It’s all fun and games until your boyfriend starts beating the shit out of someone.
“You know I’m okay right?” Tyler murmurs, staring through half lidded eyes at the TV screen in the med room. To his right there’s a big huff of air and Tyler smiles.
He blindly reaches out a hand and pats Jamie’s arm. “It’s alright, you sure showed the big bad man who’s boss.”
Jamie grumbles something under his breath, and Tyler smiles again, letting his eyes close under a nice wave of pain medication. He’s not concussed, at least, so that’s nice. However his wrist, which took the brunt of the impact and protected his head, is...less than okay.
It isn’t like there’s a big rivalry between St. Louis and Dallas, but Jamie always always in like he’s going to beat them if it’s the last thing he does.
Tyler doesn’t like St. Louis because they talk shit all night.
Specifically about him.
Specifically about him and Jamie.
It’s hard to calm down his captain when he’s just as angry.
The whistle is blown while Tyler’s still in the air.
He doesn’t know who hit him, can’t even spare the thought. His left arm shoots out on instinct as the ice suddenly fills his vision, and he’s got a split second to hope this doesn’t end him before he slams into the ice and slides into the boards.
His vision tunnels for a few seconds and spots dance in front of him, but then he’s back, staring up in a daze at the linesman who’s appeared above him. There’s players close to him then suddenly no where near him. There’s a loud yell - almost a roar, it’s so loud and so angry - and Tyler’s sitting up, cradling his smarting wrist to his chest, watching with wide eyes as Jamie’s clenched fist slams into the jaw of a Blues player. Possibly the one who hit him - well hopefully the one who hit him.
Jamie’s helmet is off, his hair flying around as his lands a punch of his own. His face is twisted in a mass of pure, undiluted rage, and the blues player stands no chance.
They go down in a heap, sticks are clacked against the ice, and suddenly there’s a trainer in front of him, blocking his view.
The trainer looks worried. Tyler laughs, and it sounds weird to his ears. “He was mad.”
The trainer looks at him with grim worry, feeling around his arm. “You didn’t see that hit.”
“You’re going back out there right?” He mumbles sometime later, not sure how long it’s been but certain it’s been past the allotted time Jamie was supposed to serve.
A soft laugh greats him along with a hand going through his hair. “I already did.” Jamie tells him, and he seems so much calmer now that Tyler opens his eyes in surprise.
“Why’d you change?”
Jamie smiles again. “Games over Seggy.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah bud.”
He smiles, cheeky. “You break any one elses’ face, or did Monty keep you in time out on the bench.”
Jamie rolls his eyes. “You’re hilarious.”
“You love me.” He says smugly. Jamie sighs, pretending to be annoyed, but he leans down to kiss him anyway.
Tyler's whole life, he’s expected that he wouldn’t get to be with his soulmate. He had great power, and that came with sacrifices; the sacrifice of his soulmate not least among them. It was what was done. It was what had always been expected of him. He was a prince, and this is what he owed.
For the @bennguinfest prompt: soulmate royalty/bodyguard AU.
Good Evening all, Here is Chapter 5. We finally make it to Boston. Yay! Do you think things go smoothly now? NAW not for these two!
I hope you enjoy reading this. Any comments, thoughts or questions are always welcomed.
My deepest thanks again to @curlsgetdemgurls and @jmoonrise for being my betas.
I give you:
Edinburgh to Boston
Chapter 5
The Hotel
The jet was pelted with ice crystals and blinding snow. The ice made pinging and clunking sounds as it struck the fuselage of the jet. Claire looked out the window trying to see any recognizable landmark as they approached Boston. It was impossible to see anything through the window at this point because of the snow and ice. High winds were buffeting the jet around as if it was a toy in the hands of a malevolent child tossing it around whilst making screeching, whistling, and booming sounds akin to a plane crashing.
Claire thought that if she ever had a child, she would never allow the child to play with a plane after this experience.
Her nerves were on edge. Claire began to chew her bottom lip, a nervous habit she did whenever she was worried. The jet made a sudden lurch and precipitously dropped. One hand grasped onto the armrest tightly making her knuckles turn white whilst the other hand sought out James.
James was doing his best to keep an outward appearance of calm. Claire knew this was strictly for her benefit. However, Claire could see that faint line forming in the space right between his eyebrows. That wrinkle showed up whenever James concentrated or when a situation became too intense. She had become familiar this line from their work together in the operating room. It forms every time they reached a critical point during heart surgery.
