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lordjohngreyreadingnook · 5 years ago

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And recommendations for J/J/C? The threesome secretly wished for. That's all, thank you. 😊

Hi there @geekinthefuschiahair, thank you for the request! Luckily, there are many who think this particular love triangle could be wonderfully solved by a threesome ;) We have compiled a list of J/J/C works here for you. There is everything: short, long, angsty, fluffy and sexy, so hopefully, you will find something that suits your mood. Happy reading! Disclaimer: This list doesn't include non-English works or WIPs at this time. We’ll tag this ship Claire/Jamie/John to stick with the alphabetical-by-first-name theme.

Title: Reasons to live Author: Angstosaur Rating: M Word Count: 7020 Summary: Please read all the tags first. Trigger warnings for suicidal thoughts and depression.

This starts as a study into the frame of mind of a man who thinks he has nothing left to live for, that his life is empty and no longer has meaning. He no longer wants to live. The first part is very much in an immersive style of writing and as such could be upsetting - if you think this will affect you negatively, please do NOT read... I'll post something fluffy another day.

As the TV show suggests at the end of Season 5, John returns to England to look after Helwater, which has been inherited by William following the death of Lord Dunsany. However, he finds himself alone - William has not settled for the life of a country gentleman and has gone to visit the Frasers. All alone, a dark mood descends on John, one that he finds himself unable to shake off. What he is unaware of is that the letter he wrote to Jamie would be viewed and acted on as a cry for help. It is then up to Jamie and Claire to reach out to John in return and to reassure him that he has a place with them and that he is far from unloved.

Title: Geography Notwithstanding Author: MistressPandora Rating: T Word Count: 3060 Summary: Lord John Grey and Jamie Fraser are on the run from both the Continentals and the British Army, leading them away their family fleeing to Fraser's Ridge.

Title: The Silver of Moonlight Author: JRC10 Rating: E Word Count: 43050 Summary: Jamie and Claire have settled into a quiet life on Fraser's Ridge. Everything is finally falling into place in their lives...until...

Jamie receives a letter from his erstwhile friend, Lord John Grey, who is planning on accompanying his son to visit the Ridge. Jamie's lingering resentment over John and Claire's carnal knowledge of each other comes to a head when these three are forced into company for the sake of their son. A great confrontation just might lead Claire, Jamie, and John in a direction they never saw coming.

Title: Triquetra Author: FaerieChild Rating: E Word Count: 151925 Summary: A M/M and M/M/F Outlander slash and threesome fanfiction started for NaNoWriMo. A modern AU set in the world of thoroughbred horse racing. After the passing of her husband Frank Randall, newly widowed Claire Beauchamp decides to spend her late husband's money on a thoroughbred racehorse and starts looking for a trainer. Meanwhile thoroughbred horse trainer Jamie Fraser feels increasingly drawn to friend and horse owner John Grey.

Title: Terribly Reckless and Incredibly Stupid Author: MistressPandora Rating: E Word Count: 11420 Summary: When Lord John Grey is arrested for a crime he didn't commit, Jamie and Willie must find a way to rescue him before he's executed.

Title: love is a spell Author: Nara_stories Rating: T Word Count: 2629 Summary: Jamie and John are hunting together when they encounter a witch who curses John to make them both suffer.

Title: the one thing older than war Author: iihappydaysii Rating: E Word Count: 8021 Summary: While on a bison hunt with Lord John Grey, Jamie Fraser gets bit by a venomous snake. With death just around the corner, Jamie makes a long-held confession. (A rewrite of 5x09.)

Title: Love your enemy Author: Nara_stories Rating: T Word Count: 3546 Summary: If Jamie asked me I could have told him how useless and unnecessary it was to try and break off all connection with John in a letter. [...] But Jamie didn’t ask me, so I doubtfully watched the ceremonial process. He used Brianna’s special paper with tiny rose petals pressed into it, he formed the letters carefully with the stiff fingers of his right hand and I wondered how he could have ever convinced anyone that he did not care for the man.

Title: It Was You All Along Author: curlsgetdemgurls Rating: E Word Count: 2343 Summary: This takes place after events of ‘Echo in the Bone’ and the dialogue in italics is verbatim from ‘Written In My Own Heart’s Blood’ so if you haven’t read it or don’t want to know major plot details then DO NOT READ CAUSE SPOILERS, but if you don’t care about spoilers then enjoy! :)

Imagine if Jamie and John didn’t flee right after Jamie returned to Claire, they stayed at Lord John’s house and had this conversation in Lord John’s bedroom with Claire peeking through the door.

Title: Meanwhile Back at the Ridge Author: AbbyDebeaupre Rating: M Word Count: 4683 Summary: What happens when Jamie and Willie return to the Ridge? Love me some Lord John even if the man is destined to pine away in the forests of North Carolina.

Dear readers and fandom friends, do you have other Claire/Jamie/John works that you like, that we haven’t included in this list? If so, please share your recommendations!

#Ask the Curators #Claire/Jamie/John #Lord John Grey #Lord John #John Grey

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samheughanswife · 5 years ago

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What do you think about that Deb woman and the others putting down that young girl Emma? This fandom has so many who think they’re entitled to a piece of Sam and Cait. No wonder they hide their relationship. These fans don’t realize they aren’t their friends just fans.

This will most likely incense many but I don’t care.

There is a group of women who read the books in the 90’s who are book purists.They think Outlander is exclusively theirs. That’s fine but don’t impose your opinions and demands on others. I have many books I loved and have been very disappointed with the screen adaptation. But that is what happens. The author knows it and the readers/fans should understand adaptation means change. But it seems that some purists are vicious and entitled.

I watched the first two seasons before I bought the books. I only read the first 4. Great literature it is not. But I liked the story. It’s was always going to be difficult to please everyone. Impossible really. So into this devoted fanbase it was a given that there would be gate-keepers. For me many of them are harmless, but there are a vocal minority who feel it’s their god given right to police and control a group of fans whose ages span from the 20’s - 70 plus. Generational differences again a given. Entitlement not so much.

Everything I have seen and read of Deborah Kennedy is entitled and ugly. And she is not alone. There are many like her. As evidenced by the support she relished receiving after going after Emma. And yes Emma should have done things differently, and I’m sure there are some regrets. But this was an experience of unbridled joy for Emma. I’m not sure if it was her first Con but it certainly wasn’t Deborah’s. She follows them everywhere 😳.

Deborah believes it’s her duty to tell people how to fan and support Sam and Caitriona and the show. It’s her way or the highway. And she thinks she is untouchable and had the support of SC, the show and the women who share her views. With age, wisdom is not a given!

These same types of fans want to dictate their beliefs and standards. From schooling and insulting the many brilliant fan fic writers. All the way to most definitely telling Sam who he should love. And that person is not Caitriona.

So the attack on Emma was multi pronged. She writes fan fiction. They hate that. She is a shipper who sees love. They loathe that. And she is younger than them so they think she has no right to any of the above. It was with glee that they flocked to her account and harassed her off Twitter. I hope Emma remembers that she had a fantastic time. She met up with OL friends for the first time. She had her photos taken. It was her joy. Deborah can not take that from you @curlsgetdemgurls.

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three-drink-amy · 5 years ago

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TEN SONG CHALLENGE

I was tagged by @captainsantiagos! Thanks, Hannah!

list ten songs you can’t stop listening to and then tag 10 other people.

1. Heartbreak Weather by Niall Horan

2. What a Man Gotta Do by the Jonas Brothers

3. How Will I Know by Whitney Houston

4. Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi

5. How Do You Sleep by Sam Smith

6. Dancing on My Own by Robyn

7. I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys

8. HandClap by Fitz and the Tantrums

9. Rewrite the Stars by Zac Efron and Zendaya

10. One Day More by Les Mis cast

Tagging: @marielle-heller @musketrois @startofamoment @elizabeth-beauchamp @smolsamberg @city-bright @balfey @curlsgetdemgurls @danieljradcliffe @tedddylupin

#no judment yall

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 6 years ago

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Edinburgh To Boston - Chapter 11 - Redux

Good evening all, Here is the next chapter of Edinburgh To Boston. I hope you all enjoy it. We met some old friends and a person oft-spoken of but never seen.

Chapter 12 is nearly done. It is in the revision stage then off to my lovely beta @curlsgetdemgurls whom without her, this would not exist. Many, many thanks Emma for everything.

As always, I look forward to your thoughts, comments, and respectful criticism.

Without further delay, I give you...

Edinburgh To Boston

Chapter 11

Redux

“Rabbie, ye wee gomeral! Dinna stick yer brother’s head in the snow, aye. He canna breathe in there.”

Rabbie MacLennan was busy shoving his brother Davey’s head deeper into a snowbank. At his grandmother’s reprimand, he let go and ran off cackling to himself.

There must be something wrong with that boy, she thought. She hoped she wouldn’t see him on one of those Most Wanted Shows when he grew up.

Davey freed himself from his frozen entombment and found himself covered head to toe in snow looking rather like a scrawny snowman. Shaking himself like a dog, he removed much of the fine flakes sticking to his hat, hair, face, and clothes.

“Wait for me,” the lad called racing after his brother to see what other devilry they could stir up.

Maizie gave a long-suffering look toward her husband that said: Do something.

Harry, in the language of the long-married, returned the look, asking: Like what?

She glared back at him, I dinna ken. They’re your grandsons, do something.

Jamie and Claire observed the mayhem headed their way. They turned and looked at each other smiling.

“Lass, it’s Harry and Maizie. I dinna think we would ever see them again.”

Jamie raised his arm waving it furiously loudly calling out, “mo charaid.”

“Come along a nighean,” he said laughing and pulled her along. He moved toward the elderly couple with a decided determination.

Harry looked up recognizing their acquaintances from the plane, took off his cap and began waving it in his own brand of frenetic gesticulations calling out, “Hallo.”

“Ye see who it ‘tis, my love? ‘Tis the lad from the plane with his lass,” he said with a broad smile plastered across his face.

Smiling she began to wave as well. “So ‘tis. They look happy, do they no’?”

