#Claire's back should be immensely painful by now

[lovemishjen]

I have been trying to understand why I was so disappointed with the Supernatural finale. After all, being a writer myself, I wouldn’t like anyone telling me how to write the climax to my story, and therefore, I more than the average viewer should have been able to respect the freedom of the writers and showrunners to take their story to what they believed to be the right conclusion.

The problem, I realized is that every story has a structure that it has to follow to get it to make sense, even the ones that are not overtly formulaic.

So I looked at a few beloved older shows that I watched through the seasons and understand what made their endings more palatable.

The Mentalist – Like supernatural, The Mentalist is not a show about romance; it is a police procedural show, with a murder solved by the team in each episode, and more importantly it is about Jane’s obsession and quest for revenge from the serial killer Red John and finally the journey towards Jane’s catharsis. But as the characters evolved, Jane and Lisbon’s equation changed from friendship to something more, very organically I would say, and the show ends with them together and even expecting a baby – a satisfying happy ending that works thanks to not just Jane’s character growth but Lisbon’s as well.

House MD – Again, not a show about romance or even friendships. It’s a hospital show and a ‘medical procedural’, that unlike Grey’s Anatomy and similar shows, is almost fully focused on the titular character. The showrunners have spoken about how House and Wilson were inspired by Conan Doyle’s Holmes and Watson. During all the ups and downs over the seasons, their friendship remains the heart of the series, and while the pairing was wildly popular in the fandom, with slash fiction being written prolifically even now, ten years after the show ended, the showrunners chose to keep the relationship platonic. As the characters were introduced as canonically straight, the writers probably did not dare take a wild leap to sexual intimacy on the show, despite the immense popularity of the pairing. However, we see the characters falling out and getting back together, thereby strengthening their bond, and the protagonist, a self-professed selfish and ‘bastard’ character, giving up on everything that meant anything to him, and driving off into the sunset with his best friend aka the person who is most important to him, again satisfying though bittersweet.

Elementary – Yet another police procedural. Most people read Sherlock and Joan’s relationship as platonic, a change from the shipping heavy pairings. Here too, the show ends with the two friends taking steps to becoming platonic-life partners after all the turmoil and physical dangers they faced over the series.

Now, in Supernatural, the story demanded a happy or at least a bittersweet ending. Why? Because of the death, resurrection, pain, literal hellfire, loss of loved ones that Sam and Dean went through, only a happy ending makes sense, and heaven, that is canonically in the control of manipulative angels is not a happy ending at all, unlike say ‘The Good Place’.

If I were to take the story to its logical conclusion, the finale would have both brothers taking the call to be semi-retired. Sam and Eileen would probably set up a Hunters Headquarters in the Men of Letters bunker. Dean would either start a Roadhouse-style bar named after Ellen and Jo or an Auto restoration business for classic cars named after Bobby. A full blown romantic relationship between Dean and Cas wouldn’t work so late in the game. So, again a platonic life partner setup, that’s open for interpretation, with Dean, Cas and Jack buying a farm where Claire and the rest of the found family frequently visit them. 

So the brothers would find stability and “the peace when you’re done” that we were promised. Dean and Cas, as both soldiers with a fair amount of PTSD, would help each other on the path to healing. Sam would never get out of hunting as he wanted at the start, but a semi-retired approach would give that to him partially, and let him indulge in research that makes sense for his academic type personality. 

The final shot would be of the brothers in the backyard of dean’s farm, drinking beer, finally at peace, not just with the world, but with each other, as having their own support system in the form of found family, and their own space would let them get over the annoyance of constantly living in each other’s pockets, forever on the road, with no control over their destiny and mistrustful of each other. We were so robbed of this – a logical, meaningful bittersweet ending that made sense for these beloved characters.

[aparticularbandit]

@our-blood-is-our-ink asked for claireve valentines comfort.

...this is maybe more angst than it is comfort.

alas.

of note, eve does call claire by a different name.  she does not, at this point, know that claire is claire.  please do not hold this against her.

“Don’t answer it.”

The phone in Claire’s hand vibrates again, the screen lighting up. She reads the caller ID.  Swallows once.

Devon grips her chin in his hand, tries to angle her head up so that she can meet his eyes, but she resists him.  “Don’t answer it, Claire,” he says, and every time he says her name, she feels more sure of it, feels a little more in love with him, feels so much like herself that the unease of her skin is so much less.  “We’re almost out,” he says.  “We’ve only got finals, and then we’ll be gone.  You don’t have to answer it.  You can just put it down.  Don’t do it.”

Claire presses her lips together.  Her eyes haven’t left the name etched in black on the lime green screen. She shrugs, rolling her shoulders with ease, and steps back, pulling her chin out of Devon’s grip.  “It’s Eve,” she says in a pained tone of voice as she answers the call.

“He left me.”

Eve doesn’t even say hello, doesn’t wait for Claire to say hello, just outs with it as soon as Claire picks up. Her voice, her throat, is tight; even tighter than Claire can hear, probably, given the immense static crackling through the phone.  Cell phones are supposed to be the future, but right now they still feel like absolute ass. A landline would be better; Devon doesn’t want Eve to have their number.

“Wait.”  Claire strides out of the living room; more often than not, she and Devon share a bedroom, but she has one of her own for moments just like this, for moments when she is less in love with him than he wants, than what their current plan calls for. If they are meant to be married, she should be in love with him all of the time, even if he’s given her permission to divorce him later, if she finds someone she truly loves.

There’s only one person Claire has ever truly loved.

She ignores Devon’s gaze as she goes into her room and shuts the door behind her, sliding the bolt into place.  “What’s wrong, Eve?  Who left you?”

“Ted,” Eve says, and Claire has never heard that name before.  “Ted left me, he left me, and I shouldn’t be calling you, I shouldn’t, I know this isn’t fair to you, but I’m pregnant and he left me, and I didn’t know who else to call, no one was picking up, and you are my best friend, Christopher, or you…or you were, and—”

“I’m here, Eve.”  Claire speaks into the crackling static as smoothly and gently as she can. On the other side of the phone, Eve is crying.  Her lips press together again.  “Where are you?”

“In our—”

The static is so loud that Claire thinks it cut out what Eve said, but it isn’t that at all, it’s that Eve paused, corrected herself, “In my apartment.”  She hiccups through her tears.

“What’s the address, Eve?”

“Huh?”

~

Claire leaves her room with an overnight bag slung over one shoulder, surprised that she’d been able to keep her head on straight long enough to get one put together. She’s probably missing something. Her clothes probably don’t match. She’d just shoved things into the bag without really thinking about it, too angry – rage pulsing through her chest – to focus on that.  In fact, she’s seeing so much red that she doesn’t even see Devon as she passes him on the way to their apartment door.

Devon grabs her wrist, holds her in place, stops her.  “Where are you going?”

“Eve needs me.”

“Claire.” Devon tightens his grip, even though she doesn’t struggle against him.  “She’s your ex.  She broke your heart.  Don’t do this.  Don’t ruin your life—”

“I’m not ruining my life, Dev.”  Claire still doesn’t pull her wrist out of his grip, doesn’t even try, but she doesn’t look at him either.  “And she didn’t break my heart.  I broke hers.”

“You have a chance, Claire.  An actual chance.  Do you know how rare that is—”

Claire chuckles lightly to herself.  “You’re acting like I won’t come back, Dev.  It’s not like that—”

“Isn’t it?”  Devon loosens his grip, fingers tracing circles on Claire’s wrist.  “Next week is finals week.  Senior year.  You should stay here, Claire.  Studying. You shouldn’t be traveling halfway across the state—”

“It’s only thirty minutes—”

“—because your ex-girlfriend called you,” Devon finishes, not even pretending to pay attention to Claire’s excuses.  “Does she even know?” he asks, and Claire’s heart crumbles.  “Does she even know who you are?”

Claire doesn’t say anything.  She doesn’t have to.  There isn’t anything to say.

Devon drops his hand.

“Do you want the ring back?” Claire asks, twisting it easy around her finger, a new habit that she hadn’t thought she would ever need to break.

“No,” Devon says, rough voice soft.  “Keep it.  To remember what you could have been.”

Claire swallows again.  Harder this time.  There’s a lump in her throat that she hadn’t expected.  “It’s Eve,” she says, finally, turning back to him, blue eyes bright and wide.  “What do you want me to do?”

Devon sighs and gives a little shake of his head.  He has never looked smaller in his entire life than he does in this exact moment, shoving his hands into his pockets and hanging his head.  “Does it really matter, Claire?”

~

Claire barely knocks on Eve’s apartment door before it swings open and Eve falls onto her, curling her head on Claire’s flat chest.  “I can’t believe you came,” she moans into Claire’s skin.

Immediately, Claire wraps her arms protectively around Eve and holds her close to her.  She presses a kiss to the top of her head and murmurs, “Of course, I came, Eve.”  She threads her fingers through Eve’s hair, stroking it gently.  It’s only a few seconds, and already she can feel Eve’s tears through her thin shirt. “It’ll be okay—”

“He left me,” Eve repeats, balling her hands into fists, clutching at Claire’s shirt.  “He left me.”

Claire doesn’t know who this Ted is, but she knows she wants to punch him in the face.  “Do you want me to fight him?” she growls.  “I’ll make him wish he never—”

“No.”  Eve sniffles once, twice, and the word comes out as a long moan. She steps back, head lowered, refusing to look up, avoiding Claire’s gaze.  “Come in, it’s….”  Her voice trails off, and she rubs her arm with her other hand.  “I don’t want to make a scene.”

