Happy Monday! How is the little ‘Lovers’ family prepping for Christmas?!
It’s no longer Monday,but happy day to you, nonetheless! Thank you for the message :) In their world (I’m slightly embarrassed to say) it’s still the day after Thanksgiving. BUT, because y’all are the best readers ever and have been waiting so patiently for an update, I’m not spoiling anything when I tell you that Jamie is knitting Claire a little something for their first Christmas as a (secret) couple...what could it beeeee?
Tell me the one fic you associate with my username. In exchange, I’ll tell you a secret about that story.
Haha, not yet - so thanks for asking!
Let’s see...a few things come to mind:
The title for the story on AO3, “Let Us Not Talk Falsely Now,” is a lyric from “All Along The Watchtower”. Jimi Hendrix’s version is considered to be iconic of the Vietnam era. With the double meaning that, when Jamie can only speak Gaelic to Claire - she can’t understand what he is saying, but he (and we) know that he only speaks the truth to her. And, Jamie and Claire hear this song at several pivotal points in the story.
This was the first story I truly researched - the geography (the Chu Lai hospital was a real place), the military culture, what was and wasn’t possible at field hospitals.
I learned a LOT when writing this story - how to research, how to plan ahead, how to write at my own pace and not based on readers clamoring for more (not that I didn’t appreciate the positive feedback!)
Had Claire not come back to Jamie, I think he would have become the stereotypical, emotionally damaged Vietnam vet we’ve seen too many times. He is only able to truly heal his scars from Chu Lai with Claire at his side. Much like how, had Claire gone through the stones that first time Jamie brought her to Craigh Na Dun, he likely would have just faded away into the Highlands, and never fulfilled his vocation to be a laird.
MG Jamie and Claire on their second flight together, reminiscing about the first and considering what’s changed for them
Modern Glasgow AU
----
“Here we are!” Claire swung her backpack down into thewindow seat. Jamie took her coat and set it next to his in the overhead bin,before folding his long legs into his aisle seat.
Claire plopped into her own seat, rummaging through herbackpack. “I swear that these budget carriers don’t even know what legroom is.”
“It’s all right.” Jamie winced as a boisterous little boycareened down the aisle and crashed into his knee. “It’s a short flight. I’drather this than the train – it means we can enjoy our time there even more.”
Setting a thick textbook on her lap, Claire pushed herbackpack beneath the seat in front of her, then squeezed her husband’s hand. “Iknow it’s really just a long weekend, Jamie, but – ”
“But it’s our second anniversary, and I’m just thankfulto have the time wi’ ye.” He raised her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. “Icanna believe ye’ve never been to Cardiff.”
“And when would I have gone?” She leaned a bit closeracross the ridiculously skinny armrest.
He shrugged, twisting his broad shoulders toward her –and away from the people streaming down the aisle. “Did ye ken that the Welsh languageis verra similar to the Gaidhlig? Icanna understand it, mind – but it’s all related.”
“Bloody Celts, the lot of you,” she teased. “Though fromwhat I recall, there never has truly been a proper independence movement, atleast in modern times. Unlike their cousins to the northeast.”
“I’m sure they have their reasons. And I canna wait tolearn all about them.” He leaned closer, kissed her sweetly.
She pulled back after a while, smiling. “Do you rememberthe last time we were on an aeroplane together?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Of course I do. I endedup sitting next to this absolutely gorgeous English lass. She ordered blackcoffee, and I was gravely injured by it when the numpty of a stewardess pouredit all down my back.”
“Hmm.” She squeezed his hands. “Sounds like an eventfulflight.”
He nuzzled the underside of her chin. “Ye could say that.I took her home wi’ me. And she never left. Even after I introduced her to mygrump of a godfather.”
Her pulse raced. He bit it. Her hands dug into hiswrists. He pulled back just enough to find her lips. Give her a proper kiss.
“I fell in love wi’ her before we landed,” he breathedagainst her lips, smiling as her hot breath came short and fast.