“Aye, they do.”

The men reached each other and began the time-honored male ritual greeting composed of handshakes, hugging, and back pounding.

Observing this male disposition, it occurred to Claire that this habit of pummeling each other in a form of welcome might be the reason that men were impervious to superficial pain.

The ladies, however, greeted each other more genteelly, clasping each other’s hands, kissing a cheek, and exchanging pleasantries.

Of course, it was just like men to wander off in pursuit of their own conversations while leaving the women to mind the store. This entailed clearing the snow off a bench for them to sit and keep a watchful eye on the two rapscallions. Bloody men.

“How goes it, lad? Ye look happy and I might add so does the lass.” Harry cast a glance back toward Claire.

If it were possible, Jamie’s cold-reddened cheeks would have turned scarlet.

“We, ah, talked, and found the truth between us. She, um, weel, she loves me as I do her. So, we are together,” he smiled so brightly it would have rivaled the sun. “I still dinna ken how ye were so certain about such things.”

“Laddie, it is as plain as the nose on yer face. A blind man could see that ye love each other and belong together. ‘Twas not hard at all. All ye two needed was a push in the right direction.”

Harry turned his eyes to gaze intently upon Jamie. His expression hardening like a stern schoolmaster about to chastise an errant student.

“Remember lad, she is a braw lassie, strong, capable, independent. Dinna underestimate her. But, she can be very fragile, delicate, and her heart, once given, can be easily broken. Take care of her, love her rightly and if ye do sae she will be yers forever.”

“Aye, sir I will. Ye can trust me.”

A snowball whizzed by Harry’s hat, missing it by a fraction of an inch. He looked up and saw his grandson Rabbie hanging upside down, monkey-like from a tree. His younger brother stood below with a stockpile of frozen missiles.

“Oi, ye wee scoundrels, what are ye about then?” Harry stormed toward the tree where the lads were. Jamie keeping pace brought up the rear as reinforcement.

Davey hopped up and down trying to get his brother’s attention wanting him to pull him up into the tree and away from his Grandda’s grasp.

“Jump Davey, jump.”

Rabbie extended his hand as far as he could and with one final long stretch, he just managed to grasp his brother’s hand. With a mighty pull, he brought Davey up and out of reach of his grandsire. The lads sat swinging their legs back and forth from their high perch enjoying the view of their frustrated and angry grandfather below.

“Do ye want them down?”

Harry snorted, “I do.”

“Now listen here, lads. Either ye come down or I come up. And ye willna like it if I do.”

“Yer auld. Ye canna climb up trees,” said Rabbie with a smirk on his face.

“Aye, I can. I climb trees, mountains, and rock walls.”

“Are ye Spideyman then?” asked wee Davey with a hopeful look on his face.

“Nay, but I ken him.”

“Ye do???!!!” The little boy’s eyes widened becoming positively goggle-eyed.

“Aye, he came to the hospital where I work to visit with the sick bairns. He told me all his secrets for climbing. If ye come down, I’ll tell ye.”

Davey looked awestruck. Rabbie looked at Jamie with skepticism.

“I dinna believe ye,” he said eyes narrowed to slits and glared.

“I have pictures of Spider-Man and me. He taught me some of his spidey moves. I have a video too if ye want to see it.”

Davey was beside himself with excitement. Rabbie, however, more of a doubting Thomas required proof. The two laddies were busy trying to scramble down the tree. Rabbie older and bigger pushed his way forward wanting to be first.

Davey had another idea. He hung down from the branch by his fingertips, “Catch me, Grandda,” and let go dropping five feet straight down.

Harry ran forward hoping he would be in time to catch the rascal and not drop him. Jamie got there before Harry, opened his arms and caught the boy in the nick of time, saving him from serious injury.

“Lad, do ye no’ ken that ye weigh as much as a good draft horse when ye fall from that height? Ye nearly broke my back.”

The wean laughed, “Can I see the pictures now, please?”

He set the child down, pulled out his phone and scrolled through the pictures. The lads were enamored by them and began acting out the poses they saw.

Jamie Fraser had convinced a friend to dress up as Spider-Man and come to entertain the children. He posed, signed autographs, took pictures, and gave out little gifts. At the end of the wee party, a spectacular Spider-Man cake was rolled out and happily and messily consumed by all.

Each year Dr. Fraser planned a different event for the children. Wherever he worked or trained he would manage to beg or borrow, cajole or arm-twist enough money to plan a wee party for the weans. All done in memory of his brother Willie. The children broke his heart. For some, the hospital was their home, for others they would never leave it. Some of the lucky ones would get well enough to live their lives but not without experiencing more than any child should have to.

Claire and Maizie sat on the bench talking of this and that while keeping a watchful eye on their men.

“Are ye happy then, lass?”

Claire looked up first to Jamie then to Maizie.

“Yes, very happy. Happier than I have been in a long time. Probably happier than I have ever been in my whole life.”

“Aye, I thought so. I can see it in the way ye look at him. And in the way he looks at ye,” she chuckled softly.

“Yer man, he is a Highlander, is he no’?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Weel, they are proud men, strong of body and spirit, honorable to be sure, disciplined, loyal, courageous, patient and honest. Can ye handle a man like that lass? He can and will be a handful at times.” She looked at Claire searching her face for the truth. “Oh, and did I mention stubborn? Once they have made up their minds, there is no turning them back.”

“How do you know all this?”

“My man is a Highlander too. It has been a bonnie life with him, never dull,” she chuckled. “I wouldna change him or the life I had with him for anything. He has been a challenge at times, but I set him straight,” Maizie said with a wink.

“Oh, and one more thing lass, if ye dinna kent it yet. They have hearty appetites in bed!”

Claire opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it and shut it. She felt the heat of her embarrassment rising up her face.

“I see ye ken what I say is true,” she laughed heartily.

“Well I...ah, well, mmm, damn.” Claire flushed a lovely shade of pink.

“Enjoy his love for ye lass. ‘Tis a blessing. I still do,” she said with a lascivious smile.

She looked up at the sky, seeing that the sun had begun to lower, checked the time on her watch.

“‘Tis late. I need to get my lads home, dry and fed.”

“Harry! Harry! Get the lads, ‘tis time we were going home.”

The boys and the men’s heads snapped up at the words going home.

“A leannan,” he said in his most silky voice, “the lads are having such a good time. Might we be able to stay a little longer?” All four members of the male contingent shook their heads in unanimous agreement to this request.

“Ye can have ten more minutes, then we must leave. ‘Twill be getting dark soon,” Maizie said with a shiver.

Claire had been watching Jaime play with the boys, roughhousing, laughing, throwing snowballs at each other, helping to build a snowman, and generally acting like one of the boys. Her hands went reflexively to her belly. He was meant to be a father, she thought. She worried if she couldn’t give that gift to him would he hate her? Worse yet, would he leave her?

“Dinna fash, lass. Yer time will come too,” she observed Claire’s hands protectively on her abdomen.

“I wasn’t able to before with, with my ex-husband.”

“If he’s yer ex, then perhaps it was for the best. Looking at yer lad there, I think things will be different this time.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said with a hopeful look on her face.

Looking toward the men hard at work making the most of the last few minutes of playtime, Maizie called out, “Come along lads, ‘tis time for our suppers.”

The male heads rose up at the mention of food.

They bid farewell to each other, repeating the ceremonial handshakes, hugs, and backslaps. The boys were counseled to listen to their Mam, Da, Grannie, and Grandda, eat their vegetables as Jamie would be seeing Spider-man again when he got back to Scotland. Rabbie and Davey nodded their heads solemnly and promised to be on their best behavior and (Blah!) to eat their veggies too.

The women embraced, Claire, thanking Maizie for all her advice. She kissed her cheek softly and bid her goodbye.

“Come along Spider-Man, let’s get you back to the hotel and out of those wet clothes, shall we hmm?”

“Will ye help me out of my wet clothes then, mo ghràdh? I’m so cold and wet that I think my cock will snap off.”

“That my dear would be a catastrophe,” Claire said with a smirk.

Jamie began to speak, instead, he wrinkled his nose, squeezed his eyes together, and let out a volley of sneezes. He began to sniffle.

“Hmm, things seem more serious than I thought. Let’s get you back to the hotel and warm you up.”

“Aye, sounds like a good idea. Will ye warm me then, Claire?” There was a twinkle in his eyes as Jamie waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Men!” she snickered.

**********

They lay nestled together in the twilight of sleep, neither fully awake nor fully asleep. Warm. Complete. Filled with love. His arms enclosed her. One hand cupping her breast while the other drew around her waist bringing her closer. A finger idly traced the slope of her breast coming to rest on a nipple. Stroking it lightly, it came alive under his touch hardening, rounding, wanting. Her arse settled fully in his groin wanting to eliminate any space between them.

“Does it ever stop, the wanting you? Even when I've just left ye. I want you so much my chest feels tight and my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again.”

She wiggled closer feeling the effects of her movements against him.

“I want you too, always,” she mumbled sleepily.

His lips pressed soft tender kisses to her neck and felt her quiver.

He turned her onto her back raining a succession of heated kisses along her chin, chest, down the hollow between her breasts.

“Mo nighean donn, I hunger for ye.”

He blazed passionate kisses down her body paying homage to her.

Reaching her navel, a distant grumbling sounded from within the depths of her abdomen.

Jamie startled, “Sassenach, yer making wee noises, but no’ the ones I was hoping for.”

“Hmmm, seems I’m famished.”

“For food?”

“Mmhm. It’s been a long time since breakfast and we did have a busy afternoon.”

“Aye, we did.” He rested his head on her belly. “Would ye like me to order room service or would ye like to go to the restaurant?” He hoped she’d pick room service.

“Well, I bought a new dress to wear for the last dinner at the conference. It would be a shame to not get to wear it.”

“Alright then, lass, the restaurant it is, but first I must have my dessert.”