You are allowed to make a scene, Claire thinks angrily but doesn’t say. It would come out wrong, it would sound like she was mad at Eve, and she isn’t, she isn’t mad at Eve, nothing could be further from the truth, and she doesn’t want to make things worse by making it sound as though she is.  So, instead, she takes Eve’s hand in her own, interlaces their fingers the way she had so many times before she’d broken up with her, and gives her a gentle squeeze.  A reminder.  I’m here.

Eve squeezes her hand back weakly and then tugs her into the apartment.

~

It’s—

It’s—

Claire can’t help it; seeing the state of Eve’s apartment, her free hand clenches into the tightest fist she’s ever had, so tight that she can feel her sharp nails digging into the flesh of her palms, the sticky sweet drip of blood staining the skin beneath them.  Her nails are so much longer now than they’d ever been when she was dating Eve; she’s let them grow out a bit so that she can paint them, an act that has been soothing for years only she’s never felt confident enough to leave the decoration on. Right now, they look like a sunset. She hopes that Eve doesn’t notice.

It’s a hope that she can’t realize right now, though, staring at the hollow emptiness of everything.  A couple of the cabinets in the kitchen stand open, their few contents shuffled and almost thrown about, knocked over, crumpled.  Two spices have tumbled to the floor, their tops open – just from the smell, it must be cinnamon and sage.

As Eve pulls her further into the apartment, Claire sees the spaces where a life – lives – once were: an empty spot in the living room where a recliner must have been, another where the TV stood (there’s dust around where its base once was, around the rectangular spot where a VHS player must have been), missing slots in the rows of VHS tapes where movies have suddenly gone missing.  All of the pictures hung along the walls, however, are still there; it seems like this Ted hadn’t really cared about making the place seem more livable.

Asshole.

Eve leads Claire into her bedroom, which is…worse, almost.  There are clothes thrown everywhere, dresser drawers half-open, pillows missing, a blanket that seems to have been on one half of the bed, shoes scattered here and there – Claire stumbles over one, and she notices that one of the open drawers is full of Eve’s underwear. White hot rage boils within her.  “Tell me,” she growls, “that you didn’t let him take—“

“Half of them were already his,” Eve murmurs, voice tight, choked.  “He liked to collect them.  Said he liked the way they smelled.”  She still can’t meet Claire’s eyes.  “Said they helped him when I wasn’t here.”

“Eve—”

“I thought it was normal—”

“I never—”

“No, you never, and you left me, too.”

Eve doesn’t sling the words as an accusation, doesn’t say them angrily, barely whispers the admittance, but still, it stops Claire from saying anything else.  She steps barefoot, careful, across to the bed and curls up into the smallest ball Claire has ever seen, pulling her sheets and comforter around her and holding their edges close together in front of her.  She sniffles again, eyes red but dry.

When Claire follows her to the bed, she looks up, finally meeting Claire’s eyes; hers are bloodshot, swollen, a drop of the most beautiful blue she has ever seen in a deep sea of blood.  Claire slips onto the bed next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders.  “Come here.”

Without saying anything, Eve curls into Claire.  She rests her head on her chest, hesitates, and then curls closer until she’s nearly in Claire’s lap.  But Claire doesn’t mind.  Instead, she only holds her closer and begins to stroke her hair again.  “It’ll be okay,” she murmurs soothingly.  “You don’t have to worry about that asshole any—”

“He wasn’t an asshole, Christopher—”

“Quit defending him, Eve; he left you—”

Eve sniffles again, and the sound cuts Claire off.  She’s not hear to accuse Eve of anything.  She’s here to make her feel better.  Apparently talking shit about the boy who literally left her is not helping.  She can’t imagine why.

“I’m here,” Claire murmurs instead.  “I’m here, and I will be here for as long as you need me.”  She strokes her fingers gentle along the curve of Eve’s spine, the way that she knows she likes, and then scratches gently along her back.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

Eve nods.  Closes her eyes.  Lets out a little sigh as she slowly, slowly relaxes.  It isn’t that she isn’t crying; it’s that she’s cried so much already that she doesn’t have any tears left.  “Thank you,” she murmurs, voice soft.  “I don’t….” She swallows again.  “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Claire continues to stroke her fingers along Eve’s back until she feels Eve’s breath slowing into that peaceful churn indicating rest.  Her chest lifts slow against Claire’s, and Claire just keeps an eye on her, unable to comprehend how anyone could hurt her like this, could think that it was even remotely acceptable to just leave Eve because she’d gotten pregnant.

Eve slumbers, but Claire doesn’t.  Claire lies awake, and she thinks, and she considers.

[denimbex1986]

'Time Out says

5 out of 5 stars

Paul Mescal and Andrew Scott spark in a masterful love story of loneliness and healing

In the cinema of Andrew Haigh, from Weekend to Lean on Pete, characters are often looking for a connection that they’re afraid to ask for. Adapting Taichi Yamada’s 1987 novel ‘Strangers’, Haigh writes and directs an achingly sincere exploration of love and loneliness.

Screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott) lives alone in a characterless new build somewhere in London. The city looms beneath him, beautiful and bare, reminding him of his solitude. Adam’s parents died in a car crash when he was just 12, his friends moved away to have gardens and babies. He is the only soul in his building, aside from Harry (Paul Mescal), who turns up at his door one night, drunk and horny. Their chance encounter leads to the cautious unfolding of a love story between two deeply wounded characters, their individual pain tangled up and misshapen. Both Adam and Harry are easy to fall in love with, both of them lonely creatures with a great capacity for love but nowhere to direct it to.

The chemistry between Scott and Mescal is feverish, rapt and tender. They are physically drawn together as if they had been ripped apart eons ago and are now stitching themselves back as they should have been. Harry draws Adam out of his isolation with sex, at first, a ketamine-sprinkled night on the town, but, mostly, with immense care. Adam, in turn, is a validating force for a character with a tendency to dismiss his own pain.

This unexpected love story coincides with an unexplainable event: visiting his childhood home near Croydon, Adam encounters his parents (played by a note-perfect Jamie Bell and Claire Foy), the same age as they were when he was a child, as if encased in an 1987 amber. This opportunity to get to know his parents, and for them to get to know their son who they never saw grow up, would be hokey in many hands, but Haigh graces his characters with a radical tenderness.

Supernaturally, Adam gets the opportunity to come out to his parents, confronting his mom’s classically ’80s prejudices and unburden the abandonment he felt at his father’s inability to comfort his bullied son. It is a sign of Haigh’s dexterity as a filmmaker that the ghost element of the story feels completely natural, weaving in the universal, impossible fantasy of bridging the gap between parents and children, with both sides flawed but full of love for each other.

All of Us Strangers is a miraculously uncheesy study of loneliness, forgiveness and, above all, the power of love.'

[whiskynottea]

I originally came here with the intentions to ask you for a Master List. But then I found it. And then I found “We’ll Rise Up”! How did I miss that?!?! Any plans to continue it? 😘❤️

Hi love!! I’m so glad that you found “We’ll rise up” and you liked it! 

It’s my first (and less popular) story and it has a special place in my heart. After a kind reminder from @cantrixgrisea a few weeks ago:

and inquiries from @outlander76, @chechzooo, @rancar47 and @underthewingsofthblackeagle… I think it’s time to write the next chapter!!

I’m sorry for this huge delay girls and thank you for your support!! 💖💖

[bre-meister]

I need some pre married/family angst

this is early relationship so pre-family and pre-married Cleon. I hope it’s angsty enough I kind of got distracted while writing to fight a huge ass hornet in my room ( I was super terrified ngl). This was such a journey for me to write that I don’t even have an official title for it like I normally try to do lol. This has also taught me that I need to work on angst that is not “person A and Person B fight”. Sorry for the rant here's the actual work:

Claire was mad. No, Claire was beyond mad. Claire Redfield was absolutely furious. Her rage was so blinding that she couldn’t even be bothered to apologize to the nice looking doorman as she barreled through the lobby of the apartment building of the object of said anger. She was sorry - felt the apology in her bones as soon as the smaller man began to cringe and cower slightly in her presence - but again, her anger prevented it from passing her lips.

Secretly, she did take a little pride in the fact that, as she entered the elevator, a young-looking couple decided to “wait for the next one” instead of sharing with her. It gave her a little more time to stew in her anger - pulling from the depths of her soul, every time that she had said it was okay even when it wasn’t - before she came face to face with him.

“What the hell Leon!”

The door to his apartment opened with such force that if circumstances had been different, she would have been worried about possibly putting a hole in the wall. Alas, her attention was not on the wall, but instead on the man lying on the couch in front of her. Leon was clearly either drunk or hungover. Although considering what she’d heard from both her brother - half the reason she was here in the first place - there was a distinct possibility it could be both. Claire wasn’t sure that could actually happen, but if anyone could make it a thing it would most definitely be Leon S. Kennedy.

All that came out of his mouth was unintelligible garble mixed in with a few pained groans. Claire took pleasure in that for a moment and allowed it to further stoke the flames inside of her. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was about to do. She’d kind of just gone on autopilot after getting. Chris’s concerned texts. Apparently, Leon had been ghosting everyone over the last week. So, there she stood, upset and silent until Leon made the mistake of finally speaking real words.

“Red,”

Claire didn’t let him finish. She exploded,

“No! You don’t get to do that, you hear me? You don’t!”

Claire moved towards the couch and yanked off the blanket covering Leon with more force than was probably necessary. The blanket had apparently been completely wrapped around him and, in his current state, that was enough to cause him to tumble to the floor. He let out another grunt of pain as he landed but Claire didn’t care.

“Get your ass up.” Her voice had calmed, steadied to an even tone. Her anger no longer manifested itself in yelling, but instead as a low growl behind her words.

