Claire Beauchamp is dragged by her best friend and flatmate, Geillis Duncan, to go visit a powerful psychic to prove once and for all that true love exists. Claire is a practical woman and finds the idea of true love pointless. Jamie Fraser is a powerful psychic who can glimpse the future. When he meets Claire, something changes. Like they were destined to find each other.
This is @takemeawaytocamelot for #2 of the Outlander Fanfic Relay!
1
She always made an effort to care, to remember names, to be kind. No matter how bad things got for the rest of them, she offered a sweet smile. When she made her rounds, she gave each of her patients undivided attention. Every nurse and doctor that came through was kind, but there was something about her, something different.
The days she had rounds quickly became his favorite. Her elegant fingers were always deft and soft, sure of each move she made. She had a strength about her and he found himself longing to ask her questions of her life. But it wasn’t appropriate in this place, not with her.
He did his best to pass the time by telling stories. That seemed to be the most popular with everyone else in the room. They were all there for the same reason and all needed the same distraction. So he told them stories of brave Highland warriors, of mythical water horses, and of fairy hills. Each person in the room listened in eager anticipation, including her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her leaning against the door, a faint smile on her lips.
“And that is why,” he finished. “The water never freezes. The chimney the water horse built for his wife keeps the water too warm.”
The tease of her smile turned into a full grin and it lit up the room. It was like seeing the sun after a rainy day and it warmed him to his very core.
Here it is! The next installment of the shipwreck AU. As always, @takemeawaytocamelot is a dream to work with ❤️ Hope you all enjoy! See the previous chapter HERE.
Jamie woke abruptly, fighting back the restraining hands that held him down. His heart was hammering, blind anger and panic still coursing through his body despite the pain that stabbed at him with each move he made.
“Be still!”
Part of his brain grasped onto that voice. She wouldn’t be on that field…
“Jamie, no!”
He could hear gasping and realized it was his own breathing. Forcing his eyes open, he saw that it was still late. The fire was burning low, emanating flickers of soft light that illuminated Claire’s face as she saw awareness come into his eyes. Her grip on his shoulders lessened as they looked at each other.
“All right?” she asked softly, brushing his hair away from his damp face.
“Aye,” he rasped.
His throat was sore. A Dhia he hoped he hadn’t cried out in his sleep. Once Claire helped him to sit upright, Jamie leaned his head back against the tree. He’d been dreaming of Culloden again, and little wonder - everything hurt. A soft breeze floated over him, making him shiver despite feeling parched and burnt by the sun. Claire brought the water skin to his lips, taking extra care not to touch him.
“I’m sorry if I frightened ye.”
She paused, meeting his eyes as she shook her head.
“You didn’t.”
Jamie nodded, watching her as she examined his visible wounds. Seeing her face, it struck him that she might think she hadn’t cared for him properly. He swallowed.
“What woke me… it was only a dream, ken?”
Claire took his hand, examining the splinter wound. “Only a dream?” she asked, meeting his eyes.
She’d known what he’d meant. He looked away, seeing the first rays of sunlight beginning to show themselves through the trees.
“Jamie?”
He turned back, heart stopping at the look on her face. Some pity, yes. Compassion, most certainly. But what struck him was the look of honest understanding.
I may not have visible wounds, but I know the invisible, her eyes said.
*******
“Wouldn’t it be easier if ye just drop me in the ocean?”
“Yes.”
“Then where are we going?”
After a quiet breakfast, Jamie had asked Claire if there was a place to bathe that was near to her camp. Truthfully, he ached abominably, felt very ill, and could smell himself in a way that made him embarrassed to be in her presence. Claire had risen, gathered her spear and water skin, and forced him to walk deeper inland as he leaned against her.
“Shush.”
“Shush, she says,” he muttered in Gaelic, almost tripping over a fallen palm tree frond. Only Claire’s reflexes kept them both from toppling into a heap on the ground.
“It will help,” Claire responded, ignoring his tone and keeping her pace.
If ye dinna kill me first.
“Sassenach…”
“This way.”
Jamie exhaled, focusing all of his energy on not collapsing. The very thought of simply lying down sounded almost more exquisite than the pain relief Claire had promised him.
“In there,” Claire said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.
Jamie looked around the cave entrance that she’d pointed at. Surrounded by trees, the air around them seems to glow in the light of the sun that moved through the leaves overhead. Claire moved to brush branches away from an opening in the rock fissure before them.