James realized Claire was watching him, and had noticed his telltale sign of concern written all over his face. He carefully schooled his features effectively hiding his worry.
"Dinna fash, Beauchamp, it will be alright." he said with a genuine smile as he grasped her hand tightly.
"I'm glad you think so," Claire snarked with a hint of doubt in her voice.
Shudder, shake, vibrate. It felt like the jet was coming apart at the seams.
"James!" Claire exclaimed; her eyes wide with fright.
James saw how frightened Claire was. He continued holding her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand in small comforting circles. He continued engaging her with story after story trying to focus her attention on something other than the chaos that was happening around them.
"James?" Claire asked looking up into his face earnestly.
"What is it Beauchamp?"
"James," Claire whispered. "In case the plane does, well you know, I ah, I... I just wanted you to know that, that, I love you." The last three words were barely audible. Her golden whisky eyes sparkled with love for him. Claire put her head on his shoulder and said no more.
James heard her soft admission of love. To him, it was loud. It was louder than the racket an entire herd of trumpeting stampeding elephants could make trampling over the earth destroying everything in their wake.
She loves me, she loves me! Weel, better late than never, he reckoned. At least he finally knew after all this time.
"I love ye too, Claire." A broad smile graced his beautiful face. He placed his head on top of hers contented.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain. We are in descent to Logan. I have been told that the ground crew is working diligently to keep to the runway clear of ice, snow, and slush. Stay in your seats, keep your seat belts on and be ready for a bumpy ride. We will be landing shortly."
With her admission of love, the fear Claire felt disappeared leaving behind a feeling of tranquility. The feeling expanded when he confessed his own love for her. She knew everything would be alright, and if not, at least they were together like her parents were.
The landing gear engaged. The jet touched down with a bounce and a wobble. As predicted, the landing was very bumpy even on the longer runway necessary for this type of landing. At times, it almost felt like they were going to crash into the airport itself. Finally, the jet rolled to a halt. The passengers released a collective sigh of relief as the nightmare was finally over.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at Logan Airport in Boston. We hope you enjoyed your flight. I need a stiff drink and a change of underwear. I am sure you all do too. Let’s all get cleaned up and I'll meet you in the bar. That is all."
The passengers all cheered for their Captain and agreed that a drink was definitely in order.
"Come on, Claire. Let's get out of here before we canna. We need to find a taxi, or we will be stuck in the airport all the night. We can have a drink when we get settled at the hotel," James said lifting his eyebrows at her. Claire nodded in agreement.
As they stood, each craned their necks looking for Harry and Maizie, concern for the elderly couple etched on their faces. Harry, now with his hat askew and Maizie with her hair jutting out much like a porcupine were otherwise none the worse for wear. Both James and Claire, in turn, surreptitiously waved good-bye to the older couple relieved that they appeared to be alright.
James and Claire collected their belongings as quickly as possible and deplaned without a moment's hesitation.
****************
A genial gentleman dressed in chauffeur attire was waiting at the arrival gate for them. He was carrying a portfolio of some type to which he was frequently referring.
He stepped forward asking in a polished Bostonian accent, "Dr. Beauchamp, Dr. Fraser?"
"Aye, we are Doctors Beauchamp and Fraser. Might I ask who ye are?"
"I am Padrick Donoghue, your chauffeur from the Georges X hotel. I was concerned that your flight might have been diverted due to the storm. I am relieved that was not the case. May I assist you with your luggage doctors? If you will follow me your car awaits."
James and Claire looked at each other. This was not normal. Not at all. Georges X is a five-star hotel known for its, ahem, discretion. And very expensive. Not the usual accommodations for physicians on a conference. Who made these reservations and was it really for them? But tonight, well tonight any port in a storm would do.
A luxury Lexus SUV was awaiting James and Claire.
Padrick entertained them with stories of Boston and what they could do with any spare time.
"Padrick, I am very familiar with the area. I went to Harvard Medical School and did my residency here. Unfortunately, Dr. Fraser and I need to return to Scotland as soon as the conference is over. It is lovely to remember all the places I enjoyed going to whilst living here."
"Well, it's a home coming for you then Dr. Beauchamp."
"You could say so."
Claire’s mind drifted away from Padrick's idle chatter. All she could think about was a hot bath and sleep. It had been a long, strange day.
*************
The drive to the hotel was a short distance from the airport and upon arrival Claire and James entered the grand lobby. The lobby was tastefully done in contemporary furnishings of black, grey, camel, and white. A welcoming fire was blazing in the lobby fireplace. A beautiful ornate glass elevator, the centerpiece of the lobby, would whisk guests away to their rooms.