When he didn’t make any effort to move, she said it again,

“I’m not asking Leon. Get up.”

He finally did as told. Standing he slowly moved to the small kitchen behind the couch. There he found a glass that looked somewhat cleaned and began to fill it with water.

This wasn’t the first time that Claire had been there to pick up the pieces whenever Leon fell apart. Safe to say, those instances had never quite played out like this one and Leon was a little jarred and, admittedly, a little afraid of what the red-headed woman might do. 

They stared at each other as Claire gave Leon a moment to swallow the little bit of water that was left in his glass. When he sat it in the sink and she remained silent he let his impaired brain convince him that meant he should speak.

“What’s your problem? Chris piss in your Wheaties this morning?”

The look on her face caused concern. The laugh that followed chilled him to the core. Leon S. Kennedy had faced down and won so many B.O.Ws that he had lost count but at that moment as he looked across the room at a laughing Claire Redfield, he knew that he had quite possibly signed his death warrant. He also knew that if this truly were how he died, several people would help her cover it up, and frankly, he couldn’t blame them.

“My problem?” she continued to laugh, “What’s my problem?”

Leon was getting a little nervous. In yet another mistake, he even let out a few nerve filled chuckles himself.

“No, you don’t get to laugh! This isn’t funny,” and yet she was still laughing. 

Leon was not.

“Do you know why this isn’t funny? Because I don’t think you do.”

He couldn’t have answered even if he wanted to - Claire cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth to fumble through some bullshit excuse.

“You don’t. I know you don’t because if you did you would have had your ass at the restaurant last week, Leon!”

Leon felt his stomach drop. Oh no. He really had fucked up this time.

“Sherry’s birthday.” He felt more than heard the mumbled words slip past his lips.

“Ya, Sherry’s birthday,” Claire turned around to finally close the door and Leon took the opportunity to sit down in one of the few chairs at his tiny kitchen table.

“You know, I was okay with this when it was only me you were fucking over. I know I shouldn’t have been, but I was. I told myself over and over that it was fine, you needed this time, you needed me and I was more than happy to give it to you - everything. I give you everything! But it was okay because you were always there for me too. Most of the time at least. And I get it, Leon, hell I get it more than probably anyone else. What we went through was hell, no one should have to go through that once let alone as many times as you do. But I was there too, I have to deal with that shit too. Sherry has to deal with that shit. She was Twelve Leon.”

“I know -”

“Then where the fuck were you? This was all she wanted! All she asked for for her birthday was for all three of us to be there, together and you couldn’t even get your shit together enough to give that to her. No call, no text, not even a half-assed excuse just nothing. The hurt and disappointment on her face - I’ll never forget that Leon. And to top it off, I had to cover for you and as much as I love you,” she saw that way his whole body seized up at her words, “I’m tired. I refuse to do that anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

Claire pulled at her hair which, for once, wasn’t in its usual ponytail.

“Stop! It’s always sorry with you. For once could you just stop!”

“Stop what? Tell me what I have to do to fix this.” He was desperate. He didn’t want to lose her or Sherry. The idea of that - of finally being completely and utterly alone - was almost too much to bear.

“For starters stop making promises if you know you can’t keep them. Stop overcommitting yourself. Stop overworking yourself because that’s always how you get this way in the first place. And stop looking like that.”

“Like what?” he was a little puzzled. He may have also been on the verge of tears but, if anyone asked later he would deny it vehemently.

“Like...like I just killed your puppy or - or like I’m taking away everything from you - it’s making it really hard to stay mad!”

In any other situation, he might have laughed at that but he had sobered up enough between when Claire had burst through his door and now. Now, he really did feel that Claire leaving here like this, Sherry being disappointed with him - that truly was as if everything were being taken away from him.

“I’m sorry. I - I don’t know how to make you believe that I am, but I truly am sorry. I would never hurt you, Claire. I would never hurt Sherry.” He was pleading at his point. He didn’t know what else to do.

“But you did. You hurt us Leon, and I’m not saying that I won’t forgive you, but it’s going to take some time. You fucked up and your usual ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix it when we always end up in the same cycle again.” She sighed and as the air left her body she could feel all of her anger leaving as well only to be replaced with immense sadness and disappointment.

Claire turned and walked towards the door. A small clang echoed through the silent room and, although Leon couldn’t see from his spot in the kitchen, he knew that Claire had dropped her spare key on the table next to the door.

“Wait! Claire, please, don’t.”

“Don’t what Leon?” She didn’t turn around, she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave if she did. So, head down she gathered her strength and continued,

“Don’t leave? Give me a reason to stay then.”

“ I love you.” It came out in a soft whisper. 

Those three simple words - the first time he had ever said them to her in a non-platonic way. They made her heart soar and ache, both at the same time. She’d imagined this moment a lot but never like this. Never at the end of a fight that had been building for a long time. Never with her back to him, preparing to leave. Never with him sitting in his kitchen, a mess, crying in a way she’d never seen from him. Never like this. And, as much as she wanted to stay…

“ I love you too Leon. But that’s not what this is about. Call Sherry, she deserves to hear from you why you couldn’t do this one thing for her.”

With that, she left. With her, Leon felt a part of him leave as well.

The tears turned to outright sobs as he collapsed on his kitchen floor - dirty. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. He hadn’t cleaned or showered in a while but it was kind of fitting. His apartment was dirty, his clothes were dirty, his body was dirty but he was dirty in a way that was deeper than just the physical sense. 

He’d let them down. The only two people in this world that he still gave a damn about. The only two people he would try for.

Then why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t he pushed himself harder? In the same sense, why hadn’t he taken a break when he had pushed too hard. Why hadn’t he tried harder to stop her? Why hadn’t he?

There were too many questions. If he left himself to ponder them for too long he’d never get up from this dirty kitchen floor and he couldn’t afford to stay here forever. He had business to attend to, phone calls to make.

First, to his job. Claire was right, he needed to stop overworking himself and he’s acquired more than enough hours to take some time off. Then, to Sherry, because he owed her an apology in more than just words. He only hoped she would allow him to make it up to her.

He wanted to call Claire - show her he was trying, that she was right and he would do better. However, he knew that would probably only make things worse. She always gave him the time he needed, now it was time for him to do the same.

But before anything, he had to get up off the floor. The floor was dirty. He was dirty. Leon was tired of the blood and grime that seemed to fill almost all of his waking hours as D.S.O Agent Kennedy. He decided he wouldn’t let it follow him home anymore. So, Leon got up.

On his way to the bathroom he passed by the bowl he kept on his front table by the door. It was a housewarming gift from Claire who knew he was always misplacing his keys and yet never making an effort to get more organized. Always looking out for him, his Claire. 

Leon wouldn’t even let himself question if there even was a ‘his Claire’. Not that he owned her, no one could ever own Claire Redfield. But, looking at the two keys laying together in the bowl, Leon couldn’t help but think they were the same - a matching set. One complementing the other in a way that, while they were separate, they were still part of the same.

Yes, Leon Kennedy got up and as he looked at his dirty face in the mirror, he turned the faucet on because he was tired of being dirty. He was ready to get clean.

[jamieatthebarricade]

Maids to Wives

An Outlander AU based loosely on the TV Show and real life in the historic Jamestown

In 1619, one hundred and forty-four English women from good families crossed the Atlantic in response to the Virginia Company of London’s call for maids “young and corrupt” to make wives for the planters of it’s new colony in Virginia. One in six of the maids could even claim gentry status. Although promised a free choice of husband, they were in effect being traded into marriage for a bride price of 150 pounds of best leaf tobacco, the profits to flow to individual investors

In 1619, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp made the voyage to do one thing: marry a man she's never met. But when she arrives, she comes to the startling realization that her heart belongs to someone else, a certain James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser.

Chapter 1/? : Aboard The Ship

April 17th, 1619, Claire’s POV

“I feel like my innards are swasheling ‘bout” Geillis hacked out her dinner for the 4th time this week. I tried my best to soothe her, rubbing her shoulders lightly, but the smell of old fish and stomach acid from the other’s puking made it hard to keep anything down. Most of us hadn't been on a boat before, let alone in the middle of the ocean where the monstrous waves led to monstrous waves of sea sickness. It took all my strength not to succumb to the churn in my own stomach. Poor Geillis didn't have the same strength as I.

Geillis was one of the first women I met on this voyage. Me and her bonded over our love of herbs and our older age. She has become one of my closest friends on this trek to find my future husband. 

My Husband. The word had only rolled off my tongue a few times in my life, but suddenly it was my entire world. It was all the ladies talked about, all they thought of,  all they could remember dreaming about. But, the rest of the women on the ship were different from me, and from Geillis too: they were young, and they were trained. Geillis and I were the eldest of all the brides -she being 31 and I being 27- and didn’t receive the same education as the rest of the girls. I myself spent my childhood traveling Europe with my Uncle Lamb, not learning how to be a good wife that could keep house. Perhaps if my parents hadn’t died when I was so young they could have instilled the passion for housekeeping in me, but a childhood under my Uncle’s influence assuredly led to the demise of any interest in such things. He even tried to enroll me in a dame school, but I refused. Can you imagine? Years of learning how to sew and knit and cook. I couldn’t think of a more revolting thing. I had longed to continue to travel with Uncle Lamb, as his career as an antiquarian required him to do, and so he had no choice but to keep me by his side. I imagine him beside me now, as if this voyage was just like any other: exploring new lands with curiosity and excitement. 

