fingers freed him of his belt and worked on the zipper to his pants, she heard the faint buzz of her phone against the wood side table. She paused and exhaled sharply.

“Dinna get that… not now.” His words spilled into her mouth between breaths and she pressed herself into him, her knees pulling up to her sides to straddle him.

She lifted herself just high enough to free herself of her blouse when the phone buzzed again.

“For fuck’s sake…” he growled as he sat up to meet her, his lips hungry against the swell of her breasts as her chest heaved against her bra. “Who could need to talk… right now?”

She moaned at the sensation of his stubble against her skin. His hands dug into her hips and lifted her slightly as he twisted to lay on top of her. A final buzz of the phone forced a snarl from his lips as he grabbed the phone to silence it. His face froze as he saw the name on the screen.

“Jamie…” Eyes wide, she looked from his face to the phone and back again. “Who is it?”

Without a word he turned the phone, so she could see: Uncle Lamb.

In one swift moment she sat up and grabbed it, fumbling with the screen before finally accepting the call.

Jamie

The next few moments were a blur. The heat between them had cooled as the tone of her voice shifted- now alert and focused.

Boston. Family estate matters. Uncle Lamb needs me.

She moved around the room with a ruthless efficiency, fingers expertly folding and tucking her belongings into her suitcase. Whirling around with a final scan of the room, her eyes stopped when they reached him, still seated quietly on the bed- eyes cast downward.

“I’m sorry Jamie... I have to go.”

“There’s nothin’ to be sorry about, lass,” he said quietly, but he mustered a small smile as he met her gaze, “I’ll drive ye to the airport, see ye safe.”

She stepped forward, her knees grazing his as she stood in front of him. His hands slowly found her waist and pulled her down to straddle him. Gone was the passion of moments ago, now he held her there as a silent beacon, an anchor to tether them together for a moment longer. “Just promise me ye’ll come back, aye?”

A crease formed between her eyebrows; she nodded as she lowered her head to kiss him, soft, tender.

“And…” he whispered against her lips as his voice lowered, “promise me we’re no’ done with this.”

#stay fic #outlander #fan fic #outlander fan fic #jamie x claire #the writers block is over #...for now #there might be typos #my eyes have almost crossed from reading it so many times

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