********

Jamie sat on the end of the bed showered, shaved, and dressed in his charcoal grey suit, white shirt, and blue tie. He hummed a rhythmless tune while his foot tapped in a futile attempt to keep time. Taking out his phone, he idly scrolled through the news, and his social media accounts watching the videos of dogs and cats engaged in ridiculous antics.

His eyes drifted back toward the closed bathroom door wondering what was taking Claire so long. To save time they had showered together. He had soaped her up, sliding his hands over her slippery body becoming captivated with each curve, and rounded area of her body. Ah Dhia, that sweet fat arse of hers. He would never tire of fondling it. And what she did to him. Lathering him, she stroked him with her soft wee hand turning his legs to jello. Christ, the lass knew just how to… His pants were becoming uncomfortable. He stood up adjusted himself and walked to the bathroom door.

“Claire, are ye alright, lass?”

“I just need another few minutes, Jamie.”

She’s been in there for at least a half-hour. What takes women so long to get dressed?

He walked to the large window and watched the lights of Boston twinkle like fireflies on a warm summer’s night.

He heard the sound of the bathroom door open and Claire stepped out.

She was a vision in red. The dress was floor-length, long-sleeved with a high neckline. It hugged every curve of her body in a sensual way. Her hair was up with tiny tendrils draping around her face and neck. Her makeup lightly done except for the red lipstick accentuating the bow of her lips.

“Do you like it?”

He mouth opened and he gaped at her. His eyes sweeping over the sweet long lines of her body.

Her walk was sultry. Her hips swayed. She exuded sexuality. Jamie placed his hands on the swell of her hips. He swallowed, “Yer beautiful, mo nighean donn.” She was mesmerizing. He could not wait to have her on his arm walking through the hotel and into the restaurant, the envy of every man there.

She lightly pressed her mouth on him leaving a trace of her scarlet kiss on his lips. Seductively she traced her thumb across his mouth erasing the crimson mark.

“Claire, I... ”

She gave him a knowing smile, “Let’s go then.”

She turned to reach for her clutch and then he saw it. The dress was backless. The gown laid her bare from the nape of her neck to just above her gluteal cleft exposing the dimples of Venus on her back. It hugged her buttocks emphasizing the roundness, the fullness of her.

“Sassenach! Yer no’ going downstairs like that are ye? Christ woman, I can see clear down yer arse.”

“No, you can’t. I had the sales girl take a video of me moving in all different directions in it and you can’t see anything. I checked. Want to see?” She said smugly.

He didn’t want to see and he didn’t want any other man to see either. The woman would be the death of him.

Deciding to use another tactic, he inquired, “Won’t ye be cold then? Would ye want my jacket, lass?”

“Oh, you’re right, I forgot my wrap.” Walking over to the garment bag she took out a matching stole and wrapped it around herself.

“Better?” she asked batting her eyelashes at him.

“No! It only covers half of ye. Claire, ye canna go out like this,” he sputtered.

“Hmm, I see it’s doubled.” She gave it a little shake to open it completely. She swirled the silken fabric around her back like a matador twirling his red cape in front of a snorting raging bull.

“Is it better now?”

The edge grazed the top of her natal cleft. Any movement she would make exposed her.

“Aye, ‘tis better,” he conceded, “but no’ by much.”

Seeing that Claire would not give up on going to the restaurant wearing that, that dress Jamie conceded defeat.

“My Lady, may I have the honor of escorting ye to dinner?” He extended his arm offering it to her to take.

“I would be honored, my Laird.” She reached out placing her dainty hand in the crook of his elbow feeling him draw her close to him.

He hoped they would make it through dinner without incident.

**************

Brian Fraser looked at his youngest son, drooping and moping about over some lass who would not give the lad the time of day. To make matters worse, Jamie had seen the girl kissing another boy in a remote part of the school library. “Laddie, if the lass is no’ interested in ye, then mayhap she is not the one for ye. Pining away for her will no’ help. Remember, be careful about what ye wish for, because ye may just get it. When ye find the right woman to love, ye will just ken it.”

Jamie Fraser got just what he had hoped for. Male heads turned as they walked into the restaurant. He was the envy of every man there and he didn’t like it. In truth, what he didn’t like was the way men looked at Claire. Some looked at her with a straightforward appreciation of her beauty while others leered at her with outright lust on their faces. It roused his jealousy and need to protect her. His eyes, a search beacon, swept across the sea of men on guard for any potential threat to her or her virtue. Being in love with Claire Beauchamp would not be easy.

Jamie so deep in his need to be on guard that he missed the way Claire looked at him. She was fully aware of how the women looked at him. He was beautiful. That fiery mane with soft curls at the nape, ocean blue eyes that you could drown in, broad back, lean muscular body, and his hands. Ahh, his hands. Hands that held her and played her body like a fine instrument. Stroking it, coaxing it making it crescendo. He is perfect in every way. And yet, he doesn’t know it.

The maî·tre d'hô·tel seated them in a secluded area of the restaurant thanks to the generous bribe, er um, tip Jamie gave the man.

Finally, he felt he could relax. They were seated in at a cozy table for two away from the general traffic of the hotel.

The restaurant L’Orchidée was beautifully appointed. White and violet linens dressed the table while a napkin folded into the shape of a flower sat upon a gold charger awaiting their dinner choice. Candlelight created an intimate mood. Crystal goblets and wine glasses sparkled as they waited to be filled.

The Sommelier appeared suggesting wines to pair with their dinner. Jamie fluently speaking French ordered for them.

“Are ye happy, mo ghràdh? I mean that we are together? Do I make ye happy?” He reached over picked up her hand and began to rub his thumb across her knuckles.

“Happier than I have ever been in my whole life. Do I make you happy?” she asked shyly.

He interlaced their fingers together, “Sae happy.” He hesitated for the briefest of moments then continued, “My heart has been yours since first we met. In truth, you hold my soul in your hands. I am yours, my Sassenach, body, and soul forever.”

The waiter came to serving their dinner. A lovely glazed salmon with a tomato romesco seasoned with garlic, almonds and spices, heirloom carrots and wild rice for Jamie. Claire chose roast chicken rich with a sauce of garlic, herbs, and butter, potato mille-feuille, summer squash with wild mushrooms. The Sommelier appeared pouring their wine selections and bid them bon appétit.

They ate and drank, savoring their meal as much as each other’s company. They talked, laughed, touched, cast shy glances at each other, acting like lovers do.

Jamie’s other vice, besides whisky and Claire, was chocolate. A dessert of a triple chocolate mousse cake accompanied by a froth of whipped cream flavored with Frangelico and a scattering of crushed hazelnuts completed their meal. He insisted on feeding her. He cut off a piece of cake swirled it in the flavored cream offering it to her. She opened her mouth accepting the sweet morsel. Her mouth became coated with the intense taste of dark chocolate and fatty hazelnut whipped cream. An unctuous drop lingered on her lips. His finger swept across her mouth removing the offending particle. Her pink tongue peeked out and licked the tidbit from his finger.

He brought her hand to his mouth pressed a tender kiss to the palm of her hand. His breath warm and moist on her skin making her quiver and her heart flutter.

“Mo chridhe,” he whispered huskily. “I need ye, Claire. I need ye sae bad.” He licked his lips looking at her with darkened wanting eyes.

Jamie was intent on his love and did not see the man approach.

“Hello, Claire,” said a male voice with a cultured English accent.

Claire felt ice run up and down her spine. She knew that voice all too well.

She set her lips in a taut grim line. “Hello, Frank.”

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 11 #redux #old friends #someone we talked about but never met yet #My writing #outlander fanfiction #@curlsgetdemgurls #Here Goes Nothing

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bee-kathony · 6 years ago

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The Oath | Ch. 19 “Round Two”

a/n: thank you all for reading, liking and commenting! I appreciate it so so much. big thanks to @lcbeauchampoftarth for being my beta on this and making it 1000x better! <3

Arc I | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18

December 9th, 2019

Madeline sat comfortably on Geillis’s lap as they sat down to lunch the next day. It was nice to get out of the house and take her mind off of everything that had been going on lately.

“Ye have the chubbiest wee cheeks that I e’er saw.” Geillis lightly pinched Madeline’s cheeks, making her giggle. “Ye might have the cutest baby in the world, Claire.”

“I’ll agree to that,” Claire smiled. “She is rather adorable.”

“With yer genes and that handsome Scot as her father, ye were bound to have an adorable bairn,” Geillis grinned and then bounced Madeline on her knee.

“Do you think—“ Claire started, but shook her head.

“What? Do I think that Jamie isna her father after all?” Geillis could read her so easily — well, anyone could, according to Jamie.

“Yes. I know I said I didn’t want to talk about it, but what do you think? Is it possible?”

“Of course it’s possible, Claire. But when I look at this beautiful wee lass of yers with her auburn hair and fair skin… well, she reminds me of Jamie. And ye of course, but I know this has to be a mistake.”

Just then the waitress brought over their food, setting it down in front of them.

“Thank you,” Claire said and immediately grabbed her fork and twirled a string of pasta around it. “You’re probably right. Always are,” she smirked. “I’m just going crazy waiting! The good thing is that Jamie will take another paternity test today and we should have the results by the end of the week. Then we can figure out what to do next.”

“Ye two have a good plan, and a good lawyer behind ye. Don’t worry, Claire. It’ll all work out, ye’ll see,” Geillis smiled.

They both ate their meals, talking of work and random things other than the biggest issue in Claire’s life. Claire was so grateful that she had Geillis in her life. Without her, she might not have ever met Jamie — if she hadn’t been so persistent in making her come with her to the whisky opening.

“You know…” Claire took a sip of water. “I never really thanked you properly for dragging me out to Lallybroch for the whisky launch.”

“I don’t believe ye did,” Geillis smirked, still holding Madeline in her lap. “But I take yer thanks and say yer welcome, lass!”

Claire laughed, wrapping both her arms around herself. “I just can’t imagine my life without Madeline… without Jamie. You’ve helped me so much, Geillis. You were there for me when I needed somewhere to go and you took me in.”