As Geillis continued to empty her stomach, I scanned the cabin, seeing some of the younger girls on the ship playing a card game. Their eyes lit a bright light inside of them when they got a good hand, and their smiles sparkled like pearls in the faint lantern light. Despite the ship muck they resided in, they still radiated beauty and grace. That and their training would make them excellent wives. 

Perhaps I should have let Uncle Lamb enroll me in that Dame school, I thought as I turned back to check on Geillis. Even though I got to choose the man I married, there was no guarantee that my husband would keep me when he found out how many skills I lacked. But no man could be so cruel, could he? While it made no sense to wish for a kind husband, I still did, as did all the women. I could only hope that my husband would be caring, smart, and understanding (and have a face and body with equally desirable qualities, but both together was the most rare of all).

A tug on Geillis’s hair called me back to reality. It seemed the sickness had faded for a moment or two, enough for her to speak. “Claire, I swear to ye, if I don’t make it on this ship, bury me in the new world. I dinna care if my flesh sticks up the whole bloody ship, I wilna be thrown to the sea, like a bone to a dog” 

“You’re not gonna die Geillis, it’s only 3 more weeks till the captains said we'll see land. If you die on this ship, I swear to you I’ll kill you” My remark managed to stifle a chuckle from Geillis’s sickly body. She smiled at me, and then her moment of peace was over: she went back to being sick almost immediately. I never found myself in the comfort of women, but Geillis was like a sister to me. Spending a month at sea in tight quarters did that to a friendship. 

Geillis wasn’t the only friend I made on the ship. To my left sat 15 year old Mary Hawkins, the youngest of the maids. Mary was just… small. A small frame and small face were the most startling of her features, and the month on the ship caused an almost deadly thinning of her figure. When she spoke, the words came in small stutters, and any movement made her jump. When I first saw her I wondered how Mary could have thought she could survive the trek across the ocean; that was, until I found out being a maid was her father’s scheme. After finding this out, a sisterly urge surged inside me, and I was her protector on the voyage ever since. And as her protector, I saw her shivering as I helped Geillis, and moved my arm from Geillis’s back to around Mary’s shoulders.  She gladly nestled herself into my side, but the shaking didn’t stop.

“A-am I going to die here, C-Claire?” She stuttered out. I quickly shook my head and turned to look down at her. I saw tears running down her face, but she didn’t look me in the eyes. She kept her gaze on the wall across from us, where a woman who looked the most sick of all rested her head. She didn’t look alive anymore, but with closer examination I saw her chest rose ever so slightly. I made a mental note to check on her later, if she hadn’t already died. So far, 34 women have died. While the cause of death varied from maid to maid, it was all from the same sickness that plagued our ship since the beginning of the second week aboard. Not all the women were victims, but the ones that were died swiftly and in immense pain. But, for every maid that died here, the same amount of men were left without a bride, and that would mean another wave of maids. I couldn’t imagine putting more girls through this hell. I was fortunate to be well, and above all else, alive. 

“No, you’re not. You’re gonna leave the ship with us and meet your husband.” I rubbed Mary’s shoulders gently. I felt her breath loosen, and she slumped slightly. Good, I thought. She fell asleep

I then stayed with Geillis until her nausea faded. After cleaning her up using my dress as a rag, I laid her down and watched her drift to sleep. I touched my hand to her forehead, and was thankful for not feeling any unusual temperature. I removed my arm from Mary’s shoulders, and slowly set her down near Geillis’ head. I tucked a small bag of grain beneath both of their heads, and thankfully none of them awoke from their slumber. I looked across the cabin and saw the pale woman from before. She hadn’t changed positions, but her chest still rose and fell like before. I moved in front of her, and placed my hand on her forehead. Hot. Burning hot. I shook her awake, and when she opened her eyes, they were bloodshot. 

“Will... you tell my husband that I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it” The sentence flowed out like any other statement, but the meaning behind it was darker.. She was a young woman, nearly 23 I guessed. Her hair was a soft blonde, and she had a pleasing aura about her. I could also tell she was quite pretty, underneath the sweat and sickness. Her hair stuck around her face, but she had the complexion of a sheet of paper. She was transparent, the veins of her body stuck out harshly against her pale face. When she spoke, it came out in a low whisper, as if her body didn’t have the willpower to use any strength.

“I’m Faith” She flashed a quick but weak attempt at a smile. I wished there was something I could do, to give her the strength that had saved me these past weeks. I reached beside her to grab a rag, in hopes of maybe wiping away the heat, but she put her hands over mine.

“Make the new world good for us” She spoke, before closing her eyes. Everything happened so suddenly, I could barely register it all. The minute she closed her eyes, any color that was left in her face disappeared. The rising of her chest stopped, and a hand fell limply from mine. 

I removed myself immediately, and sat next to Geillis. She stirred in her sleep before sitting up, tired. She must’ve heard what had happened, because just as I sat down she put her arm around mine. I wanted to cry, to feel some kind of pity for the woman, but nothing came out. ‘You should mourn her’ my brain told me but how could I? I just met her.

I didn’t have time to be like this. In a few short weeks we would be on the island with the men, living in the new world. Instead of feeling pity, I felt a sense of guilt. Out of nearly 100 women, only a few would step off this ship and into a new life. And I was one of them. Why did I get the luxury? I wasn’t ever a quiet, obeying miss, and I don’t think I could ever be. Why did god and those above think me fit to take on the responsibility of marriage? Faith would’ve probably made a fantastic wife, but here she lies dead by my feet and I am still breathing.

These thoughts ran rampant in my mind, so much so they exhausted me, and I felt myself roused into a deep slumber, with Geillis’ arm still around me and the soft breathing of the living filling my ears, reminding me I was still alive, that we all were. We bore the weight and responsibility of those who didn’t live, it was our job to make the new world good and prosperous.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hello everyone! This is my first chapter of a fanfiction I’m looking forward to writing! I’m a fairly new author so if everyone could be kind/give solid constructive criticism, that would be amazing! I’m looking forward to hopefully releasing more chapters later on!

[beanzykin]

Evan Morgan Reznick

A Breznick fanfiction

Summary: Breznick soulmate AU

"Have any of your soulmate initials switched?" Claire asked, filling the silence in the locker room with a question she's been wanting to ask forever. "Mm… no. They've been L.D ever since I was twelve," Shaun carefully placed his toy scalpel in his bag while Morgan opened her locker. "Nope," Alex turned around, "M.W, always. Why has yours recently changed?" 

"Yeah- well… not recently, more like when I was fourteen. But, one of the letters is still crossed out," She placed a hand on her right thigh where her soulmate's initials are. "I've never really told anyone, but I haven't seen anyone else's initials crossed out…" She trailed off, allowing the other three doctor's fill in the blanks that it was something she didn't talk much about. "That's weird," Alex gave Morgan a look only for her to ignore it by taking a sip from the day-old water in her bottle.

Claire scoffed, "They used to be C-E.R, but now the 'E' is crossed out and replaced with an 'M'-" Before Claire got a chance to continue, Morgan spit out her water and fell into a fit of non-stop coughing which caught everyone's attention.

Cristina-Morgan, Reznick. 

Caroline thought it'd be a good idea to give her child a longer name, that way her art signature would be more unique… Now looking back at it, it was a stupid desicion consitering Morgan hates art.

Despite choking on water -and the initial shock of the situation- Morgan managed to choke out some sorta sentence reassuring her sudden outburst.

"Those are my initials-" Alex froze on his way to help the blonde that was practically suffocating. 

A few more seconds of Morgan choking to death, Claire broke the thick tension that filled the previously dead silent room.

"What…?" Morgan took another sip after (and to help) her body calmed down. “Wait… you don’t have mine… right?” Claire felt her heart speed up when whipped her mouth and nodded her head.

"Alright, me and Shaun will see you two tomorrow…" Alex tapped Shaun's bag to catch his attention, leaving the two women to sort out their predicament. He didn't want to make the situation worse or more awkward, not that he was sure they were soulmates, or what the crossed out 'E' meant; but he didn't want to make either of them uncomfortable.

"Are you-… you're sure about this?" Claire asked as Shaun and Alex left the room. Morgan felt her eyes burn at the contact with Claire's "Well, I suspected it once I had your initials, but you're straight and never said anything…"

"Well I never said anything because your name starts with a 'C' and has an 'E' in the middle of it!" Claire's confusion brought her to her next question.

"Why is there an 'E'?" Morgan looked down at her shoe, avoiding the question and filing with her water bottle. "The 'E' is crossed out, what does it stand for?" She asked again, getting impatient with the situation. "It doesn't matter-" Claire interrupted her. "Well it kinda does, how do I know if you're actually my soulmate?!" 

Morgan looked back up, "I have C.B on my collar bone and you have my initials on your leg, right? Why does it matter?" 

"Cause I don't know if you're lying about being my soulmate or not!" Claire bitterly laughed at the end, clearly getting more pressed by the second. "So what if I'm not? What's so disappointing about that?! I'm lying, I'm not your soulmate. Just go find him!"  

The smaller doctor sighed, "We'll what if you are?! And you're actually lying to me! You obviously know why there was or still is an 'E', just tell me already!"

"Because I'm trans!" Morgan confessed, albeit a bit louder than she should. “See, that's all you had to do? Was that so Goddamn hard!?" Her tone was now mirroring Morgan's.

"YES! Yes, it was! And you don't fucking understand that!" She put her back to the locker and slid down shakily, her head making its way to her hands.

"Are you crying, is that how shitty of a soulmate I am?" For a split second, Morgan wanted to say yes -Even if she didn’t exactly mean it-, but her body felt like it was choking on that gross luke-warm water again and she couldn’t breathe.