“You must have swept her off her feet.” God, she wantedto be alone with him.
He pulled back a bit more – meeting her eyes. Lord, shewas so beautiful. “I like to think that we were what each other was looking for– but thought we would never find.”
Her eyes filled with happy tears. Her right hand cuppedhis cheek. He turned to kiss her palm – to kiss the J tattooed at the base ofher thumb.
“That’s why I insisted on these cramped two seats. I didnawant to risk the three-seater – I wanted no chance of her sitting next tosomeone else.”
She could only shake her head, and draw him close, andkiss him with all her might, heedless of the judgmental businessmen and tiredmothers and gaping children all around.
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.
Good evening all, Here is Chapter 6. I think that many of you will be expecting something else in this chapter. Sorry to disappoint, but certain things needed to be said first.
I hope you enjoy reading this. Any comments, thoughts or questions are always welcomed.
I also want to say that I am concerned for the next chapter as it is really long, well for me it is. And, I want to do it right with the story as it is important to me to not disappoint the readers, to J & C. I am just worried that I may not have it done by next Sunday. I will really try my best to make it happen, but I don’t want to short change anyone. Once again I ask for your indulgence. But I’m going to try.
My deepest thanks again to @curlsgetdemgurls and @jmoonrise for being my betas. You both are the best.
I give you:
Edinburgh To Boston
The Truth
Chapter 6
James took the key card from Claire and opened the door allowing her to enter.
The room was beautiful. It was decorated tastefully in creams, taupe, and espresso. The wide expansive window would have provided a breathtaking view of the Boston skyline if it were not for the blizzard raging outside.
There was a gas fireplace providing a warm and welcoming glow in the room.
To the far side of the room was a workspace with a desk, chair, and a lamp was available. There was a well stocked bar in the room with premium liquor. A bottle of Dom Pérignon champagne sat chilling in a bucket of ice. By the window was a highly polished cherry wood table with two barrel-backed chairs that were deeply tufted and thickly cushioned in buttery leather which could be used as seating for dining.
A bowl of red ripe juicy strawberries, some plain others enrobed in chocolate, sat on the table waiting to be nibbled. The hotel’s trademark violet orchids sat on each of the bedside tables. The bed was a huge modern four-poster king-size bed that was the focal point of the room. It was a delicious confection dressed in crisp white Egyptian linen that felt silky to the touch. Topping the bed were two cream colored cashmere throws with GX emblazoned in the center. The throws were luxurious, so soft and light. Claire ran a hand over a throw, and she thought it felt like she was touching a cloud. The room was the height of luxury.
Claire looked longingly at the bed and thought that she could sleep on the bed forever.
James removed his overcoat and jacket, took Claire’s overcoat as well and hung them in the closet. He headed straight to the bar and found a bottle of Glenfiddich single malt whisky and poured himself a generous dram, downing it in one swallow. He poured himself a second dram and one for Claire handing her the cut crystal glass.
“To us, sláinte,” James said raising his glass to Claire.
Claire raised her glass to him in salute, “Sláinte.”
Claire sipped at her whisky savoring the flavor and the burn. It warmed her through.
She was more than aware that he was tracking her every move in the room.
Finally, James spoke softly and tenderly, “Claire, we needta talk.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Claire bowed her head in contemplation, studying the depths of the glass she held as if it possessed all the answers to all the mysteries of the world.
She took off her knee-high boots, sat down on the bed patting the other side indicating that James should come and sit next to her.
“Oh, and bring the whisky. I think we’ll need some liquid courage for this conversation.”
“Aye, I think ye’re right,” James nodded in agreement.
James removed his shoes, took off his tie and opened the collar button. Claire could see James’ red gold chest hair peeking out from under his shirt. He handed Claire the bottle of whisky then made himself comfortable next to her.
They sat there sipping their drink in companionable silence for what could have been seconds, minutes, or hours each lost in their own thoughts.