“That’s what friends do,” Geillis responded with a smile and took her hand over the table, squeezing it lightly. “And now ye owe me a huge favor for basically makin’ yer life amazing…”

“Hmmm? I suppose I do and I know you always cash in on your favors,” Claire laughed.

“Can I break up my huge favor into small ones?”

“I guess,” Claire shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”

Madeline started squirming, reaching for Geillis’ chest, hungry for her own lunch. “Oh, no lass. Nothin’ is comin’ out of these, I’m afraid.”

“Hand the little miss over,�� Claire smiled and took Mads from Geillis, then adjusted her on her lap so that she could feed her. Thankfully, she didn’t get any strange looks from anyone in the restaurant… besides, it was just a breast.

“Ye ken that sexy red dress ye have? The one that’s low cut in the front and hugs yer curves in all the right places?”

That exact dress was hanging up in Claire’s closet right now with the price tag still on it. A dress she had purchased on a whim while out shopping with Geillis months ago and hadn’t found a chance to wear.

“Yes, the same dress I haven’t even worn,” she smirked. “What about it?”

“I was just wonderin’ if I could perhaps borrow it… for a date?” Geillis smiled over her glass, her brows raised.

“A date?!” Claire’s mouth dropped. Geillis wasn’t usually the type who went out on dates, she was more the one-night kind of girl. Maybe that’s where Claire got her influence from…

“Yes,” her friend blushed, a deep crimson creeping up her fair cheeks. “And… well, tis with a lass. Her name is Lily and she works in the NICU.”

“Oh, this is different,” Claire nodded. “Is she the one with the short blonde hair? The one that I always see trying to get your attention?”

Her friend blushed more, which was very unlike Geillis. She was usually so confident and carefree, not getting caught up with dating and especially not with a co-worker. “The very one. And caught my attention she did. Ye ken that I lean towards both men and women, but never actually gone on a date with a woman before. I’m really nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” Claire tsked. “She’ll love you, Geillis. You’re an absolute catch and a half. And yes, of course you can borrow my red dress. Just make sure it doesn’t get wrinkled when it ends up on the floor!”

Geillis gasped and lightly hit Claire on the arm. “I told myself I wouldna sleep wi’ her on the first date!”

“That, I will have to see to believe,” Claire laughed. Madeline finished up her lunch and Claire pulled her shirt down and started to burp her over her shoulder. “What time is it?”

Pulling out her phone, the Scot checked the time. “Nearly 1:00. When’s yer appointment?”

“3:15,” Claire replied. “But I should probably head back home now and put her down for a nap. The DNA Centre isn’t far from our house.”

“Aye, do that. I should probably get back to work.” Geillis stood up from the table. “Yer so lucky yer still partially on maternity leave. I suppose I’ll have to get myself a baby!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Claire laughed and stood from the table, preparing to make the journey home with a sleeping baby.

Geillis hugged her goodbye and they parted ways.

“Do you like your Auntie Geillis?” Claire asked Mads as she buckled the car seat in. “She’s a bit wild, but she loves you.”

++++++

Claire had been so tired yesterday afternoon, that as soon as she came back with Madeline and fed her, she’d fallen asleep. And then she woke to find Jamie and ended the night in bed with him. Therefore, she had completely forgotten about searching the name Mary Hawkins.

She needed to meet Jamie at the DNA Centre with Mads in two hours, which gave her just enough time to search Mary’s name while Madeline took a nap. The name was familiar to her and she was positive she’d first heard it from Frank, but she couldn’t quite remember why.

Sitting down at her desk in their study, Claire typed in the name, but the only results that came up were articles about the opening of Hawkins Laboratory four years ago. Thank God for social media. Frank didn’t have any kind of social media accounts, and he had constantly reminded Claire that too much time on her phone would fry her brain.

In a matter of seconds, Claire found who she was looking for.

Mary.Hawkins: 21 “C’est la vie”

Scrolling past pictures of food and sunsets, Claire sat stunned when she found something that chilled her to the bone. It was a picture from three years ago at Christmas. In the picture, Mary sat beside the tree, and sitting beside her was Frank.

When she clicked on the picture to see who else was tagged, another name popped up. A young man that looked an awful lot like Frank. His username was Randall_Alexander, Frank’s youngest brother.

Three years ago, Claire had been scheduled to work the Christmas shift and couldn’t get out of it. She told Frank to go home to his family and that she would be busy, probably not even realizing it was Christmas.

Claire remembered the name Mary Hawkins. Frank had told her that his brother had started dating a girl named Mary and had brought her to meet everyone. Things got busy for both of them and Claire had actually never met Alex Randall. And therefore, she had never met Alex’s girlfriend, Mary. The same Mary Hawkins that works at Hawkins Laboratory.

“That bastard,” Claire muttered, and took a screenshot of the photo to show Jamie later. She knew something wasn’t right and she would bet her life on the fact that Frank had asked a favor from this Mary Hawkins.

To confirm her suspicions, Claire went back to the Hawkins Laboratory website in search for a photo of Mary. There on the “About” section was a group photo of all the staff. Mary was petite and had a mousy face, but Claire had no doubt that it was the same young girl.

What she wanted to do was contact her, to reach out to her and find out the truth, but Claire knew that Mary wouldn’t tell her anything — especially not if Frank had bribed her to lie. It was frustrating, to know that this was all a lie; but without any hard proof, nothing could be done.

Hard proof they could get, however, would come from the new paternity test Jamie was about to take. When those results came back to them in two days, they would know for certain their next steps. All Claire had to do now was be patient… and patience wasn’t her strongest suit right now.

Walking in to check on Madeline, Claire saw she was still asleep and figured she could manage a quick shower before meeting Jamie at the DNA Centre. As she stepped under the hot water, letting it wash away all her troubles, Claire thanked God once again that she was no longer with Frank, but with an honorable and loving man. Her Jamie.

++++++

He was waiting for them in the lobby of the DNA Centre, his fingers tapping a rhythm against his leg. Jamie met her eye and smiled, the lines of worry on his forehead disappearing.

“Sassenach.” He kissed her hello and then picked up Madeline from her pram. “How’s yer day been?”

“Oh, I have some news for you!” Claire said as she took a seat next to him, waiting for their name to be called. Jamie cradled Madeline in his arms, staring down at her beautiful face. “So remember how I told you I thought the name Hawkins sounded really familiar?”

“Aye, just two days ago…”

“Jesus H., has it just been two days?” Claire took a deep breath, running her hand over her face, feeling like she’d aged tremendously in the last week. “Well, when I called the lab yesterday, the woman I spoke to gave me the name Mary Hawkins — saying she was the one to handle our case.”

“And what did ye find out, a nighean?”

Claire placed her hand on Jamie’s arm, squeezing it a little. “I searched for Mary on Instagram and found a picture of her with Frank’s family from three years ago at Christmas.”

“What?” Jamie looked up at her, his eyes wide. “This Mary kens Frank’s family?”

“She’s dating Alexander Randall, Frank’s youngest brother who I’ve never met. At least I think they’re still dating, that’s what her latest post indicated…” Claire rambled. “So, I would bet my life that Frank used his connections at this lab with Mary to somehow change the results.”

“Taing Dhia!” Jamie smiled and then kissed Claire. “Ye ken that if we get the results back and they say I’m Mad’s father… and now with this connection to Mary, Claire,” he looked at her, determination in his eyes. “We might have enough evidence to file a claim against them. Against the lab for tampering with the results and against Frank for bribing them.”

“As much as I don’t want this to go into a long drawn-out legal battle, I think you’re right. It’s what we need to do to stop all of this. If they tampered with our results, maybe the lab has done this kind of thing before,” Claire questioned. She wanted to say more, but they were called back to a small room for the test.

“The doctor will be wi’ ye in just a minute,” said the nurse and left the three of them alone, waiting.

“They just need a swab, right?” Jamie looked down at her. “Like the last time?”

“Yeah, that’s all they should need, just some spit.” Claire stroked Madeline’s cheek.

The door opened and the doctor walked in, a short frog-faced-looking man that shook both of their hands. “Hello, are you the Frasers?”

“Aye, I’m Jamie Fraser and this is my fiancé, Claire soon to be a Fraser,” Jamie smiled. “And this is Madeline…”

“She is a beautiful child,” said the doctor with a thick French accent. “My name is Doctor Raymond, I’ll be helping you with your paternity test today.”

“Thank you so much, we appreciate you being able to work us into your schedule on such short notice,” Claire smiled. She felt instantly comfortable with Doctor Raymond, as if she’d known him for a long time.

“It is my pleasure, Madonna,” he smiled at her and then put on his latex gloves. “For accurate results we just need a swab from the bébé’s cheek as well as from the father.”

It took all of two minutes for both cheek swabs to be taken, and Claire held Madeline’s hand the whole time. Thankfully, she had also remembered to bring Madeline’s favorite stuffed bunny toy, keeping it close by her daughter the whole time. Madeline didn’t fuss when Doctor Raymond opened her mouth and stuck the swab in, only looked at him curiously.

Claire watched as Doctor Raymond labeled both samples and put them in a larger bag to be sent in for testing. “And we’ll hear back in two days? Also, I’d like to confirm it is the court-approved test that is being done?”

“Oh, yes my dear, you will have everything you need in a matter of days,” the doctor said and then took her hand. “Everything will work out just as you want it to, Madonna.”

“Thank ye, Doctor,” Jamie nodded his head and then bundled the blanket around Madeline. Doctor Raymond said goodbye and led them out of the room and around the corner where they paid for the appointment. It wasn’t cheap, as it was the second time they’d done this, but it was worth every cent.

“That doctor was a bit odd, no?” Jamie said as they walked out to their cars.

“I don’t think so,” Claire smiled. She liked the odd man, he was kind and very compassionate. “I liked him, and I think Madeline did too.”

“Well, he is French so…” Jamie smirked.

“Ha ha,” Claire laughed and then took back Madeline from Jamie. She immediately started to squirm in Claire’s arms. “What? You don’t want Mama anymore?”