It took Claire to realize that not everyone is as accepting of who their soulmate might be. She could only imagine that Morgan thought her soulmate would be immensely disappointed. Especially now -that Morgan has learnt she is her soulmate- since Morgan's only ever heard about Claire's past boyfriends, and on top of that, she's trans.

Her mind went back to what Morgan was previously hinting at:

'I'm not your soulmate, just go find him!'

'But you're straight…'

"Morgan, you are a wonderful woman," Claire slowly sat down next to her, "And you've only ever heard me talk about my soulmate being a man… right?" Morgan's hair and hands hid her face, but Claire could tell she nodded. "I've had girlfriends before, and I don't care if you're trans or not."

Claire hesitantly moved a little closer. "It's not that- well, kinda… I know you wouldn't care if I was transgender or not, but I didn't know you liked women. It's just that I have my deadname on your leg," Morgan sniffed and rubbed her eyes before looking at Claire and continuing, "My name's Morgan, and it should've been like that from the start… no? Like, does this mean I'll never actually pass with whatever universe-god-thing that created soulmates,"

It pained Claire's heart to hear her voice get shakier with each word. Locking eyes with Morgan's pink, tear-filled ones, she lightly put her hand on Morgan's cheek. 

This time, she felt a different feeling in her heart when Morgan closed her eyes and leaned into the touch, allowing the tears to finally fall.

Morgan softly smiled and grabbed Claire's wrist, bringing it down to her knees and crawling it with her other one. Without breaking eye contact, Claire moved her thumb to delicately caress Morgans.

"I want you to believe me when I say I'm not disappointed, Morgan," The smaller doctor felt Morgan play with her fingers and smiled. "I do… and I want you to too. There has been so many times where I actually hoped you were- will be," she corrected herself briefly, "-my soulmate. When I first met you I genuinely thought that that was it. That I had won the most beautiful woman in the world," 

Now it was Claire's turn to cry. She's never seen this side of Morgan before, has never been told something that sweet and genuine before either. And it was ultimately the best words she's ever heard in her entire life, it's just an added bonus that they're coming from Morgan Reznick.

Without a second thought, Claire pulled Morgan in and did something she never even thought of doing before.

It's just that her mind was screaming 'Kiss her. She's so soft and cute and she's actually one of the sweetest people you've ever met! Her lips look as soft as her hair, if not, even softer!' And that's all it took.

Morgan let out a small squeak of surprise and froze for a moment before kissing back. Claire felt her hand drop and then another smoothing out her jawline and sighed into the kiss.

She couldn't tell if it was Morgan or if it was just the first time kissing her soulmate, but it felt so perfect. 

Once they pulled apart and caught their breath, Morgan was the first one to talk. "You felt that too, right?" Claire couldn't help but smile wider, knowing exactly what she meant. "Yeah," She breathed out in awe. 

The two of them giggled before leaning in for another small peck. Morgan let her hand fall from the side of Claire's face, the way it trailed down her neck gave the small brunette goosebumps.

"Guess we'll have to know each other better bow, huh?" Claire bit her lip to keep her from smiling so much but to avail.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[tanjamikaelson]

LOVE FOR ETERNITY - PART 92

MASTERLIST

PART 92: | NOW OR NEVER |

Natali rushed back to the library and Kai followed right behind her. He was asking her questions to find out what she remembered, but Natali didn't give him any reply.

She took an old looking box and placed her hands on its sides, siphoning the spell that was protecting it.

  - “Are you going to tell me what you remembered?" Kai asked once again.

  - “This." Natali says as she takes out the book that was in the box.

  - "An old book?" Kai asks.

  - "Not just any old book." Natali looks at him, "This is a book of the damned."

  - "Is that supposed to tell me something?" Kai was confused.

  - "This is the oldest book of witchcraft there is. This book is created by no other than Lilith herself." Natali tells him, he could see that she is proud of herself for having it.

  - "Lilith?" Kai says.

  - "Yeah, mother of demons and first witch that walked this earth." Natali tells him, "I know most of the witches don't know how they were created, but we are one of the oldest magical creatures."

  - "Correct me if I'm wrong but demons don't exist?" Kai says.

  - "Well no, not in our world anymore. They were banished along with Lilith to another dimension. First witches were offspring of demons and humans, when witches realized that they can have power over them they banished them." Natali tells him, “By the very spell that is in this book.”

  - “And that spell can help us?" Kai says.

  - "It’s a spell that can open a door to another dimension, but no one has used it since then." Natali says, “It’s dark magic and requires an enormous source of power.”

  - “You think we have that much power?” Kai asks.

  - Natali extends her hands to the side, “We can siphon everything you see here and the ground we’re standing on, that way we’ll have enough power.” 

  - “If we siphon magic from the prison world it will collapse.” Kai tells her.

  - “But we’ll escape before it happens.” Natali says.

  - “Uh..” Kai was hesitant, but he knew that they won’t have another way to escape it, “What if it doesn’t work?”

  - “We both know this is the only way, and we can’t know anything until we try.” Natali tells him, “I believe that we can do this.”

  - “Okay. Anything else that we need?” Kai asked.

  - “Blood of a virgin and we need to find the weakest point, that would be the place where Bonnie was when she created the prison world.” Natali tells him, “Do you remember where she took you before she locked you here?”

  - “The only thing I remember was Damon and her before everything went black for me and the next thing I knew I was here.” Kai told her, “And how do you think we find the blood of a virgin?”

  - “I guess they were at Salvatore's house, but I will do a spell just to be sure.” Natali tells him, “We can’t find it, but we can purify the blood we have available, that should do the trick.'' Then she looks through the book for a spell.

  - “Should do the trick?” Kai questioned.

  - “Well, it will be much weaker, but it’s going to help.” Natali tells him, “Find a map, I need it.”

Kai took a map from the shelf and placed it on the table.

  - “I’m going to need your blood, soo..” Natali gives him a knife and Kai cuts the palm of his hand, the blood dripping in the middle of the map.

She started the incantation, “L'tael za ya weakest daeiai.” and the blood began moving towards the spot where Mystic Falls was.

  - “So, we need to go back there.” Kai remarks.

  - “I guess we can start packing and head there in the morning.” Natali says.

  - “What do we pack?” Kai asked.

  - “Every magical object that is here.” Natali tells him.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

Kol was sleeping in bed, two human girls were laying naked next to him. The song of his phone ringing woke him up. It was early in the morning, at least for him who was partying for two days and night straight. He somehow managed to answer his phone without even looking who was calling him.

  - “What the blood hell do you want?” Kol said.

  - “It is your sister, Rebekah. If you forgot.” Rebekah said.

  - “You didn’t answer my question.” Kol replies.

  - “I haven’t seen you for almost two months, where are you?” Rebekah asked.

  - “You can live without me.” Kol told her.

  - “I’m just wondering how you are.” Rebekah tells him.

  - “I’ve never been better.” Kol tells her, just then one girl who was sleeping next to him wakes up and asks him who he is talking to.

  - “No one important, darling.” Kol tells her.

  - “Who are you with?” Rebekah asked.

  - “With someone who’s going to be my breakfast.” Kol replies.

  - “Did you at least find a witch who can find Natali?” Rebekah asked.

  - “I stopped looking.” Kol told her.

  - “Then what the bloody hell are you doing?” Rebekah asked.

  - “Enjoying my time alone.” Kol replied, “If Natali doesn’t want to be found no one can help us. When she is ready she will reach out to one of us. Stop calling me.” Then he hung up.

  - “Who is Natali?” A girl lying next to him asked.

  - “My girlfriend.” Kol replies, “So about that breakfast.” he added before leaning towards her and starting to kiss her neck.

  - A girl tried to push him away, “Girlfriend? You didn’t tell us you have a girlfriend.”

  - “Yeah, because that’s not really the point.” Kol says.

  - “No wonder she doesn’t want to talk to you if you are a cheater.” A girl said.

  - That made Kol a little bit angry so he wrapped his hand around the girl's throat, squeezing it tightly, “It’s nothing both of us haven’t already done in a thousand years of living.”

  - She gives him a confused look, “What?”

  - “Oh right, darling, you probably never thought that you’ll meet a vampire.” Kol says.

  - “Vampires don’t exist.” A girl says.

  - “Yes, we do.” Kol tells her, “And my blood was in that wine that you drank last night, so when I kill you you’ll be just like me.” a girl wanted to scream but Kol put his hand over her mouth, “Now, we don’t want to wake up your friend, not just yet.”

Then he compelled her to be silent and sank his fangs into her neck. He drank her blood until she laid lifeless in his arms.

Kol laid back next to her and pulled her body so that her head was on his chest and the wound and blood on her neck was not visible. 

Not long after that other girl also woke up and she didn’t suspect anything. She had no idea what happened and what would happen next. Kol just told her that her friend is still sleeping, so she went to the bathroom to take a shower. When she came back to the room she saw her friend arguing with Kol, and there was a little bit of blood on her neck.

  - “Why would you do this to me?” She questioned.

  - “I’m bored, I need entertainment.” Kol tells her.

  - “You turned me into a vampire because you are bored?” She asked.

  - “Yeah, that’s usually how it works.” Kol simply relied.

  - “What are you talking about?” Other girl asked.

  - “Well, now that she is here you can finish your transition.” Kol said and suddenly appeared behind another girl. 

He grabbed her tightly and she began to struggle in panic. She felt an immense pain when Kol bit her neck. He drew a little blood before pulling away.

  - “Come here. I know you want it.” Kol told a girl who was in transition.

  - “Please, don’t do this.” A girl that he was holding says through tears.

  - “No, I’m not going to hurt my friend.” She says.