Eventually, James turned to look at Claire and broke the silence between them.
“Claire, I need the truth. When ye said ye loved me on the plane, did ye mean it or, or did ye only say it because ye thought we would die?”
“It’s the truth you want is it, Fraser?” she asked raising one eyebrow giving him a hard look.
James grinned, “Claire, don’t ye think ‘tis time ye call me Jamie?”
Claire chuckled, “Considering the position we find ourselves in, I guess you’re right... Jamie.”
“It’s the truth you want, Jamie?” Claire asked questionly.
Jamie nodded his head.
“Then it’s the truth you shall have. Both. It was the fear that we would die that gave me the courage to finally admit my feelings to myself and to you. I did not want to die without telling you how I felt about you.” Claire raised her glass and took a long sip of the whisky.
“How long Claire, how long did ye ken it?” His demeanor was serious. He needed to know.
“Since we met, well not long after we met really.” Claire kept her gaze averted from him. She could not face him. Her face began to flush from shame from her lack of honesty with him.
Jamie got up and began to pace in the room in frustration. “All this time Claire and ye didna have the nerve to tell me! Look at all the time we lost. Did ye think me a brute maybe because of my size that maybe ye were afraid of me?”
Claire looked shocked at this. She rose from the bed and came to him, “Oh no, Jamie not at all! I think you’re the best man ever. That’s why I never said anything. I come with too much baggage. Why would a man like you want someone like me? Everyone in my life leaves me or betrays me. Why would you want someone no one else wants?”
Claire walked over to the window and stared out onto the frozen landscape. A single tear ran down the side of her face.
Jamie stopped in his tracks. He stood stock still staring at her in utter disbelief.
“Not want ye, not want ye!?” He was thunderstruck at her assertion.
Two of Jamie’s fingers began to beat a restless tattoo against his leg.
“God Claire, I have wanted ye since the moment I laid eyes on ye, did ye ken that?” He closed the distance between them in three strides. He placed his arms around her waist, dropping his chin onto her shoulder.
“But, do ye ken when I knew that I loved ye? It happened not long after that. Do ye remember the night that we lost wee Adelaide MacGregor ‘cause we couldna get a heart to transplant for her?”
Claire turned to face Jamie and nodded in assent.
“That night as I held ye in my arms when ye cried, I kent that I loved ye. I kent I would be yers forever, whether ye wanted me or no’. How could ye think I’d no’ want ye? Ye’re bright, intelligent, kind, tenderhearted, and sae, sae beautiful. Of course, I would want ye! Any man in his right mind would.”
“Not every man would,” Claire said bitterly.
He was scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he paced around the room again. He was growing more distressed with each passing second.
“She has been hurt laddie, be gentle with her.”
Jamie took a deep steadying breath, turned and returned to Claire’s side. He pulled her into his embrace wrapping his arms tightly around her. Jamie made a small noise almost like a sob.
“I’ll ask yer forgiveness, Claire. I shouldna have spoken to ye so harshly. I dinna have the courage to admit it to myself either. I dinna think ye would want a man such as me.”
He let go of her, took two steps back, his head lowered to his chest.
“I carry around baggage too, Claire. I thought if ye kent about me, ye wouldna want me.”
Claire was quite taken aback by his statement. What kind of baggage could this beautiful man be carrying around that would make him think he is unlovable she wondered?
Jamie strode over to the fireplace and stared into the flames. Claire came to him resting her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’m here for you, Jamie. You’re not alone.” Claire placed a small chaste kiss on the side of his neck.
“Thank ye, Claire.” He broke the embrace, turned to face her and kissed her on the forehead. “As I am for ye.”
“Jamie, obviously we both have pasts that we have issues with. I think that in order to give whatever this is between us a chance, we need to be open and honest with each other. Don’t you agree?”
“Aye, Claire, I do. I dinna want to push ye to tell me anything ye feel ye canna, but we need to have a truth between us. We can have secrets but no’ lies. Now, who shall go first ye or me? We need to remember that a burden shared is a burden carried.”
