Chemistry Test, Part 9: Eating Out, Part 1
Lallybroch Library Prompt Exchange!
Prompt #33 Modern AU: Claire auditions for a role opposite Jamie who has been cast as the male lead in a TV drama.
Previously–Part 8: C***-Blocker
Master Post
“There they were, half nekkid, appendages flailing, wrapping themselves around each other and sucking on each other like two wild octopi!”
Jamie had already dreaded taking Murtagh out to lunch with Claire but in his wildest dreams he could not have thought this nightmare up— Murtagh regaling Claire with tales of once walking in on Jamie’s virginal experimentations with that blonde succubus, Laoghaire.
“And then when I’d been standing there for fully a minute,” Murtagh crowed with laughter, tears of mirth filling his eyes, “Jamie suddenly realizes I’m there, scrapes her off his lap and sits there meekly, as if they still had their shirts on, as if her bra wasna draped over the back of the couch and as if he wasna pitching a massive tent in his athletic shorts.” Murtagh giggled. “You could have housed an entire Scot Scout troop in there!”
Jamie peeked over at Claire. While she was laughing along with Murtagh, in his experience he had found that few women wished to think of their partners with other girls.
“I agree Laoghaire was a dubious choice for a first girlfriend,” Jamie added. “Though I had to practice on someone, did I not?”
“Aye, lad,” Murtagh mused. “But I’m not sure if you wouldna ha’ been better off startin’ out with some other filly instead.”
Jamie sighed and shook his head. Honestly, he had very fond memories of Laoghaire’s body. What young man wouldn’t feel that way about their first pair of breasts? Laoghaire was just a little plump… and that meant she’d been soft. Soft and round, making Jamie delight in the perfect fit of her in his hands.
When she’d pulled him aside at his sixteenth birthday party, in the midst of cake and drinks and loud music and dancing teenagers, telling him she had a present for him but he needed to find a quiet place for her to give it to him, he hadn’t realized the gift would involve nudity and his first blow job. If he had, he might not have kept putting her off all evening.
She was a clinger, and he’d never really connected with her as a person. Laoghaire always managed to talk without being real, to communicate without truly saying anything. And she struck him as the kind of girl that if you showed her even a modicum of interest, you’d never be able to shake her.
That night he’d finally determined to just choose a place and time so that she’d stop following him like a depressed little lap dog. When they retreated to his bedroom, she latched the door, pulled her top off over her head, and stood in front of him in her bra, her skin covered with gooseflesh. She’d taken his hand and placed it on her breast. Even though the lass couldn't communicate her thoughts, there was no lack of clarity there…
When Murtagh had walked in on them, it was another time, shortly after the party, when Laoghaire had just as clearly let him know that he could HAVE her. He had been so excited, so ready...
“Thinking happy thoughts?” Claire joked as she peered at Jamie’s face. “It didn’t destroy your memory for Murtagh to walk in on you?”
Fuck! Jamie thought. Why am I wasting a moment’s thought about Laoghaire? I didn’t love her and I never have.
“Christ, Lass, I was so confused after that. So turned on, so terrified. It was years before I brought another girl home.”
“But once he got over it, there were times I wondered whether he perchance got a bit of an adrenaline rush from being walked in on,” Murtagh mused. “That maybe he was bringing them home when he knew I would be arriving shortly on purpose.”
Jamie glared at him. Now Murtagh really had gone too far. But what could he say in front of Claire?
They’d found a little bistro, sharing the roasted baby artichokes with artisan breads for starters, followed by massive salads made with greens from the garden prominently displayed in what had one been a vacant lot next door. Claire had gone with the roasted beet and goat cheese, whilst Jamie had increased the protein quotient of his meal by choosing the steak salad. And Murtagh—after gnawing through his share of the baby artichokes—had declared that he’d had more than his share of ‘green stuff’ for the day, and had ordered and consumed a massive grass-fed beef burger on brioche, hold the lettuce and tomato.
“Vegetables,” he declared confidently, “Are what my food eats!”
As the meal had gone by, Jamie had felt less and less certain that he would be able to be alone with Claire and yet more and more desperate to be with her. He thought on a few occasions that the wistful glances Claire sent in his direction telegraphed desire for him as well, though he wasn’t certain.
He subtly stroked her leg, then, and she shivered. Claire squeezed his hand under the table. When Jamie met her eyes, she smiled understandingly.
“Well, Murtagh,” she said, “It’s been delightful running into you, but Jamie and I were supposed to meet with… Rupert MacKenzie and his head writer Geillis Duncan.”
There was no such appointment. Jamie did his best to act nonchalant, as if he’d known of this item on their agenda all along, not just for the last ten seconds.
“Shall we take a taxi?” he asked. “Or is Rupert Mac sending a car?”
“I’ll call him,” she said, standing and excusing herself, after pulling a twenty and a five out of her wallet and laying them on the table.
“Now, Jamie, ye willna let the lassie pay, will ye?” Murtagh asked, once Claire had stepped over towards the garden. The two men watched as she went under the hops-covered trellis at the garden entrance and meandered through the garden on the narrow paths of white gravel.
“She is lovely, that one,” murmured Murtagh.
“Well, ye wouldn’t think it for how good a job you’re doing convincing her I'm a faithless lecher and a heartless beast,” Jamie grumbled. “Seriously, Murtagh, it’s as if you’ve decided that if you have to be celibate, well then everyone else has to be as well!”
“You know I’m quite aware you dinna actually have an appointment, don’t you?” Murtagh grinned cheekily. “So you can thank me for whatever plans the lass is making as we speak.”
“You bastard,” Jamie groaned, shaking his head.
“Do ye have protection?” his godfather asked.
“Are you kidding me?” Jamie responded. “How old do you think I am?”
“Has nothing to do with your age, wee man,” Murtagh said, looking at him from beneath bushy eyebrows, wiping ketchup from his beard as he spoke. “Has more to do with the loudness of your cock talking versus the volume of your wisdom… And if I’m gauging correctly…” He paused and shook his head as he watched Jamie staring at Claire. “Well, I’m quite certain which is currently in the lead.”
“Hush!” Jamie hissed, seeing Claire approaching towards them. “My cock may be loud, but you yourself ken the Boy Scout motto is “always be prepared!”
Next up: Part 10 - Interruptions