“She loves her Da,” Jamie grinned. “I’ll see ye both at home for dinner.” He first kissed Madeline’s head and then Claire’s lips. “It’ll work out, Sassenach. Just as the weird doctor said it would.”

“I think it will, Jamie,” Claire smiled against his lips. “I really think it will.”

At least she hoped it would.

Chapter 20: Sick Day

#the oath #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #jamie x claire #chapter 19 #round two #oath #outlander #jamie fraser #claire fraser #madeline fraser #curlsgetdemgurls

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gizmomilly · 5 years ago

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This is the Jamie of so many fanfics! At least in my head anyway...but with socks... 😉@missclairebelle @notevenjokingfic @desperationandgin @curlsgetdemgurls

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ao3feed-jamiexclaire · 5 years ago

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by curlsgetdemgurls

Recently divorced, Claire Beauchamp decides not to wallow on Christmas, and with the help of her friend Geillis, she finds a cozy cabin called Fraser's Ridge in the Highlands of Scotland. There she meets the owner, Jamie Fraser and things get rather... blue.

Words: 13112, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander & Related Fandoms

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Jamie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp, Murtagh Fraser, Geillis Duncan, Adso (Outlander), Jenny Fraser

Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser

Additional Tags: Christmas!, Lumberjack!Jamie, Cozy, Only One Bed, Frostbite

#ao3feed #fanfic #outlander #outlander fanfiction #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser

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ashmarie1687 · 4 years ago

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⭐️ Merry Christmas Eve!! Sharing one of my favorite smutty Christmas one shots, written last year by curlsgetdemgurls! ⭐️

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander & Related Fandoms Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser Characters: Jamie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp, Murtagh Fraser, Geillis Duncan, Adso (Outlander), Jenny Fraser Additional Tags: Christmas!, Lumberjack!Jamie, Cozy, Only One Bed, Frostbite Summary:

#one shot #christmas #Jamie and claire #fan fic

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beauchamp-fraser · 6 years ago

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So I’ve recently hit 1.2k followers which is crazy! I just wanted to do this follow forever because you guys mean so much to me. Most of you have been here since my blog was nothing but Outlander and your still here after my blog became multifandom trash. But Outlander will still always be dear to me and is still the heart of this blog. I just wanted to thank every single one of you and know how much I appreciate you. xx Norma

♥ mackayla-lane ♥ curlsgetdemgurls ♥ breeefraser ♥ weeintrovertedfangirl ♥ three-drink-amy ♥ gal-gadot ♥ tzaharasykes ♥ joyce-byers ♥ danieljradcliffe ♥ frasersjamieclaire ♥ theministerskat ♥ pevtonsawyers ♥ nordic-sassenach ♥ caitbalfes ♥ dailystrangerthings ♥ clairebeauchemp ♥ ladyoldstones ♥ lunaslvgoods ♥ russobill ♥ scoops-ahoy ♥ henricavyll ♥ celestemiddlleton ♥ briannasroger ♥ breefrasers ♥ breefraser ♥ cherlysblossoms ♥ skywalkersleia ♥ sassenachlife ♥ lucifer-chloe ♥ jemscorner ♥ queens-clarke ♥ abreathofsnowandwaffles ♥ vanessacarlysle ♥ loganhowltt ♥ doctorclairefraser ♥ julesbeauchamp ♥

#outlander #outlander fandom #outlanderedit #norma talks #there's a lot of other blogs but most of them are inactive :\#to my followers

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pondernce · 6 years ago

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Behind Closed Doors: Chapter 3

A/N: So this thing keeps getting longer and longer, so this chapter is really the first half. But anyway, I hope you enjoy! Big thanks to @julesbeauchamp (even in her absence :( ) and @curlsgetdemgurls for their support and encouragement to actually write the thing!!!

Chapter 3

After her escape to the eastern Mediterranean, Claire had been lucky enough to find not only a flat in London, but a roommate who soon became one of her closest—and only—friends. Geillis Duncan was everything Claire was not, at least when it came to her personal life. The door to her room seemed constantly revolving and Claire couldn’t fault the scot for it. She only questioned how a physician had so much time to find all those gorgeous men.

Geillis tried to share the wealth, so to speak, to get Claire to take her up on her offers to head to this pub, that opening, or this party. Normally she refused. But seeing James Fraser again warranted more than a mere bottle of Rioja on her couch.

And that was how she found herself slightly tipsy and tugging on a dress she hadn’t worn in ages. It’s fitted frame clung to her chest in a way she normally avoided (aided by one of Geillis’ push up bras), and grabbed hold of her hips, nipped in as it was at the waist. Claire had always loved the dress. It made her feel like a vintage star, gossamer bell sleeves and dramatic cleavage, despite the more modest hemline. She slipped on her heels and looked up when Geillis wolf whistled.

“And here I thought I’d have to help ye, but my my. Ye clean up well, Beauchamp. Pity ye’ve a closet full of jumpers.”

Claire rolled her eyes and attempted to ruffle her curls into a slightly less bent shape. She really should have taken her bun out ages ago. “Oh sod off, my jumpers are flattering. I’m teaching now, I can’t get away with… this. I’m surprised you can at the clinic!”

In truth, she knew it was out of character for her to get so dressed up. The few times in the last months she had been out with her roommate, she’d worn jeans and a fitted jumper, or perhaps a blouse and jacket. Never a dress. And certainly no heels. Seeing him today had reminded her what it felt like to be wanted like that. She tried not to think about that time often, but when lost in those deep blue eyes she couldn’t help it. She’d been almost squirming, torn between desire and discomfort, in her bloody classroom.

With a huff, Claire looked back at Geillis. “I just… I wanted to get out. Maybe finally partake in the fun. It’s been—“

“Aye, far too long! But ye don’t need to excuse yerself. I just wish ye’d tell me what happened today. Usually, I’m the one asking ye to come out.”

The memory of ruffled red curls caressing tanned shoulders flashed before her eyes, and Claire failed to shake the ghost from her mind. “I um…” she could feel the flush on her cheeks, creeping down her neck and dangerously low along her bodice. “I just need a night out. You know?”

Geillis hummed, seeming to give in. Although her gaze gave away her suspicions. “Well then. We’ve a new place to try. Somewhere hopefully we willna find any of yer students!” Laughing, she spun out of the room and grabbed her coat, impatiently urging her roommate along.

With a last gulp of her wine and a final tussle of her hair, Claire followed her out of the flat in a cloud of perfume and the clicking of towering heels.

—-

“Ye seem a bit lost there…” Jamie called out, leaning against the slightly crumbling wall of one of Nicosia’s many ancient buildings. In the late afternoon sun, the city wasn’t exactly bustling with life, but the old town still boasted shops and stalls, among which he’d found this gorgeously out of place creature. She turned and for a moment he was entirely lost in the startling hue of her eyes. Not brown, just shy of gold. Fine whiskey through a crystal cut glass, sparkling back at him.

She looked surprised, those eyes wide in her slightly flushed face. “I’m sorry? I’m not lost, just wandering around… playing tourist. Aren’t you?” The crisp vowels of her posh accent were in such contrast to her own, and he wondered if she was as confused as he.

“A Sassenach? And ye ended up touring the city alone?” His tone softened, even as he stood up off the wall and stepped a bit closer to her. Jamie was no monk, but he’d never understood the need some in his company felt to relentlessly chase after girls, to take them home every time they had leave. Perhaps he would have had he ever seen her. “Dinna take that the wrong way, aye? I’m wandering alone myself. Just nae a tourist.”

She nodded, held her ground, and for that Jamie felt all the more entranced. “You’re hardly from here. I’ve lived in Edinburgh, I recognize a Scot.” She smirked a little, those eyes dancing at him, challenging him. “And I know Sassenach is not a nice name.”

“I meant ye nae offence,” he laughed, shaking his head softly. A few sun-bleached curls fell over his brow. They hadn’t been this long since before he enlisted. But in recovery here among the medical corps and troops on loan to the UN Peacekeepers, no one cared if Colonel Fraser’s hair grew out.

“Just… Well ye confused me there, an English lass here. And ye did seem lost. This street goes nowhere, just takes ye to a plaza with no exits and a very cranky old woman.” He winked, or he tried to.

It made her laugh and shake her head, the blush on her cheeks growing. “I wanted to see the city, although the beaches are lovely….” she looked up at him and he saw her debate with herself, and give in. “My uncle is an archaeologist, so I grew up quite familiar with ruins. I couldn’t pass up a day trip here. Now, what is a Scot doing in Nicosia?”

Filled with curiosity akin to wonder, Jamie’s smile grew. “Ye’ll have to tell me more about that…” he pushed his hand through his hair, watched her eyes flick to the flex of his bicep. “I’m on leave from the military. There’s a couple of bases here, and it’s a better vacation than a Scottish spring.”

They talked and walked (out of the dead-end little land and along wider streets, up narrow allies and to the parapets of the ancient walls), and he relished every word that fell from her lips. At sundown he convinced her, rather easily, to join him at a small restaurant. He tried to show off, ordering in Turkish, only for the woman to roll her eyes at him and make sure Claire got what she wanted too, her English accented but clear.

Jamie learned so much about this strange woman, and also so little. She spoke of her travels and her uncles and of the myriad of places she’d lived. Of her hobby in botany and alternative medicine that was rapidly becoming a career. But never truly of herself. His curiosity lingered.

Claire touched him first, taking his hand as they sipped their wine, letting her foot tap his under the table.

It was all too easy to fall. To forget.

He kissed her outside the bistro, and along the walls. She kissed him against the Famagusta Gate, pressed her petite frame to his, molded herself against him. In those moments, they both were lost.

“Come back with me,” Claire murmured it, looking up at him almost upside-down, her back to his front and his arms guarding her against the soft breeze. “I have to get a ride back Kayalar... “ she looked up at him, turning out of his embrace. There in the shadow of Girne Kapısı, Jamie imprinted the image of her in his mind forever.

“Aye, I’ll come,” his smile was flirtatious, his hands wrapping her hips and drawing her back against him. “How could I say no to ye?”