Jamie held out a hand to steady himself as they made their way down. And down. And down.
“How far does the path go, Sassenach?” he asked lowly.
Despite the air being cooler, he could feel the moisture that coated his face and ran down his back. His legs were beginning to tremble. He focused on her grip on him and followed her confident steps until he realized the path was leveling out.
“Can you see it?” she asked.
“I canna see anything.”
She left him standing, quietly moving about and making rustling noises. Jamie could hear the cave breathe and felt a small qualm go through his body at the reminder of the cave at Lallybroch.
Suddenly, a small flame illuminated Claire’s face. He blinked, taking comfort in the warm light that was growing in her hands as she lit the torch that was buried in the ground. Satisfied that it would burn steadily, she rose and held out her hand.
“Come.”
He stepped carefully, trying not to grimace. After journeying to this place, his shoulder and ribs ached with each breath and each pull and push of muscle seemed to emanate a burning jolt of pain that ran up his body and into his head. Taking her hand, he allowed her to tow him into the large cavern space.
“Is that..?”
Claire smiled at him, gently pulling him closer to the edge of the clear black lake. The air was humid here. Jamie could see the wisps of moisture hanging over the still surface of the water, the faint scent of sulfur slightly burning in his nose. Claire turned, the flames illuminating her against the black backdrop of the cave.
“Take off your shirt.”
Jamie blinked.
“What?”
Claire laughed, grabbing at the hem of his grubby sark.
“It will get wet,” she said practically, pulling it up.
“Christ, woman!” Jamie exclaimed, backing away and promptly tripping over a log that was behind him. “Ifrinn!”
Claire moved to help but he held out his hand, halting her. Sitting on the log, Jamie gazed suspiciously at her. Slowly, she sank to the ground and sat before him, gazing placidly back.
“I willna be taking my shirt off, lass,” he said definitively. “Nor anything else! It’s no’ proper.”
“The water helps healing,” Claire replied firmly.
“Aye, well, leave me be and-“
“You’ll drown.”
He opened his mouth to argue but promptly shut it again. Between the shipwreck, the journey to the cave, and his current physical limitations, he was shaking like a leaf. He exhaled heavily through his nose.
“It will help,” she said softly, whisky eyes glowing up at him.
“Lass…” he said, closing his eyes to avoid looking at her.
Admittedly, he’d almost give anything for relief of his bodily ailments. He wouldn’t, however, dishonor the lass or himself. And then, there were the scars…
“Jamie.”
He opened his eyes and his mouth fell open. She stood, naked above the waste, looking over her shoulder at him. She lifted her hand, smoothing the thick mass of her hair out of the way. The original cuts would have been deep. They were five long runnels running from her right shoulder, across her back, and fading where the curve of her ribs created her waistline. Her eyes were sure and honest, lacking hesitancy or embarrassment.
“Claire…”
He rose, transfixed. She stood still, watching him as he hesitantly reached out to touch one of the scars. She flinched slightly at his touch. He met her eyes to seek permission, and, after a moment, she nodded. Gently, he followed the line down, his hand cupping her waist as the marks faded. Gooseflesh had risen over her skin, making the tiny down hairs on her arms rise. Looking up, he found her lips had parted and the look of trust she gave him smote him to his very core.
“Take off your shirt?” she asked, her hand covering the one he’d placed on her waist. “The water will help.”
He hesitated, then nodded. Backing up, he took a deep breath and pulled the linen over his head. He dropped it on the ground and looked up. He stared.
“Have you never seen a naked woman before?” she asked, seeming amused.
Her garments lay at her feet. That was the first thing he tried to focus on when he’d ripped his eyes away from her.
“No’ one so close,” he gasped, torn between laughing and dying of embarrassment.
“Your face is red.”
“Aye, to be sure,” he rejoined, meeting her eyes again. “Christ lass, ye’ve no’ a stitch on!”
She moved toward him, slowly, like she would approach a startled animal.
“Your turn,” she said, reaching for his flies.
Jamie jumped back and nearly tripped over the log again.
“No,” he said firmly. “Absolutely not.”
Claire cocked her head, eyebrow raised. The flames from the torch put her body in dark relief, as it had in the light of the campfire. This time, though, he actually knew what was under her clothing. Jamie swallowed, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading to more than just his face.
“The breeks stay on lass, and that’s all abou’ it.”
Claire smiled at him, but nodded, holding out her hand to help. She tucked her shoulder under his arm and suddenly stopped as her hand reached behind his back. Jamie closed his eyes. He’d forgotten, in the awkwardness.