“I’ll go first.” Claire refilled her glass with whisky, took a fortifying drink, and began.
“My father had his own jet that he used for business. My mother and I often accompanied him wherever he needed to travel for business. One day in late October we were returning home to London. A great storm suddenly rose up around us. The sky was ablaze with lightning and the air was filled with the crash of thunder all around us. There was a reek of ozone about us. A blinding downpour began to pound the plane. The turbulence caused the plane to begin to shake and rock. I was so frightened. I remember whimpering and clinging to my mother.”
“Despite trying everything he could, Papa lost control over the jet. My father radioed the tower that he had lost instruments, control of the jet, and gave our location. He held me, kissed me, and told me he loved me. Then my mother cuddled me into her body using her body to protect me from injury. She told me to always remember them and to know they would always be with me wherever I was. The jet crashed and I survived while my parents died. I was only five years old.”
James was visibly moved by her story. Tears rimmed his eyes. He reached out grasped Claire’s small hands in his larger ones and placed them over his heart hoping that the steady beat would soothe her. Tenderly, he placed a kiss on her forehead. Now I ken why she is afraid of turbulence.
“I am sae, sae sorry, Claire. I didna ken.”
Claire leaned into his chest drawing strength from his solid presence, nodded her head and continued her story.
“My Uncle Lambert, Lamb as I called him, became my legal guardian. We traveled the world together. He was an eminent archeologist. My life was quite unconventional. Going from one dig to another in different parts of the world. In the evenings, I was tutored by Lamb. I didn’t really have friends growing up. Childhood was quite different for me than what most children experience. I don’t regret it, but there were times I wished for a normal life like everyone else.” Claire shrugged at that thought.
“Eventually, Lamb settled in Oxford to teach. There he met a young doctoral student studying history. His dissertation was on the ‘45 Rebellion. Frank Randall is his name. They became friends and eventually, Frank courted me. I was all of 19 at the time. Frank was 10 years my senior. He was rather dashing and handsome. Lamb approved of him. So when Frank asked me to marry him, I did. That was a mistake. Frank did not love me. He used me to further his career through his association with Lamb. Frank had a mistress all while he courted me. He was with her even on our wedding night before he came to me.”
Claire stopped in the telling of the story, took a deep breath to compose herself then continued in a halting voice.
“I found out about his mistresses, there were more than one by the way, by accident. Frank kept a locked box that he said contained important research documents. One day I was reaching for something in the closet, it fell and opened. In it were love letters from all of his mistresses.”
Tears began to run down Claire’s face, hot and heavy. Claire turned her head away from Jamie as if to hide her shame. Instead, Jamie pulled her tightly to him, cradling her against his chest. He cupped her cheeks lifting her face up toward him. His thumbs gently wiped away her tears. “Dinna hide yer face mo ghràdh, ye have nothing to be ashamed of. He does.”
Claire’s eyes glistened with tears; she nodded wondering what she did to deserve to be in the arms of a man such as Jamie.
“I read them. When I confronted him with the evidence, he laughed at me. He admitted the whole thing. He told me he never loved me and all I was good for was a good fuck. I slapped him, grabbed my purse, and went to see Lamb. Naturally, I told Lamb what happened. Lamb became despondent. He felt responsible as he encouraged the match. He refused to eat, slept poorly, and would not take his blood pressure medication. Lamb died of a stroke three months later. Of course, I divorced Frank. And then I was truly alone.”
Tears streamed down Claire’s face. Large, hot, angry tears. She sobbed and clung to Jamie, shaking with the remembered pain and humiliation.
Jamie hugged her fiercely to his chest, running his hand soothingly over her back. “Hush a nighean, hush. I’m here.” Jamie uttered words in Gàidhlig which sounded nonsensical to Claire, but the words and his voice calmed her. As Claire began to still he placed two fingers under her chin raising her face to him and kissed away her tears.