—-

Jamie glanced around the packed bar with a small sigh. Every inch of the place was crammed with uni students, eager to celebrate the start of the year, the return to their mates, and their newfound freedoms. John was among them, dancing between two girls with abandon. The lad could move, Jamie had to admit that. His slightly outrageous dancing and warm smile had drawn girls and blokes all night. It had been fun until those girls started circling him as well.

“Are you starting this year as well?” Perky brunette number three, a friend of blond number two, smiled up at him. He had to credit them for being bold and confident. No use in squashing that, so he finished his beer and nodded.

“Aye. In law.” he looked a bit bored, glanced back at John, and then down at the girl. “Sorry, what did ye say you were studying?”

She pursed her lips. Good, better she thinks him an arse than doubt herself. “Nursing. I think. My sister does it and she likes it well enough.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. Christ, even the batting of her lashes.

He needed to get out of here.

Holding up his pint so she could see its sorry state, Jamie nodded to the bar. “Excuse me…”

There was no refuge there, crammed against the counter and fighting for the attention of the older man behind the counter. A bloke slammed into his shoulder, sputtering an apology and nearly spilling his drink. “Careful aye?” Jamie sighed, helping the lad right himself. He felt so bloody old standing there, slightly too sober and having none of the chaos around him.

As he closed out he finally got John to look at him. “I’m heading out!” hopefully his motioning to the door was enough to make it clear, but he was sure he wouldn’t be missed.

Outside he could at least get his bearings, shake the ringing of the base from his ears and take a proper breath. The night was still early and so he walked, taking in the area around Kings. In truth, he’d never explored London. He’d never explored much in any place, except for one glorious day in the Eastern Mediterranean. He couldn’t think of that, of her, now.

With a sigh, he turned up a street and spotted a calmer, near empty bar sporting the sort of plush leather couch his flat sorely lacked. Perfect. Whiskey on the mind, the former soldier wandered in and up to the bar. For a moment he simply waited, staring at the polished copper bar top, and a pair of delicate, feminine hands resting on it. “Whiskey neat,” he murmured, “Glen Moray, if ye’ve it.” He assumed they did, given the bottles covered the wall behind the man.

Settled in his waiting, Jamie almost missed the soft gasp of the woman to his left. “Sorry, did I bump ye--” he stopped, lost for the second time that day to the melt of her whiskey eyes. “Claire?”

Without thinking he reached out to grab her upper arm. It was meant to be reassuring but he watched her almost flinch away.

“Jamie,” she smiled, something brittle and fractured. “Why aren’t you out with... “

“All the other children celebrating the start of the term?” He arched a brow and laughed softly. “I’m nae a kid, Claire. Hardly younger than ye, ye ken.”

“I know. I know that…” she bit her lip, and all Jamie could think was of how terribly he wanted to replace her teeth with his own.

The bar was nearly empty, only the soft clink of glasses and the quiet murmur of a few patrons surrounded them, muffled by the rich hardwood and supple fabrics of the furnishings. It was intimate, posh. An absolute contrast to the airy furnishings of the room they’d shared that night in Cyprus.

As the silence stretched on, Claire found her words. “I never expected to see you again. You said you were going back to war,” her eyes refused to settle on his, dancing about the room. “You said a lot of things, actually. Nothing that promised you’d ever be in London.” The opposite, in fact.

Jamie waited, registering the pain in her voice and the guilt that flared up, not unlike the old wounds he’d sustained in the war. “Aye, I did. I was a coward then, I’ll admit that. But seeing ye again…” He smiled, stepped closer to her, almost taking the last of her space. The polished metal bevel of the bar prevented her from backing away. “Seeing ye again is more than I allowed myself to dream of, Sassenach.”

Her heart leaping into her throat, Claire finally met his eyes. “You left.”

“I had to. I couldn’t be in that room with ye and face the future I’d signed up to, having met ye… Knowing that I could have so much more than a life at war. Christ Claire, ye ken how I felt about ye!”

The bartender glanced between them as he set Jamie’s whiskey down, arching a brow. The aggravated whispering had evidently caught his attention. “Everythin’ alright over here? Do you need another martini, miss?”

She shook her head, breaking her gaze with Jamie and abandoning the words resting on her tongue. “No. Thank you, really. Excuse me,” flustered, she pushed past him and Jamie let her go. Against his better judgment, he let her go again. He watched unmoving as she all but speed-walked to the other side of the bar and a pretty redhead in a booth. When they got up to leave he sighed and sipped his whiskey, finally settling at the bar.

—-

‘We need to go,” Claire’s heart was still pounding in her chest as she fought to process Jamie’s words. That night she had been the one to open her heart, to let him see all the shadows in herself along with the light. She’d trusted him, foolishly, and he’d never shown that for him it might have been too much. Not until the next evening. For him to admit to feeling… well, she assumed he felt the same as she did.

And it was terrifying.

“What?” Geillis frowned, glancing at her empty glass. “Ye went to get more drinks and now we’ve got to go? What happened, Claire?”

“I’ll explain but can we just go, please? I’ll explain at home.”

“Ye better. Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”

She pursed her lips as she shrugged on her coat. “Perhaps I have. It feels like it.”

Although Claire was normally grateful for the proximity of their flat to everything, including Geillis’ preferred cocktail lounge, but at the moment she wished for more time. Processing that night, and Jamie’s declaration would take longer than the three blocks offered. Lost in her thought, she almost missed their door entirely.

“Claire,” she felt Geillis’ hand on her arm, guiding her into the door. “Alright, spill. I willna be sitting here for these dramatics. There canna be two drama queens in this house, love.”

G always was dramatic, as fiery as her red hair, while Claire was the voice of reason. Despite their close friendship over the last two years, she rarely confided in Geillis about her past. Over the years she’d admitted the whole debacle with Frank, why she ran from Boston. But she’d kept mum about Jamie. And why? Why was he, for all the brevity of their time together, so much more significant? Perhaps because that day was the first time Claire had ever felt truly seen for herself, and that night the only time she’d ever felt so thoroughly worshipped. Or worshipped at all.

“I ran into someone at the bar. A student of mine,” she watched Geillis grin and shook her head. “G, focus. Yes, he’s gorgeous, but it’s more than that.” Claire slipped off her heels as she sat on the couch, drawing her knees to her chest.

“I met him before, when I spent time with my uncles after leaving Frank. I’d taken a week for myself while they were on a dig, took a trip over to the Turkish side of Cyprus.” She sighed, almost wistfully. “It’s such a beautiful island. It was supposed to be a trip for myself, alone, to heal from what happened with Frank--”

“But ye met a man,” Geillis nodded, coming back into the living room with two drams of whiskey.

Accepting the liquor gratefully, she nodded. “I did. Jamie. He was a soldier on medical leave, for a month or so there… He never truly said what had happened to him, only that he was in Afghanistan. But the scars… God, G, his back had to have been completely torn apart. They were still healing when we met.”

She closed her eyes, recalling the feeling of his back under her hands, the strong muscle marred by deep gauges, some still red and angry even in the half-light of the moon. “He never told me much about himself at all, actually. I suppose I didn’t realize that until it was over. But I told him everything, G, things I’ve never told anyone. And he didn’t just listen. He made me feel… loved.” she blushed, shaking her head.

“I’m a fucking idiot, aren’t I? I fell in love with a man I knew for one day,” she scoffed, tipping the rest of the whiskey down her throat in one gulp. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I thought he felt the same! I can’t explain it, but it seemed like… there was something there.”

Claire seemed to deflate then, resting her cheek on her knees as her eyes closed. “I’d never felt shame like that. Not for having a one night stand, but for giving so much of myself-- of my trust-- to someone who could just walk out of my life.”

#behind closed doors #outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fic #outlander fanfiction #jamie & claire #my fic

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 5 years ago

Text

EDINBURGH TO BOSTON - CHAPTER 15 - AN EXAMINATION OF CONSCIENCE

Good evening all! As promised here is Chapter 15 of Edinburgh to Boston. This picks up right after Chapter 14. Our lovebirds grappling with the argument they had. As the title implies there is a lot of soul searching going to happen.

At the end, I will include some interesting information. At least, I think it’s interesting. I do need to thank my betas for their magnificent and tireless help, suggestions, and comments. Thank you @curlsgetdemgurls and @scubalass. You guys keep me on my toes and push me to do my best. Honestly, a lot of work on the part of @scubaless went into this and unjumbled the mess I made at times. How do I thank @curlsgetdemgurls who always tells me I can do this and supports my desire to write. I am truly blessed to have you both. I honestly don’t know how I would do this without you. 🧡🧡🧡🧡

As always I welcome any thoughts suggestions, comments you would like to share with me.I hope you enjoy reading. Without further ado I give you:

Edinburgh To Boston

Chapter 15

An Examination of Conscience

***********

Click!

Claire stood mutely watching as the door closed with a muffled and insubstantial sound. Biting her upper lip, she watched the handle for any sign of movement. She fully expected it would reopen momentarily and Jamie would walk through. Nothing happened. With the bolt slipping into place, it created a barrier as strong as any prison wall between her and the man she loved.

She didn’t know what to do. Should she go after him or call him? At the edge of her vision, she caught a glimpse of his phone resting on the bedside table along with his wallet and money. “Idiot bloody man,” she huffed. She had no choice other than to wait. Maybe it would turn out for the best allowing him time to sort through his thoughts. Perhaps they both needed a little time away from each other to calm down and become more rational.

What a bloody mess this turned out to be. If Claire was honest with herself, she never expected that it would come to this, that he would leave. She fully believed that they would have a loud and impassioned fight concluding with...what? Forgiveness? Compromise? Possibly the dissolution of their tender three-day-old relationship? At this point, she didn’t know what to think.

Needing a distraction, Claire began to set the room right. Taking a large bath sheet, she wiped up the spilled whisky and the broken crystal discarding everything into a wastebasket. Jamie’s still sodden jeans rested on the floor where he had discarded them earlier anxious to crawl into the warm bed and into a still warmer Claire. “Ye ken the fastest way to warm up is with body heat,” he murmured erotically against her ear. She did know and had shivered in anticipation of his intention.