Claire stepped behind him, her fingertips gently caressing the hundreds of welts that scarred his back. He could feel her, almost see her face in his mind, and was startled at the knowledge that she wouldn’t be afraid. Claire would know, perhaps more than anyone else he’d ever met, about being haunted by scars and memories. The thought was oddly comforting.
Silently, she stepped in front of him again and squeezed his hand.
“Come. It’s shallow, just there.”
She led him to the pool, heedless of her nakedness. Try as he might, Jamie couldn’t look away. In the light, her skin was a sun kissed gold; there, in the dark, she glowed like ivory as she sank into the hot spring. A siren calling him to his death. He answered, slowly moving into the water, every cut and bruise stinging as he allowed her to wade him deeper.
Jamie felt his body relaxing, the silence and stillness of this place putting his mind at peace and easing the pain and stiffness. Claire turned, holding him by the elbows as a gentle current began towing them. Her curls lay limp, the ends floating in the water, clinging to her breasts. He felt her start kicking as they floated into deeper waters and he reached for her without thought.
He felt his world fix itself on her face as her confidence changed to surprise and guarded hesitance. Her eyes shone bright in the dimness, meeting his in silent trust. His hands at her waist held her up; gentle, so that she could pull away if she wished. She didn’t.
Jamie had never held a naked woman. Had never thought he would, in fact, after Culloden and it’s aftermath. Thoughts of decency warred with the overwhelming sense of wanting her nearer. He felt her hands skim from his elbows up to his shoulders and he shuddered, despite the heat of the water that surrounded them. He pulled her closer, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he stopped before her breasts could brush his chest.
Claire stared at him, her breathing heavier than usual. Slowly, she brought her hand behind his neck and flushed her body with his, her breath soft against his shoulder.
“God,” he whispered, holding her close, his hands running smoothly up and down her back.
Her skin was soft and warm, slippery in the oily water. Jamie closed his eyes, feeling her heartbeat against his chest, the way her nipples brushed against him as she breathed, the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. He cupped her neck in his hand, sliding his fingers up to tangle in her wild curls. Claire whimpered, pulling herself higher so that her nose brushed his ear.
His free hand slid down her waist, gripping her backside and pulling her closer. Claire hitched her leg around his hip and Jamie pulled her to him again, breath coming short. He could feel her, bare and open for him under the water. The next time, he thrust back against her. This time, he whimpered.
Claire pulled back, meeting his eyes. Her eyes were soft, yet burning, despite the lack of light in that area of the lake. She touched his face, moving her hips against him as her nose brushed his. He could feel her breath against his lips as she shakily exhaled.
What he wouldn’t give to kiss her, to reach down and touch her just there…
Claire’s grip on him slipped and pain shot down his arm, making him hiss out a breath. She looked at him, mortified.
“I’m sorry… I…”
Jamie blinked, shrugging the offending joint gingerly.
“It’s alright, lass. Truly… I…”
They’d reached another bank and Claire found her footing again. Still, she held on to him. Jamie stared at her, appalled at his actions.
“Claire, I am sorry,” he said. “I should never have…”
He looked at her helplessly, ashamed at his behavior. She stared at him, her parted lips and flushed cheeks making him start to lose his head all over again. Smiling a little shakily, she nodded.
I am LOVING your wee drabbles! Keep it up darling! I can't wait to see what else you do!!
This is so, SO sweet - especially coming from someone whose writing I really enjoy. I’m hoping to post more drabbles this weekend, and possibly start a new series :)
@takemeawaytocamelot and @outlandishchridhe both know how much I love their Las Vegas Au, so knew any such request would be entirely irresistible, and so it has proved....
It felt very strange drawing Christmas in June/July but hopefully I have managed to capture the joy Claire and Jamie are feeling for their coming baby.... - mod Fiona
I ADORE this blog. I only recently got into the MT universe thanks to my bestie and when I found this blog, I squealed. You do a wonderful job finding all the various voices. Keep up the amazing work!!
It's been a while since we got some Modern Glasgow love. So what if Jamie and Claire need a holiday, away from their frantic lives for a bit. We know they love their kids, but sometimes a break is needed. Maybe a nice wee date or a weekend getaway? Thank you Gotham!!
Modern Glasgow AU
“Will ye look at that? The postman is here!”