Kol walks towards her with a girl that he was holding, she was now between them. The blood was dripping down her neck, and Kol could see that a girl was trying to resist the urge she was feeling. 

  - “There’s really no need in trying to resist this. It’s much better being a vampire than a human, you should be thankful that I chose you over thousands of girls that I’ve met.” Kol tells her.

  - “I never wanted this.” She tells him.

  - Kol rolls his eyes, “You never even knew that you can have this.” then he wiped blood with his finger and grabbed her face before placing his finger on her lips and that was enough for her to finish the transition. 

He watched how her eyes were turning dark red and the veins began appearing under her eyes. Her friend was terrified of what was happening, tears were running down her cheeks as she watched her friend turn into a monster. She tried to resist Kol’s grip but he was too strong.

  - “Let’s finish her, you and me.” Kol said.

  - “No.” A girl replied and turned her face away from them.

  - “I know how you feel right now, you won’t be able to resist it much longer.”  Kol smirks at her and buries his nose into the hair of the mortal girl who he tightly held against his chest. She quivered in his arms and he could hear her heart beating loudly.

  - “Please..” The girl whimpered, feebly trying to push him away, “Plase, let me go. I-I won’t te-”

  - “You won’t tell anyone? I think we both know that’s a load of crap.” Kol sniggered.

He pressed his face in her neck, nuzzling against it. The girl wailed when she felt his mouth made contact with her skin. 

  - “Help, Claire.” she cried, “Please.”

  - “Yes Claire, help her.” Kol said, “You know how.”

  - “Leave her alone.” Claire exclaimed as she turned around.

Kol smirks at her and tilts her friend head to the side, before he sinks his fangs directly into her carotid artery. Claire could barely watch him, she saw how much he enjoyed it, and at the smell of fresh blood she felt the urge again. Kol moaned, bringing her neck closer to him, taking in more blood. He didn’t want to be the one that kills her, so after a few more pulls he stopped feeding. His head snapped to Claire. 

  - “You know, dining alone does get rather boring.” Kol told her, then he pushed a girl towards Claire and she caught her. Girl's neck with an open wound was so close to Claire's mouth, she could smell blood even more now.

Claire closed her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to resist the urge. It was no use, however. The intoxicating smell of blood was too much and she was simply powerless to resist any longer. 

Her friend's head was tilted back to rest on her shoulder, exposing her throat to her. She let out a gasp as Claire slowly ran her tongue along her neck. She paused briefly, before moving to lick the blood. Her upper fangs became visible as they peeked slightly from behind her lips. She sighed in bliss against her neck, pressing her fangs against her skin. She slowly applied pressure, her fangs sinking into her flesh. 

She tasted amazing, and it didn’t take long for Claire to drain her to the last drop. A girl fell down to the floor as Claire released hold on her. 

She saw Kol watching her, wide-eyes and amazed.

  - “I told you, it feels amazing.” Kol tells her.

  - “No it doesn’t, I just killed my friend.” Claire told him, “Why? Why did you want me to kill her and not someone else?”

  - Well, where’s the fun in that?” Kol says with a devilish smile, “I enjoyed watching you struggle, and then feeding on her, uh, that was just hot.”

  - “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re a psycho.” Claire tells him.

  - Kol shrugs, “I’ve been called worse."

Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing, she wished she could go back in time and not leave the night club with him. 

She started walking towards the door, but Kol stopped her.

  - “Where do you think you’re going?” Kol asks.

  - “You got what you wanted, now let me go.” Claire told him.

  - “No. I want you to stay with me, keep me company.” Kol tells her.

  - “I heard you when you were talking on the phone, you said you want to be alone.” Claire pointed out.

  - “That was my sister, she bothers me and I don’t want her around.” Kol says.

  - “She bothers you about that girl, Natali?” Claire asked.

  - Kol let out a sigh, “That’s one of the reasons.”

  - “So, what happened, what did you do?” Claire questioned.

  - “Why do you think I did anything?” Kol asks.

  - “Well you said that she doesn’t want to be found, so I’m guessing you did something and now she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Claire told him. 

  - “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?” Kol says.

  - “What did you do?” Claire asks.

  - “None of your business.” Kol quickly replies.

  - “If you want me to stay, tell me.” Claire said.

  - “You know, I can compel you and make you do anything I want so your plan won’t work.” Kol tells her.

  - “You would do that already if you wanted, but that is not part of the fun, isn’t it?” Claire told him.

  - Kol shakes his head in disbelief, “Okay, fine. I killed her family, a thousand years ago, and she found out about it recently.” 

  - “That’s messed up.” Claire stated, “Well, you obviously did change considering what you did to me and my friend.”

  - “I’m not the one who killed her.” Kol tells her, smile forming on his face.

  - Claire shakes her head, “ Unbelievable.” Then she turns around and takes a few steps towards the door. But after a moment she was met with Kol in front of her.

  - “That wasn't our deal.” Kol tells her.

  - “No one in their right mind would stay with you.” Claire snapped at him.

  - Kol clenched his jaw and quickly grabbed her chin with his hands, he looked into her eyes and said, “You’ll stay with me.” and she didn’t have a choice but to obey.

⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡ ⚜ ✡

AT THE PRISON WORLD

Natali and Kai arrived back at the Mystic Falls and to the Salvatore's mansion. The weakest point of the prison world was in the middle of the living room. The two of them drew a big pentagram on the floor and made a circle of salt, where they put all of the magical objects that they could find.

They placed a big bowl of purified human blood in the middle on the pentagram and stood on the each side of it, holding their hands together they started a spell, saying in unison, “Sasa tumesimama kwenye kizingiti hiki cha mlango wa ulimwengu mwingine, na tunajiandaa kwa kufunguliwa kwake. Fungua mlango kwa ulimwengu wetu sasa. Mlango mzuri, fungua mwisho!”

There were dark red candles placed around the pentagram and they were lit as the two of them chanted a spell. As they were chanting more loudly and harshly and siphoning magic from the prison world, the ground began trembling beneath them and the electricity began fizzling in and out. 

Suddenly the ground beneath them cracked open and they fell through the portal. Before they realized what happened, they heard a car siren. Natali reacted quickly and reached her hand out towards the car, saying a spell under her breath to stop it right in front of them. Car driver gripped the steering wheel and looked wide-eyed at them, processing what just happened and how they appeared in the middle of the road out of nowhere.

  - “So, it worked.” Kai remarks. 

  - “I told you.” Natali tells him with a smile, “Now let’s have a proper meal.” Then she walked towards the car door and ripped them open. The driver was in shock.

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MASTERLIST

Tags: @mikaelsonsmagic   @p3nny4urth0ught5   @cute-freak27   @ias-born  @superhalsteads  @characterobsessed   @hinata7346   @luiza-4-ever  @huntress1428  @infiniteoblivion21 @watersenthusiast

[soysaucecas]

oooh for the ask game 24, 30, and 44!

MAGPIE MY BELOVED HELLO

24. What are your favorite episodes?

The only episodes I've really watched are TMWWBK (which is my favorite episode and I'm certain would still be my favorite if I watched every single one because it has the only SPN character and the only SPN line), The French Mistake (which was funny enough but honestly in the Just Okay category for me, which makes me pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy actually watching SPN if this is one of the funniest/highest-rated eps), and Reading Is Fundamental (my best friend was watching it and asked me if I wanted to hop on Discord, I thought it might be fun to see Kevin's first introduction but instead this ep found the two of us taking like 90 minutes to get through it bc we kept pausing and screaming (derogatory) as the model minority stereotype jokes piled up and up and up... Unfortunately not a favorite even if we got Meg AND the "pull my finger" joke AND the "Sorry" shot). Other than TMWWBK, from clipping and transcript-reading, I like Wayward Sisters (who doesn't?), The Things We Left Behind (Claire!!!! Cas trying to be a dad! The diner scene aka my favorite destiel scene of all time bc being in love just looks so good on Cas! Also the parallels between Claire and Randy and teen Dean and the adults at that club in his story... woof.), Golden Time (Eileen gets to be HERE and be sad and loved and fight people with ghost powers and Cas gets to do a cool speech and a stabbing and do the Asian community a favor), and Lucifer Rising (just immensely sexy on all counts for Ruby, Sam, Cas, and myself). Also I am SO fond of Steve!Cas so I'll add Heaven Can't Wait even if I barely know anything about it.

30. What is an unpopular opinion or headcanon you have about the show?

Ooh okay hm I think. So I adore confession scene, but I don't think the "I cared about the whole world because of you" is like. The Objective Truth the way that most bloggers seem to take it. Cas was lobotomized tons of times before he met Dean, he was described as coming off the line with a crack in his chassis, he's always been the weird little angel who likes humanity too much! I don't think Dean came first, and although gay love was part of what helped Cas invent free will, he *Ruby voice* didn't need the feather to fly, Dumbo! I do think Cas believes what he says in the moment, but I also think he sorta... made himself believe it? This is probably just me deciding that cas-coding should go both ways, but like. I very much crush as a coping mechanism and I very much overascribe my actions to love because it simply seems more noble/poetic to do so. Being miserable because school is hard is cringefail but being miserable because of unrequited love is Good Shit. And I have been in unrequited love with my best friend for at least 7 years (probably 9 but I didn't realize it earlier) and if you asked I would 100% say that she taught me love and defined love for me and that she will be my first and last, but I also know that that is not entirely true; it's just the narrative that I like for myself. And I think that being in an Empty deal contingent on whether or not he LETS himself feel happy would lead Cas to do plenty of mental maneuvering, which I think involved intentional self-poor-little-meow-meow-ification via overascribing his choices and happiness to Dean (and I also think he'd already been doing that for a while just because of personal self-worth issues and because it's a nice narrative). I know as Cas's last Moment on the show it was probably written to be The Objective Truth, but I am perceiving him and I say no.