Her jeans and jumper left a trail from the door to the bed. The lacey black bra that he removed, lay on the floor. Her skimpy panties drooped from one of the four posts of the bed, like a flag hanging limply in a windless sky.

She felt like a live wire skittering across the ground shooting off sparks. Remaining on edge and unable to concentrate, she padded around the room picking things up and putting them down. Every little noise or echo of a footfall in the hallway drew her attention. “He’ll be back, won’t he?” she said to herself.

Scanning the room she saw reminders of him wherever she looked. His shaving kit, suit, shoes, jeans, jumper, cologne. She ran her hand over his things aching with the need to connect to him. His touch, his scent, his look. The room felt empty. Not because of the lack of his physicality in the space, but from his essence. Jamie filled a space with his being. Claire suddenly felt lonely. She missed him already - terribly.

Exhaling a huge sigh, she walked over to the window, peering down at the street. She had a very strange sensation that Jamie just might be standing down there next to a lamppost looking up at the window. From her perch high above the street, she had a commanding view of the area around the hotel. The street was devoid of people. Not even a taxi cruised around looking for passengers. Even though Claire knew that it a foolish thought, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed she didn’t see him standing there. She rubbed the glabella, the tender skin between her eyebrows, in an effort to thwart a beginning headache.

Relationships are complicated things, she considered. For Claire, relationships were hard for her because she has trust issues. A gift courtesy of one Frank Randall. She gave him her heart, love, and trust only to have him toss everything carelessly away like a worn-out, useless, old shoe. She was hurt, betrayed, and doubtful to ever trust another man again. And then Jamie Fraser walks into her life. After working with him for over a year, she knew him as a kind, thoughtful, gentle, considerate, loving man.

In spite of their close working relationship, Claire continued to hold back her feelings, her trust. She knew Jamie to be a good man and it wasn’t that she didn’t trust him because she did. Well, professionally she trusted him implicitly. Personally, she did but... Maybe it’s because she feared how he would judge her if he knew the whole truth. Whatever the case, she thought he deserved someone better than her. She didn’t blame him for leaving after the way she treated him. Truth be told, she all but forced him out after insinuating that he was to blame for what happened.

Claire knew that Frank had been watching them. He admitted it to her. ‘I’ve been watching you with him all night. What the fuck do you see in that Neanderthal?’ She also knew that Frank observing her with Jamie fanned the flames of his jealousy. He always had been a jealous and possessive man. Come to think of it, Claire refected, this is just like the time he almost thrashed poor Albert, the young assistant professor that had the misfortune of spending time with and talking with her.

Albert took pleasure at her admiring his wit. Frank watched from the sidelines following her every move, smile, or laugh. He watched and drank, drank and watched until sufficiently drunk enough to physically menace the younger faculty member. Dragging her out of the party, he called her every vile name he could think of slut, whore, tramp bringing tears to her eyes. “You're mine, Claire. I don’t share well. You are my wife and you had better act like it. Don’t do it again,” he threatened. “Or so help me, I’ll…” He raised his hand to strike her. “Or you’ll do what Frank, beat me?” she called his bluff and succeeded. He dropped his hand grabbed her and pulled her to their car.

She exhaled deeply and walked away from the window. Claire knew that neither she nor Jamie could have changed what happened in the restaurant. Frank, hellbent on creating trouble, would have followed them determined to create mayhem.

She knew deep in her heart she wronged Jamie. Letting her anger get the better of her, she created a wedge between them. She knew she needed to admit her mistakes and tell the truth about her life with Frank. He needed to understand. No more secrets. No more lies.

Claire yawned and stretched feeling overwhelming fatigue settle over her. She hadn’t slept much since they arrived in Boston. It became an emotional roller coaster fueled from jetlag, too much alcohol, the newfound intimacy with Jamie and the disaster in the restaurant. No wonder she felt exhausted. She decided to rest while waiting for Jamie to return. Spying one of the tee shirts he had recently worn, she walked over picked it up and inhaled deeply. It smelled of him. Heady, musky, woodsy with a slight undertone of citrus from his aftershave. Claire pulled off her sleep shirt and put his on. It was too big, baggy, and shapeless on her small frame. Running her hands over the fabric, she felt the softness of it from frequent use. She climbed into the bed, breathing in his scent. She pretended that instead of his shirt wrapped around her, she lay enveloped in his arms and protected by his body. I’ll make it right. I must. Slowly she drifted off to sleep.

**********************************

Ding!

The elevator door slid open with a soft whoosh permitting Jamie Fraser to step in. Entering the lift, he leaned against the glass wall dropping his head back to rest against the cool slick surface. He needed to get away, clear his mind, try to figure things out.

An enigma. A puzzle. A mystery. How else to describe Claire? Damn the woman. He only wanted to offer her comfort, tenderness. Instead, she turned away from him. She says one thing I love you and only you and then she rejects him. Why would she do that? Frustrating. Infuriating. Confusing.

He sought oblivion. Tonight was a double-edged sword. On one hand, he wanted to understand what was happening with his Sassenach. Then, again, he wanted to forget and to reduce the memory of this evening to ashes. Raising the bottle of whisky to his lips, he drank deep. The spirit slipped across his tongue cascading down his throat followed by its familiar burn.

The door slid open allowing Jamie to exit into the main lobby. He strode past the reception desk.

“Dr. Fraser, can I be of assistance?” The pretty receptionist inquired.

“Thank ye kindly lass, but no.” His face appeared slightly flushed.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to call a car for you. It’s quite cold out. Definitely not a night to be on foot.”

“I’m a Highlander, born and bred. I’m used to the cold, ye ken?” With that, he exited through the hotel’s sliding doors into the fridge embrace of a Bostonian winter. Jamie searched the pockets of his jacket for his cap and gloves finding neither. He also discovered he neglected to bring his wallet, money, or phone. “I’ll do,” he muttered to himself. Mercifully, his jacket had a hood which he pulled up over his head while cramming his hands, carefully, into his pockets. His bottle of whisky tucked into a pocket inside his jacket.

Lacking familiarity with Boston, he wondered where he should go, though it really didn’t matter. He was not out to sightsee but out to clear his head.

Taking another long drink from the bottle, he turned to his left and began to walk, then jog, eventually running without direction. He slipped and slid on the black ice, tumbling into a snowbank laughing at his own foolishness. He was drunk, very drunk, he thought as he took another big gulp of the whisky. His Da always said, “Yer never drunk if ye can still stand up.” And he was still standing, albeit with the assistance of the snowbank, but standing he was.

Jamie found himself back at Boston Commons where he spent the day with Claire. He walked slowly through the whispering white silence of the park looking at the places where they had gone. The park had an ethereal feel to it. Streetlamps cast shadows across the park’s snow-encrusted expanse giving shape and form to the spectors hiding in the gloom. Evergreen trees, tall, imposing, majestic released their sharp piney tang around him. Deciduous trees with branches bare, naked without their leaves, covered with smatterings of snow or encased in ice. The wind howled through the trees causing clumps of snow to drop around him. At night, the park became a desolate place reflecting the wretchedness of his soul.

He came across the spot where they met the sparrow family. Collapsing onto the cold bench, he found himself surrounded by the memories of the day.

“The lass has ye twisted around her wee finger, ye ken? Ye even speak to birds if it makes her happy. She’s even gotten you to believe that they have the souls of her dead family,” he snorted. He sat there shaking his head. “What wouldn’t ye do for her? Nuthin’. Then why is this so hard? If she doesna want to have the scoundrel arrested, then let her have it. She has her reason, Fraser. Ye trust her word, do ye no’? Aye, I do. Then leave her be. She’ll tell ye why when she’s ready or when she can.”

“Remember lad, she’s been hurt.” Harry had said. “Be gentle wi’ her.”

“Aye, ‘tis all true, but why did she no’ discuss this agreement she made with me first? I mean we’re supposed to be partners.” His fingers tapped out a rhythmic tattoo against his thigh as he sat in contemplation. “Ye ken the reason, ye eejit. Ye would have said no. She did this for ye, tae protect ye. Tae sacrifice herself for ye. No’ because she loves the man. She loves ye enough tae do such a thing.”

Jamie knew all this within his innermost heart, but he still wanted justice for her. He did not want to be the one causing her to lose that chance.

“Besides,” he told himself, “ye heard her, she blames me for what happened. For failing tae protect her, for leaving her for,” he choked, “no’ being the man she needs.” Abruptly he realized that he also broke his promise to the bird family.

‘I promise tae see her safe, care for her and love her all the days of my life,’ he vowed to the birds. Jamie slammed his hand down on the bench. “Ifrinn! Fraser, ye are useless, and no’ a man of honor. Ye couldna even keep yer word tae a cluster of sparrows now could ye? If ye canna do something as simple as that, how could ye keep yer word tae Claire? Ye dinna deserve her.” He took another drink, the bottle very nearly empty.

He saw the bird tree just a short distance from where he sat. Feeling the need to apologize, Jamie staggered toward the tree calling out loudly, “If ye can hear me wee birds, I am sorry, sae sorry. I let her down and ye as weel. I’m no’ a man.” He hung his head in shame but quickly his anger rose to the surface.

He unleashed his fury against the tree hitting it hard reinjuring his right hand causing it to become scraped and bleeding. The pain from the single blow shot white-hot up his arm into his oxter. He collapsed into a mound of still soft snow at the base of the conifer. He let loose a torrent of Gàidhlig curses and self-deprecating rants. Hanging his head between his knees, Jamie took a deep breath trying to stem the waves of pain, nausea, and dizziness gripping him. No good. Heaving and retching, his stomach turned itself out of whisky and bile. He felt numb, tired and decidedly less drunk than before.

“What a waste of that verra fine whisky,” he ironically thought as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

It was cold, colder than before. “Weel, yer sitting in the snow, yer no’ dressed for the weather, and yer just vomited up all yer antifreeze, what do ye expect?”