“Claire, where is yon man, yer ex-husband, now?” Jamie spoke to her tenderly all while he was seething with fury. His eyes darkened becoming narrow slits. His hand opened and closed with the want to lash out, strike out at this poor excuse for a man and beat him within an inch of his life for what he did to her.
“I think he teaches here in Boston. Why?”
“If he ever has the misfortune of crossing my path, I shall beat him into a pudding.” He smiled with pleasure at the thought. He would avenge her.
“Dinna waste your tears, a leannan. He is not worthy of ye or yer tears. The man is a fool. I love ye and I always will.” He cuddled her close rocking her gently. He raised her face up and kissed her tenderly on the lips. When their lips parted, Jamie gave her a shy smile; his lip curling on one side.
Claire’s eyes opened wide in shock; her hand going to her lips. Her lips tingled from his kiss, and she felt a rush of blood through her body warming her. Claire realized that she had never experienced such closeness, warmth, tenderness, and safety as she did now while Jamie was holding her close to him. There was a sense of peace that washed over her. In Jamie’s arms, she was totally accepted for who she was. She found love in his arms.
“I’m sorry Claire if I was too forward. I dinna mean to… Ye seemed so upset. I just meant to offer ye some comfort.” Jamie said apologetically.
Claire looked into his clear blue eyes, reached up, grasping him by the nape of his neck, and brought his head down to hers. She soundly kissed him back. His lips were soft, tasting of whisky, and from the salt of her tears. It was everything she imagined it would be.
“That’s what you call being forward, Fraser.”
Jamie was completely nonplussed by her kiss and was rather flustered. “Where did ye learn to kiss like that, Claire?”
“I am not a nun, Fraser. I have kissed a few men and maybe an occasional frog in my life.”
Jamie was not sure how he felt after that. He wanted to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, put her on the bed, and take her. He stepped back, chest heaving, and with great effort collected himself.
Claire shyly smiled at Jamie, “I do believe it’s your turn now to tell your story.”
Claire sat by his side, taking his hand in hers as an offer of support waiting for him to begin.
“Some of my story is similar to yers. My mam was a visiting nurse, ye ken. She was going on a home visit to a new young mother and her bairn. The mother was no more than 18. My brother Willie needed to drive into Broch Morda to pick up some supplies my Da had ordered for the farm. So, Willie drove my Mam to her appointments that day. It was September and the beginning of the rutting season for the red deer. As Willie was driving along two huge stags ran out onto the road directly in front of the car. Willie swerved trying to avoid them but struck one of the stags. The car went off the road and into a ditch. Willie died instantly, while my Mam hung on for a week in a coma. She died eight days after the accident. I was fifteen at the time.”
Claire could feel the tremors running through Jamie’s body as he told her the story. She pulled him closer to her, gave his hand a squeeze letting him know she was there and as encouragement.
Jamie took a deep shuddering sigh and continued.
“Much like yer Uncle Lamb, my Da was overcome with grief from the two losses. He was no’ himself after their deaths. The following year, when I was 16, a group of lads and I were swimming in the pond by the gristmill. We were naked as jays,” he said with a smirk.
“The lads were roughhousing around, pushing and shoving. Someone pushed my friend Ian, and he fell into the pond too close to the water wheel. He got caught by the water wheel at the leg and was about to be dragged under. I heard Ian screaming and hollering. So, I jumped in after him and managed to free him. His leg was badly mangled. There was blood everywhere. I was trying to get out of the water but I lost my balance, and I was taken under. The water wheel paddles tore the skin from my back. The water was turning red from my blood too. Ian and I were rushed to the hospital. Ian lost his leg below the knee. I spent a long time in intensive care having surgery to close my back. Some grafts had to be placed ye ken. Some of the wounds had to be left to heal on their own."