44. If you could write an episode of Supernatural, what would happen?

Oh scream okay! This is a fun one! I am going to start out with two ideas from other people:

1. Months ago Nate from the pocnatural discord had the idea of an episode from the "monster"'s perspective where the Winchesters are just clearly the antagonists while not doing anything different than they usually do. I think the idea was that all these supernatural beings live in a self-regulating community together and we have one Very Likable pov character who's a member of this community, but one of the newer members messes up one day and kills someone and the Winchesters come on a case and wreak havoc on this Very Much Functioning (there was going to be a whole rehab and reparations thing for the new member who messed up!) system and kill pov character and in the end you just HATE Sam and Dean for it.

2. It's hard to adapt anything from bad moon rising (aka my favorite spn fic) very well because the point of an Arab Winchesters season 1 rewrite is that it doesn't really work with the white characters we have now, but I think I could see a version of chapter 2 adapted as long as Haley (an Ojibwe hunter who lives in the area affected by what Sam and Dean are hunting) takes the lead. I'd especially like to see this section:

Dean laughs, a little disbelievingly. The question has never crossed his mind. “Do you like it?”

This gives Haley no pause at all. “Yeah,” she says. “I mean, it’s not really about killing monsters, though, for me. Or, it’s not always about killing monsters. It’s about community. Not violence. It’s a spiritual thing to build a home, you know?”

“Oh,” Dean says. He can’t think of anything else to say. It has never crossed his mind before that hunting could be compatible with a community.

I don't have any original episode ideas to add to the hunting discourse, so we're on to my ideas about character-driven eps. I think I would like to see a version of my sastiel possession fic (ty again for beta-ing that! you're a real one) as an ep around the time of 9.11 because Sam deserves to work through their trauma, but idk what the Dean plot should be for that. Another thing I would like very much is TFW drunk history storytime (so like. Tall Tales bass boosted), where for some reason they all need to go over what they were doing during Stanford era but each of them is telling someone else's story. It's gonna be either Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam or Dean->Sam->Cas->Dean. It starts out very funny (they all have terrible wigs and makeup in the flashbacks. Cas is Jimmy wearing a giant mask with googly eyes on it.) but as it goes on it gets increasingly sad how much these three don't really know each other.

In the Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam episode, Sam's telling of Dean's past veers wildly between "crushing pussy and killing things" and "feels like absolute shit all the time" and it's funny but Not Right and afterwards Dean goes "I didn't know you thought of me that way" and Sam says "... I am basically reading off the voicemails you left me back then" and Dean has to sit there and contend with the mythology he himself wrote for Sam to believe in. Dean->Cas provides the comedic beats for the episode as Dean awkwardly narrates Cas's Life As A Weird Little Guy who watches trees grow and heals babies and in the end Dean goes "so how did I do" and Cas is like "well actually I was either getting lobotomized or murdering people so like 3/10?" The moral of this plot line is that Dean is bi. Cas gives a fairly faithful retelling of Sam living her trans little life at Stanford and veering between trying to be Normal and being a total weirdgirl and feeling guilty and angry and happy and free. It becomes clear that Cas admires Sam a lot (but also feels like. guilt and some self-recrimination for not being that) for rebelling from their dad and exploring their queerness during a time Cas was still to his knowledge in total soldier mode, and Sam is having an a_good_soldier's Thesis 5 moment about how she failed the kid she used to be and how very sorry they are about all the things that happened to them, and Dean hates that this is the first he's hearing about so much of this but is also quite emo about the parts where Sam is struggling. The ep ends with them all in the same room not looking at each other and not knowing if they want to group hug or never talk again.

Dean->Sam->Cas episode is similar but the storytelling dissolves a lot faster as it becomes clearer way faster how much their own emotions are getting in the way. Dean is upset that Sam could leave their family so easily and probably swing a normal life, Sam keeps wondering what it would be like to live millennia just KNOWING that you were right and good and clean, and Cas is gay and veering between fitting Dean's life into a larger Righteous Man narrative and just being very tender (and sad and angry) about Dean's pain. Episode ends in a rather cathartic shouting match where they all end up apologizing to each other for many things.

Oh also I would like to see Cassie again but I don't have an episode in mind there. Also would love to see Kaia adjusting to life in Sioux Falls and befriending the others and dealing with Bad Place trauma.

tysm for the questions sorry for taking so long!

(ask game)

[owlways-and-forever]

Not Giving Up

Summary: With Neil going into septic shock, Claire is desperate to try anything that might save him. Now she just has to convince Dr. Lim to do the same, and see if her gamble will pay off. Starts after the conversation about religion.

A/N: I have very little medical knowledge, so I'm skipping right over the surgical bit. This is just a short, quickly written little one shot because I just finished s3 last night, and I just cannot deal with that. I'm sure there will be more Melendaire to come though, because I desperately need them.

Idk if y’all are interested in this but figured I’d tag yall @shaunthegooddoctor @neilrnelendez . If y’all (or anyone else) want to be tagged in any future TGD fics (in which Neil will never die before he’s 80) let me know :)

WC: 1651 | Read on: AO3, FFnet

o . o . o

“Claire, he’s got severe sepsis,” Audrey commented, her expression beyond sad. “Even if he did recover, he’d be immunocompromised. He’d never be allowed back in an OR.”

“‘He’d be alive ,” Claire protested, desperation creeping into her voice. “Dr. Lim, are you really going to deny him a life-saving procedure just because his quality of life might decrease?”

Audrey hesitated, trying to figure out what she would do if this were any other patient. What if it was a stranger? It  was too hard to imagine. What if it were Andrews? Or someone who wasn’t so deeply entrenched in her heart? But it was no good, she just couldn’t untangle her feelings for Neil.

“Please, Dr. Lim, just let me take it to Melendez and see if he wants it,” Claire pleaded. “If I talk to him…”

“No,” Audrey interjected firmly. She pulled the resident aside, to a miraculously empty patient’s room. She dropped her voice, no longer speaking as Chief of Surgery, but woman to woman. “Claire, he will do anything you ask him to, even if it’s not in his best interest. He won’t care, he’ll do what you say without batting an eye. You have to know how he feels about you.”

“I…” Claire stammered, not sure how to answer that. Being in love with your boss was awkward enough, but it was even more so when his ex-girlfriend was his boss and the one standing in front of you arguing about how to save his life.

“It’s okay,” Audrey soothed. “It doesn’t bother me. I care about him immensely, but it’s different with you. He’s different. It’s fine, I’m not in love with him. But you are, Claire, and that means you can’t be impartial about this. You’ll do anything to save him, and he’ll agree to anything to make you happy. That’s dangerous.”

“Then you talk to him about it,” Claire bargained, not giving up that easily.

“Frankly, I don’t think I’m impartial enough,” she replied, fixing Claire with a wry frown as she considered the options carefully. This was the hardest part of being Chief, putting aside your feelings to make big decisions. “Murphy just got back to the hospital. Tell him your idea and have him pitch it to Melendez. Without you in the room. If Neil consents I’ll get Andrews to do the surgery.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Audrey cut her off.

“I can’t do it, Claire, I just can’t. Andrews may not be as good as me, but he’s still a damn good surgeon,” she said, attempting a joke.

Claire nodded and scurried away, on a mission to find Shaun as fast as possible. Time was of the essence, after all.

o . o . o

She sat in the chair reserved for family and friends, bouncing her leg up and down, elbows on her knees and her chin resting on her clasped hands. Waiting was agony, and she needed it to be over. She needed to know, one way or another, what was going to happen. But mostly she needed him to be alive.

Claire’s eyes flicked from his body, laying complacent on the bed, to the monitors that were beeping his vitals. Still no change. Which was good, because he wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t awake yet either.

She lost track of how long she had been sitting there, waiting for Neil to wake up. Exhausted, she was beginning to drift in and out of consciousness, not quite sleeping, but not entirely aware of the room around her either. She didn’t see his eyes flutter open, just narrow enough to see her figure sitting there, holding a vigil, the rosary she’d gotten for him tightly clasped in her fingers.

“Geez, you’d think I was dying or something,” Neil quipped, his voice barely a whisper.

Claire’s eyes snapped up, meeting his and taking in his full, conscious state. He had the ghost of a smile on his lips, and his eyes were hinting at their usual sparkle. Neil was awake, and his vitals were still good. She felt like hyperventilating and crying with happiness. He was going to be alright. She stood, hands still clasped in front of her face, tears building up in her eyes.

“Hey, come here,” he beckoned, his tone soothing.

Claire obediently crossed the little room until her thighs bumped against the hospital bed’s mattress. She wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and rest her head on his shoulder, sob her relief into his papery gown. Neil reached for her as much as he was able, only strong enough to lift his arm a few inches from the bed, but Claire caught his hand in one of her own, sitting down softly on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” he croaked, his throat still raw and dry from the surgery. “Shaun told me it was your idea.”

“Thank you for doing it,” she whispered in reply. Suddenly, Claire felt overcome with guilt. Had she been selfish to insist on this procedure? He was alive but it might have changed his whole life, and not for the better. “You might not be able to operate again though.”

“I know,” Neil replied, nodding slightly, the oxygen tube bunching under his chin at the motion. “But there are worse things.”

“Yeah? Like what?” she sniffed, having trouble believing that there could be anything worse for him than a life on the sidelines.

“Like never telling your friend that you’re completely in love with her,” he said, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling as if he was asking god to give him the courage to say what he needed to. Or maybe he was just in pain, his abdomen had been carved open hours earlier, after all.