Faith Fraser – aged almost two – let out a wee cheer andscampered from the couch to the front door of the flat. Her sister Brianna –aged almost one, and at that stage where she mimed almost everything herbeloved older sister did – let out her own confused wee cheer, and speed-crawledacross the carpet, keeping up the best she could.
Murtagh knelt to help Faith into her bright blue sweater,then lifted Brianna to his hip, wrapping a worn Fraser plaid arisaid around herwee shoulders – knowing that Claire would have his head if she heard that herdaughters had so much as stuck their wee noses outside without proper covering.
“Ready?”
Faith enthusiastically nodded, and Murtagh carefullyopened the door, let Faith run out to the landing, and then turned to lock thedoor behind him, balancing a suddenly squirmy Brianna.
“*Seas, a ruaidh,*” he hushed her. “Ye’ll be chasingafter yer sister soon enough. Faith! Dinna go down the stairs until I’m there!”
Faith theatrically froze at the top step – one small legpoised to take the first step down – waiting for her godfather.
And then Murtagh was there, taking her hand, guiding herdown the three flights to the ground floor and unlocking the entry door.
Chilly, damp air – unusual for July – blasted through theopen door – and Brianna suddenly snuggled against his neck, seeking warmth.
“Sshh,” he soothed. “I ken it’s almost yer naptime.”
Swiftly he unlocked the mailbox, and allowed the cards,letters, and magazines to spill out.
“Muwta!” Faith admonished. “Ye haf to clean up the mess!”
“Weel – can ye help me, Ms. Faith? I have my hands fullwi’ yer wee sister here.”
Gleefully she bent to stuff her arms full of mail – and oneparticular piece caught her eye.
“Issa coo!” she exclaimed, holding the postcard out toMurtagh for his inspection. “Just like Bwee’s toy!”
“Aye – it’s a bonny coo,” Murtagh agreed, smiling at the blasépicture. “And look – it’s from the Isle of Skye! Who could possibly have sentit?”
“Mama and Da!” Faith exclaimed.
“Mama?” Bree briefly perked up, craning her neck to see ifher beloved parents had suddenly returned.
“No, *a leannan* - they’re no’ back yet,” Murtaghsoothed, running a gentle hand up and down Bree’s wee back. “They should beback tomorrow – come then, Faith. Help me wi’ the post and then we can go backupstairs, make some tea, and read their postcard – all right?”
“All right!” Suddenly engrossed in her task, Faithscooped up all the pieces of mail and darted back up the stairs – stray lettersfluttering behind her.
“Mama?” Bree asked again, voice filled with sleep.”
“Hush now – lay yer heid. Mama and Da love ye so much.”
Bree settled back against him – and blessed his neck witha small, wet sneeze.
“And Murtagh loves ye and Faith more than he can everfind the words to say,” he continued, turning back to the stairs. “Though Godkens it’s trying sometimes.”
---
“Dear Faith and Bree – we saw so many coos today! Andsheep and goats too. The weather is bonny and we wish ye were here with us.Mama says we can come back once the baby comes, and take a proper holiday. Hopeyou aren’t giving Murtagh too much trouble. Lots of love, Mama and Da.”
Jamie looked up from the desk at the corner of theirhotel room. “What do ye think?”
Claire stretched, naked, amid the soft duvet, rubbing thefive-month swell of their bairn. “I think we’ll need to get a nice bottle ofwhisky, for Murtagh. And of course a coo for Faith, since she’ll be jealousthat Bree has one and she doesn’t.”
“I’m glad she won’t take it for herself, then – God kensit’s what I would do,” Jamie smiled, finishing the last of his tea.
“Well - *I* like to raise my children to have manners,”she teased, rolling over to one side, watching him. “This one, too.”
Jamie rose, crossed the room, and slid over her on thebed, pushing her to her back, holding himself up on his arms above her. Feelingtheir bairn dance under his belly.
“God bless women like you for bringing more Frasers intothis world,” he breathed, rolling them to rest on their sides, still skin onskin.
“It means I’m going straight to heaven,” she teased. “Forputting up with you.”
“I hope you’re willing to do a wee bit more than just putup wi’ me,” he whispered against her lips. She closed the gap in a long, heatedkiss.
“Happy anniversary, Jamie.” She rolled on top of him. Hisfingers skimmed all over her beautiful, glowing skin.
“Six years,” he breathed, swallowing with want andemotion. “Holy God, Claire – we have forever together. Do ye ken that?”
She smiled – and took him, gasping, inside – and he kentit weel.