Jamie let out a heavy sigh sounding like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“It was all too much for my Da after my Mam and Willie. Then I went and got injured, his now only son. When he came to the hospital and saw me, I was told he made a small sound, grabbed at his chest, and fell. He suffered a heart attack and died. To this day, I feel responsible for his death.”
Jamie whispered, “Claire, I killed my Da.”
He turned his head buried his face into Claire’s neck and sobbed like he was a child fresh with the grief from the loss of a parent and from years of repressed guilt.
Claire held him close, rubbing his back, uttering tender words that one would say to soothe a child.
“My back is scarred, Claire. ‘Tis grotesque. I’m afraid ye would think me a monster if ye saw it.”
Claire looked at him with a smile on her lips that went to her eyes.
“I sincerely doubt it, Jamie.”
“Ye didna think ye would be disgusted or repulsed by it, Claire?”
“No Jamie, I most certainly don’t think so. Your beauty lies in your heart, in your soul. A marred back cannot change that. It cannot change what I feel for you.”
They sat there holding each other, taking solace from each other.
“Jamie, you mustn't blame yourself for your father’s death. You were very brave to jump in after your friend and save his life. He would have died if not for you. I’m sure your father was very proud of his brave son.”
“Do ye think so, Claire?”
“Yes, I do. I think you were very brave, reckless maybe, but brave nonetheless.” She smiled. “Oh, Jamie how I do love you.”
Claire kissed him soundly on the mouth. They sat holding each other. Each giving comfort to the other and feeling safe within each other’s arms.
This is my first ever fanfic. I am so nervous and terrified about posting this, but here goes nothing. I want to thank LadyVioletHummingbird for her support and encouragement. Without it, this fanfic would not be here.
Just a wee bit of background about this story. I live in a suburb of NYC. This weekend it was predicted that there would be snow, turning to rain followed by freezing temperature, an arctic blast by Monday. The Mayor of my city sends out public service phone calls to the residents of the city with helpful information as to what to do for different emergencies. This led me to wonder what would happen if Jamie and Claire got such a call.
Please enjoy. Any constructive thoughts, comments would be appreciated. I give you:
A CALL FROM THE MAYOR
My phone rang disturbing the peace and quiet of the morning. Without a thought as to who would be calling, I unlocked the phone and mumbled a soft "Hullo?"
A smile broke out on my lips. "Why, yes. Of course, you are most certainly right. I will take every precaution. Thank you for calling." I ended the call and replaced my phone on the bedside table wanting nothing more than to snuggle down into my cozy bed and return to the land of Morpheus.
A large warm arm reached out and pulled me closer to an equally warm chest.
"Who was that, Sassenach?"
I turned to face the large Scot lying in bed with me, "Oh, just the mayor of the city is all."
"And, what did his honor want at this hour?" Jamie said in a low husky voice which I attributed to his just awakening. He began nuzzling and nipping at the tender skin of my neck. His hand moved from around my waist upwards over my ribs stopping to cup my breast, gently circling around my nipple causing it to raise, harden, and pebble beneath his expert touch.
"Ah,...well... mmmm." I was becoming distracted by his ministrations.
"Sassenach, ye were saying, hmmmm?" Jamie ran his tongue over a tender spot on my neck that he had bit then began to blow on the area to cool the sting of the bite. He pinched my nipple hard between his thumb and index finger causing me to squeak.
I shifted myself around so as to face him. His eyes, normally a beautiful clear deep blue much like the ocean, had become tempestuous, dark, and churning like waves in a hurricane. I could see the want in his eyes. The want for me.
Jamie's calloused hand slid down over the planes of my body in a quest to reach my arse. Upon arriving at the objet d'amour, he began to fondle, squeeze, and knead it almost to the point of pain. Slowly his hands rose over my back, almost reverentially, pulling me closer to him so as to meld our bodies together.
No beginning, no end.
His scent assailed me. Sleeping male, musk, and something uniquely just Jamie.
His breathing was slow, heavy, warm on my skin causing my breath to hitch.