The problem, he considered, came down to where to go. He could go back to the hotel but he did not want to see Claire, just yet. He didn’t have his wallet with his credit card nor did he have any money. As he saw it, he needed to keep moving to stay warm. He stood up with great difficulty. Choosing a random direction, he began to walk. Jamie began to feel better walking. After walking about five blocks he came upon a Church with a brightly lit sign outside.

Cold? Tired? Hungry? Or just need a place for the night? The Lord Loves You. All are welcome!

He looked up and saw a statue of Blessed Michael the Archangel standing guard over the entrance.

“Blessed Michael of the Red Domain defend us,” he thought and knew he had found a safe refuge for the remainder of the night.

Brother Stanislaus Kostka possessed an imposing figure. In his previous life, he was a former naval corpsman serving with a marine unit. He had blonde wavy hair, kind green eyes, and maintained a muscular physique hidden by his simple religious habit. He wore a brown habit with a hood, a cord wound around his waist and sandals. The cincture tied around his waist had the characteristic three knots symbolizing poverty, chastity, and obedience. A black rosary hung from the cingulum completing his attire.

Jamie stood quietly in the back of the shelter, observing the clergyman caring for his flock. The friar had a gentleness and compassionate way that emanated from him. A woman had approached him with a problem, to which he devoted his full attention. After considering and weighing the possible alternatives he smiled and presented his proposal. The woman grinned nodded in acceptance, then moved away.

Looking up he spotted Jamie standing in the doorway waiting to be acknowledged.

Brother Stan turned his attention to Jamie. “How can I help you tonight, my friend?” His smile could warm a person through and through.

“Beggin’ yer pardon, Father, but I need a place to stay for the night,” Jamie apologized.

“It’s Brother, Mr…?”

“Fraser, but ye can call me Jamie.”

“Welcome, Jamie. It seems you had a difficult night so far. You know there is always room at the Lord’s table for one more.” Looking at Jamie he took in his appearance and observed his battered and bruised hand.

“So Mr. Fraser, er Jamie, come with me and let’s get a look at that hand?” He turned away not waiting for an answer. Jamie followed and they walk into a small room both office and treatment room.

“May I ask how you injured your hand?” asked the Brother as he set up what he needed to care for Jamie’s hand.

Jamie looked abashed. “I, ah, had an argument with (what do I call her?) Claire the woman I love. And I got drunk. I needed time to think things over. So, I jogged to the park and my anger got the best of me, and I took it out on a tree.”

Brother Stan went about the task of caring for the wounds removing any splinters that he found.

Jamie hissed as the open areas were cleaned and dressed. “I have two hairline fractures of my right third and fourth fingers. I, um, somehow lost the splints that were there. Could ye make something temporary to put there?”

“How did you acquire the fractures?”

“‘I was in a fight last night defending a friend’s honor. I ken how it sounds like I’m some kinda drunken brawler, but ‘tis no’ true.”

“And would this friend be, Claire?”

“Aye, ‘twas.”

By this time, Brother Stan had cleaned and dressed the wounds. “I see,” he nodded solemnly.

Giving Jamie a direct look, Brother Stan inquired, “You are troubled. How can I help you?”

He considered this offer to help. “Ye can let me into yer chapel to pray and ask the Lord’s guidance.”

“Usually, we don’t allow people in the chapel alone at night.”

Jamie leaned back in his chair adopting his storyteller pose. “Let me tell ye a story. ‘Tis a tradition in the Fraser clan that parents make a rosary for each child for their First Communion. My Da carved each of the beads and the crucifix. My Mam strung the beads together thinking on the Glorious Mysteries. As she placed each bead, she said a Hail Mary, Our Father, or the Glory Be in the appropriate place. They had it blessed by a priest and it was gifted to me on the morning of my First Communion. I put it away after and dinna think much on it again until they died. Then it became the most precious thing I owned. I would ride out on my horse and go tae the old deserted churches in the Highlands and there I would pray. I would pray my rosary, the one they gave me, and it gave me comfort as I believed they were near me. Now, I’m asking ye to grant me another chance for comfort, tae talk tae the Lord so I ken what tae do. I dinna have my rosary with me, but I’ll do. Can ye help me?” Jamie placed his left hand over Brother Stan’s appealing for understanding.

Emerald green met sapphire blue seeking the truth and asking for help.

Brother Stan’s hand went to the cord around his waist and removed his rosary. “Tonight you can use mine.”

They rose and silently walked through the slumbering mass of people. Homeless men, women with children, battered women, runaways, lost souls, those down on their luck. Jamie looked around committing this sight to memory.

As they ascended the stairs to the chapel, the scent of beeswax and incense hung heavy in the air. On the right of the main altar was a shrine to the Holy Family while on the left was a shrine dedicated to St. Michael. The red sanctuary lamp was lit hanging near the main altar announcing the presence of the Lord.

In accordance with the custom of the Roman Rite, both Jamie and Brother Stan dipped their fingers into the holy water font and crossed themselves in the Sign of the Cross. Brother Stan gripped Jamie’s shoulder before leaving, “May your heart find comfort and your soul know peace. The Lord be with you. If you have need of me, you know where I will be.”

“Thank ye for everything,” Jamie replied choking with emotion.

Brother Stan nodded and left.

Jamie walked to the center aisle, genuflected, got down on his knees, then lay prostrate before his God in humility, respect, and penance.

“Lord God, please let me understand her.

Let me shelter her from all danger, pain, and sorrow.

Let me be her sanctuary, her safe port in a storm.

Let me keep her safe; her protector from what seeks tae harm her.

Let me help her tae find peace, happiness, joy, and love.

Let me be her home the place where her heart resides.

Let me love her rightly.

God, oh God, please let me be enough.”

And he wept.

****************************

Claire woke up looking at the time on the bedside clock. Ill-temperedly it announced 3:38 AM. Shit, she only meant to take a brief nap not fall asleep. Rubbing her eyes ridding them of residual sleep, she scanned the room looking for...

“Jamie?” There was no answer. The opposite side of the bed was cold and not been slept in. There was no sign of him.

Claire began to panic, her heart racing, fingers cold and sweaty. What if something happened to him? What if he had fallen and gotten hurt? He could be lost. Maybe he was hit by a car? Her imagination ran wild imagining different catastrophes that could have befallen him.

Deciding not to let panic consume her, she thought maybe he fell asleep in the lobby not wanting to wake her up. Calling down to the front desk, she discovered he had left about three hours ago. According to the receptionist Jamie did not say where he was going. The young woman did notice that he turned to his left when he exited the building.

Foolish man, where could he have gone to? Guilt engulfed her. She should have gone after him when he left. She should have never left him alone. She would never forgive herself if something happened to him.

Claire decided to look for him and dressed quickly. Where he could have gone, she had no idea. But she was damned if she was going to sit here to wait and worry. She grabbed his warm coat, gloves, scarf, hat, and his wallet. Claire thought having his wallet could prove useful as it would serve as a means of identification. Although, a very tall red-headed man would be easy to spot.

Claire turned left following Jamie’s assumed route, hoping luck would be on her side.

Walking the empty streets, she began to wonder where he could have gone. She trudged along for several blocks before noticing that this is the way to Boston Commons. Of course. That’s where he would go. The open spaces would be a balm to his soul. She hurried quickly over the icy walkways.

She reached Boston Commons and followed the path they had taken. There was no sign of him. She passed by a tree and found an almost empty bottle of whisky that she recognized from the hotel along with a fair amount of vomit. So! He had been here. She looked around and did not see him. “Jamie, where are you? Jamie!” But there was no answer.

Claire continued walking, looking for any sign as to where he could have gone. She followed the path out of the park and walked straight for several blocks until coming across a welcome sign posted by a church. The sign welcomed anyone in need of a place to stay. She wondered if he would have gone in until she looked up and saw the imposing statue of Blessed Michael the Archangel and knew. Michael was important to the Scots. They often petitioned him for assistance in a time of need.

“No harm in asking,” she considered. Descending down the stairs, Claire entered the shelter and observed Brother Stan at work talking, comforting, praying. Looking around she did not see any red curls anywhere. Just as she was about to leave, Brother Stan approached her.

“May I help you?” he asked a gentle smile across his lips.

“Well, maybe. I am looking for a tall red-headed Scotsman that…”

“Are you Claire, by chance?”

She gaped at him. “How did you know? Jamie, is he here? Where is he? Is he alright?” Claire babbled. She frantically scanned the room again. How hard could it be to find him here?

“He is here and safe. Though he re-injured his broken hand, I’m afraid. I had to pull several splinters out of his hand. He had a run-in with a tree, it seems,” he said with a little smirk.

“Take me to him, please,” she pleaded. He was hurt and she hadn't been there to care for him. She felt uneasy until she could see him with her own eyes.

“He is upstairs in the chapel, praying. Come I will take you.”

“Praying?”

“Yes, he said it would bring him comfort and peace.”

They walked up the same stairs and repeated the same blessing. “Go to him. Be with him. He needs you.”

“Thank you Father for everything.”

“You’re welcome my dear. Oh and it is Brother, not Father. The Lords’ peace be with you both.”

Brother Stan left silently as he did before.

Claire put Jamie’s things down in a pew, and soundlessly approached the man she loves.

Kneeling down beside him, she hesitated wanting so much to touch him. Wanting to stroke his soft curls to give him comfort. To reassure herself he was real. But she felt afraid to startle him out of his deep meditations.

Instead, she whispered softly, “Jamie, it’s me, Claire.”

***********************

Interesting things:

St. Stanislaus Kostka is the patron saint of broken bones. So I named the Brother after him.

In the mood board, the picture of the church in the left upper corner is a church devoted to St. Stanislaus Kostka. It is located in Brooklyn.

The Marine Corps is part of the Naval services and do not have their own medics. So that’s why Brother Stan served as a naval corpsman.

You all noticed I didn’t say anything about Chapter 16 and I’m not going to either.

#edinburgh to boston #chapter15 #outlander fanfiction #An Examination of Conscience #my writing #best ever betas #the best readers #curlsgetdemgurls #scubalass #Here Goes Nothing

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