"I'll check us in Beauchamp. Why don't ye make yerself comfortable while I take care of it?"
Claire walked over to examine the violet phalaenopsis orchids that decorated the lobby, when she suddenly heard James' voice raised in agitation. He was leaning over the desk, coming eye-to-eye with the clerk. This was not good. Claire came over to see what was wrong. What she found was her normally good-natured partner turning a brilliant shade of red. He was speaking through clenched teeth with his eyes narrowed menacingly.
"Fraser, what's happened?" Claire queried.
James grabbed Claire by the upper arm and pulled her away from the desk.
"Beauchamp, there has been a mix-up. We are listed as doctors Beauchamp and Fraser, a husband and wife surgical team. There is only one room for us to share. And because of the storm, there isna another room available here or anywhere."
He was quite distressed at this. Truthfully, so was Claire. The prospect of sharing a room with James, while not an unpleasant idea, was not in her plans. Right now all Claire wanted to do was get some sleep.
“Beauchamp, there is only one bed. There are nay cots available. There is nay couch in the room. This is different situation altogether and ye ken it. This is no’ going to work,” he replied angrily.
“Fraser, it will be alright. We have shared the on-call room many nights while we were working. We can share a room tonight. Tomorrow we can see about making other arrangements.”
“Are ye daft woman?! What if one of your colleagues or friends from Boston sees ye here going into a room with a man that is no’ yer husband? What will they think?” James’ eyes narrowed to blue slits. He slowly turned his head, surveying the lobby for any possibility of a threat, real or imagined, to Claire’s virtue. Satisfied that no one was going to jump out and spray paint a scarlet letter A on Claire’s bosom, James returned his gaze to Claire.
James began to ruffle his fingers through his hair making it stand up on end, “Christ, Beauchamp, think of yer reputation woman! I’ll not have people thinking ye a wanton. I’ll nae risk it!” James was visibly distressed and hellbent on protecting Claire’s reputation and honor. He continued mumbling in Gàidhlig about tainting her reputation as a woman.
Claire gaped at him in shock.
“James,” she said very quietly through her teeth, “first of all, how would anyone know you are not my husband, hmm? Secondly, this is not the 18th century, for god’s sake; it’s the 21st century! No one will think anything of it. Besides, look,” she pointed to the desk where there was a sign that said, The Essence of Discretion. Perhaps the hotel was a trysting place for the rich and famous.
“I wouldn’t worry.”
“Aye, weel I dinna like it anyway. I’ll sleep down here, if ye dinna mind.”
“James,” Claire’s yellow tiger’s eyes narrowed glinting dangerously, “I am tired. In fact, I am exhausted. We had a horrible flight. We almost died. I want to take a bath, perhaps have a drink, and go to sleep, in that order. And I am not leaving you down here. Get your bag and get a move on. NOW.”
Claire turned on her heel, grabbed her suitcase, took the card key from the clerk, and marched toward the elevator.
“MOVE IT, Fraser,” she said without so much as a glance over her shoulder to see if he was following her.
James knew she was not to be trifled with. He had seen her in this type of mood before when a cardiac surgery fellow made a mistake whilst taking care of one of her patients. Claire had swallowed the fellow whole, spit out his bones, and used them to pick her teeth. Claire could be formidable when necessary. She was a true force of nature like a hurricane or an earthquake. James loved her like that. This was not a meek and obedient woman. Claire was a true match for him; if she would let him get a word in edgewise.
He quickly grabbed his bag and followed behind her. He had another bit of bad news still to deliver.
While standing in the elevator, James cleared his throat and place his hands protectively over his bollocks.
“UMM, Beauchamp?”
“Yes, Fraser, what is it?” Claire asked tiredly.
“I have another thing to tell ye.”
“Yes?”
“Theycancelledtheconference.” James told her all in one breath. “The speakers couldna make it in from Texas because of the storm.” He stood there waiting for the fallout.
Claire looked at him her lips twitching somewhere between exasperation and hysterics. Her eyes glazed over and she began to laugh hysterically.
“Could this trip get any worse?”
James was relieved that Claire was not going to have a melt down on the elevator.
“Weel, Beauchamp, let’s look at this way. We could do with a bit a vacation, do ye no think? The clerk said that everything is all paid for. So maybe we should just try to enjoy it. Maybe ye could show me around Boston, hmm? My own personal tour guide” he said trying to wink at Claire. Instead, he looked like a large red sleepy owl blinking its eyes.