He smiled at me wickedly. He was a predator and I his prey.
I felt the need for him building deep in my belly, an aching, wanting need. There was a growing wetness, slickness between my thighs. I knew I was lost.
He brought his lips to mine in a kiss that was ever so tender perhaps even best described as chaste which I found to be incongruous with his look and behavior.
"Mo ghraid, ye still havna told me what the mayor wanted." Jamie's hand slipped between my legs, feeling the warmth and wetness of me. My legs parted giving him the room he needed for access to the most intimate part of my body. His thumb had found my core. He stroked it lightly at first in a circular motion then began applying increasing pressure. One finger slowly stroked along my entrance, finally entering me. It was soon followed by another.
"He, ah, he, ah. Well, that is to say. Mmmmm. YES, just there. Oh god! Jamie don't stop."
"Give me yer mouth Sassenach" he growled.
And I did. He kissed me hard, hard enough to bruise. His tongue caressed my lips seeking entry. My lips opened to him; his tongue began the journey to seek out its quarry. His tongue began it duel with mine, thrust, and parry, swirling, probing, tasting. We broke apart only for the need for air.
I felt his warm mouth take my nipple one then the other and sucked it hard increasing the sensations coursing through my body. I could feel myself reaching my peak, coming closer, ever closer to the precipice. Trembling, I was trembling, writhing in ecstasy, grasping the linen of the bed. Breath uneven, mewling sounds, profanity graced my lips.
"Oh god, oh god! Jamie, I need ...I, I,... ahhhh."
"What do ye need lass, tell me, tell me what ye want. I want ye to feel good," he whispered as his teeth raked over the shell of my ear.
He left wet kisses trailing across my body; his eyes never leaving mine.
"I..I..you, I want you, now inside me. Jamie, please."
"Do ye now?" somewhere in the fog of my mind, I thought I heard him chuckle sounding rather pleased with himself.
He rose over me kneeing my legs further apart and in one swift movement entered me sheathing himself to the hilt. A sword and its scabbard. We were one and riding the waves of our pleasure together surging forward coming to an inexorable completion.
We lay sated and happy wrapped in each other's arms, limbs twined together. The glow of love around us. My head rested on his chest, moist from his exertions listening to his heartbeat, for me. I sighed contentedly and closed my eyes planning to return to sleep.
"Claire."
"Hmmm?" I purred contentedly.
"What did the mayor want?"
"Oh! He placed a public service call, telling the citizenry of the impending snow storm and what precautions they should take in case of things like power outages and downed trees. He also urged everyone who is not needed to stay home because of the ice that will accompany the snow. Roadways are expected to be treacherous. You know things like that."
"And ye thanked the recording for calling?" Jamie quirked a ruddy eyebrow and looked questioningly at me as if I had taken leave of all my senses.
"Well, yes, I mean if the mayor took the time to make the recording, I thought I should at least thank him for it. You know be polite. Don't you think?"
"Lass, ye ken he that he canna hear ye. He will never ken that ye thanked him, don't ye? It was just a wee recording." His eyes were alight with love as he gazed at me. He smiled that half smile that curled up his lip that I so loved.
"Jamie", I sighed with exasperation, "I am well aware that it was only a recording and not a real person. I know that his honor will never know that I thanked him." I looked at him as if he were the one who was daft for thinking I couldn't tell the difference.
"What I really was doing was thinking out loud. I was just stating the fact that no one had to worry about the Frasers as they would be spending the weekend safely tucked in bed doing what we just did." I turned my head looking at him over my shoulder and gave him my most sultry and seductive smile. Or at least I had hoped so.
He looked at me for a long moment taking me in and then roared out a laugh that shook the bed. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, gasping for breath, and turned the most lovely shade of rose from laughing so hard.
Jamie slowed his breathing allowing it to come back to him while rubbing at his eyes wiping away the tears.
"Oh Christ, lass, loving ye will be the death of me. Come here my wee vixen and let me love ye again."