Claire tamped down any hope she felt at the statement. He had, after all, stopped her when she’d tried to tell him about her feelings earlier in the night. Why else if not to save her the embarrassment of confessing her love to someone who didn’t reciprocate? Even if it had saved his life, she was still a fool for falling in love with her boss.

“Claire?” he asked, looking at her significantly as his voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Was ‘friend’ too vague? Should I have said ‘star resident’ instead?”

Well there was absolutely no way he was talking about Morgan.

“Me?” Her voice failed her, but it didn’t matter. He understood.

“Yeah, you,” he whispered, a shy smile appearing. “I love you, Claire.”

“Ohthankgod,” she breathed, her body relaxing a little at his words. “I love you too.”

“I know,” he answered, confident in a way that only Neil could be. “Why else would you try so hard to save me?”

It was meant to be a joke, but they both knew there was some element of truth to it. She loved him so much that she just couldn’t let him go. She smiled and snuggled in next to him, encouraged by his words and his prognosis. After that night, she just wanted to hang onto him and never let go.

“Claire?” Neil said hesitantly, brushing his nose softly against her forehead and following the touch with a gentle kiss over the same spot.

She craned her neck to look at him, smiling at him to prompt him further.

“When I get out of here, I don’t want to take things slow.” His expression was thoughtful and sincere, conveying that he meant every word he said with utter certainty. “I don’t mean physically, that’s… I’ll follow your lead, and there’s no rush there. Hell, my doctor may not clear me for much exertion for a while.”

They both grinned at the stupid joke.

“But,” he continued, “I don’t want to hide things or take it one day at a time or anything like that. Which is maybe stupid, given how many relationships I’ve killed in this hospital. But I know you’re different, Claire, and I… I just want to be with you.”

“You sound like you’re about to propose,” she teased, mostly because she wasn’t used to hearing him take that tone. Sure of what he wants, but nervous how she might react.

“If I had a ring, I might be tempted,” he replied, laughing a little. “But you can go ahead and take the spare apartment keys that are in my office, because I want you there as much as you want to be. Always, if I’m really honest.”

“That sounds nice,” Claire answered, fighting a yawn.

Despite her desire to stay awake and continue their conversation, exhaustion was finally catching up with her now that the adrenaline had worn off. She wriggled a little bit until she was lying on her side, her arm draped over his chest so that her hand could curl around the far side of his neck, and one leg resting gently on top of his. Neil slid his arm beneath her ribs, wrapping it around her waist so he could hold her tight as she dropped her head against his chest, savouring the feel of his heart beating.

“Get some sleep, Claire. I love you,” he whispered, even as she was already drifting off into a dreamland, and he pressed a kiss into her curls, breathing deeply. He was more than content holding her like that, falling back asleep with her small frame clinging to him.

Dr. Lim appeared in the doorway to check on her patient, smiling at the setup she found. Quietly, she backed away, sliding the glass door just so that the couple wouldn’t be disturbed. They’d had a long road to get to where they were, and they would have a lot of challenges ahead of them. The least she could do was give them one night of peace, where it didn’t matter that he was an attending and she was his resident.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Be honest with me (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! Guess who's back? Back from dead? Just kidding, I'm still dead. My brain hurts so much, but I needed a break or I would go crazy. I started writing it a few days back and just now got the inspiration to finish it, so here we are.

Also, guess who got totally addicted to Endless Summer (thanks, K. K., I know, I was stupid, you can taunt me with it any time you want, hun :D <3) and Jake is basically my husband now

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495037

Enjoy! <3

Tag list:   @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352 , @aloehasrose , @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie,@choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @yesimacerealkiller, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

----------

“Give me all the food I can get.” She stated as she sat down by the table, the music playing in the bar blending with her words a little. Sienna pushed pizza her way, grinning as Bryce tried to grab a slice.

“Ah, ah, ah. No more pizza for you. She had a long day, she earned it.” she shook her head, swatting his hand to the side. His face twisted in mock pain, sliding away from her.

“Herondale likes me, so one slice won’t be a problem, right?” he asked, pleading her with his eyes, to which she laughed, biting into the first slice, indicating a ‘no’ with her movements.

“Nof a shanse.” She spoke with her mouth full, letting the conversation around her resume.

They had a long day behind them. A massive accident, lots of victims and lots of work. Their hands were full of people in pain and in despair. It was only normal for them to go out, despite being tired, on the verge of falling asleep, even if only to eat and have one drink. It was getting late and they were beginning to lean on each other, laughing with last bits of their energy. Claire’s phone screen lit up before an incoming call flashed across it. She grabbed it, swiping her finger to take it, excusing herself from her company.

“Hello?” she muttered, yawning, rubbing her fingers over her closed eyes, trying to stay awake. She was met with a long moment of silence, nothing could be heard, and she was about to hang up, when she heard the softest sound.

“Claire?” a voice on the other end slurred, most definitely drunk and tired. She didn’t have time to look at the ID of the caller, but one word was enough to tell her that Ethan was on the other end of the conversation. Her heart sped up without her consent, her skin tingling at the sound of his voice.

“Ethan? Are you okay?” she asked, more sober and awake now, her senses tuned to him and what he was saying. He laughed, a sound of glass hitting the table in the background.

“I’m fine… I think… You know what, no- I’m not.” He stumbled over his thoughts, pausing a couple of times, most likely to take a sip of whatever alcohol drink he was having. “I miss you.”

“Ethan-“

“I love you, Claire. It’s just that… I don’t even know what… why do we… why do I have to restrain myself… damn me and my self-control.” he confessed, stunning her into silence. She listened as he continued to talk, not sure what to say or how to react.

She wasn’t sure when it occurred to her that he basically confessed his love for her. Maybe it was when he started speaking without any sense, maybe it was when he repeated it, at least five times. Her eyes got wide when through all the layers of tiredness, alcohol and fear the realization settled in. He said he loved her.

They weren’t together. They agreed to put a stop to this, almost two years now they’ve been walking the line with a wall between them. If she had to be completely honest, she wasn’t sure how she felt anymore. They were friends, that much she knew. Ethan was her person, her partner in crime, even if not literally, and she knew he considered her the same for him. Endless and countless nights, hung over piles upon piles of paperwork, patient charts, copious amounts of coffee and chocolate, falling asleep by the desk only to be woken up by the sound of the hospital being brought back to life after a long night. They always lingered a moment too long when they were separating, smiles were always just that much softer, gestures that much gentler.

He was a different person when he was with her, and he was beginning to admit it to himself. Deep inside he knew that he might never get over his feelings for her. During the day he managed to keep his raging emotions at bay, except for every single time he so much as saw her. In moments like those, his heartbeat would pick up, his face would get flushed and he would have to take a few deep breaths to calm down. It seemed ridiculous, the fact that no matter how much time has passed or will pass, he couldn’t become immune to her. She was like a disease that he couldn’t cure, or maybe he didn’t want to cure himself from her.

No matter the reason, here he was, calling her, drunk, and confessing his love for her. Claire was still as confused as she could possibly be, but he kept on talking, mumbling, taking long breaks before speaking again. In the meantime, she bid her friends goodbye, giving them some lame excuse about being tired and wanting to get some sleep. She continued to listen to him as she drove back to her apartment, as she opened the door, as she sat down on her bed with a cup of steaming tea.

“Ethan?” she asked when he stopped talking and remained silent for more than ten minutes. It was more than probable that he simply fell asleep or his phone fell from his hand and he was too unstable in his movements to pick it up.

Her line of thoughts was interrupted by a doorbell, cutting through the silence. Without even thinking about it, she moved to the hall to answer, thinking that it was her friends, simply too wasted to get their own keys. Door fell open and her breath got taken away. She’s never seen him this drunk or tired, he looked like he was running and he was soaked from the rain that started to fall from the sky as soon as she got home. His breathing was labored, shoulders slumped, his hair stuck to his head, falling onto his forehead. He was looking at her with that heavy gaze, his eyes shining brightly in the night, piercing through her from beneath his thick lashes, sending a spark through her.

“Claire-“ he took a hesitant step towards her, falling towards her, his arms wrapping loosely around her waist. She grabbed him tightly, preventing them both from falling. Pressing the door shut, she steered them towards her room, bumping into the doorframe once or twice, wincing in pain.

When she finally managed to get them steady, she took half a step back, just to see him looking at her already. There was something hidden in his eyes, something deep and intense, swirling there, catching the scarce light in the room. He lifted his hand to her cheeks, stroking her lips with his thumb, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“How I long to kiss you…” he whispered, his voice breaking , getting smaller and softer. He embraced her once more, burying his face in her hair, pressing a lingering kiss to her neck.

Claire stroked his hair in a soothing manner, unsure how to react. He was saying all the things she wanted to hear from him, but he was also drunk, so it was more than likely that he would not remember it the next day. He breathed deeply, inhaling her scent like it was all he needed to live, before leaning back, kissing her cheek and then forehead, his eyes falling shut.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed, you should get some sleep.” She muttered, pulling him by his hand, sitting him down and helping him lie down. He laced their fingers together, squeezing them tightly before he fell asleep.

She sat down by his side, covering him with a blanket, looking at him, deep in her thoughts. It must have been the most bizarre night of her life in the past few years. She wondered what caused that reaction, what prompted him to call her, what was the reason for him come here, to open up to her, to tell her everything without any inhibitions or hesitation. He seemed to be so sure, so determined to let her know that…

He loved her.

There was no way of knowing how aware he was that he told her that. Time would tell, in few hours he would wake up, see where he was and decide what to do next. Decide if he wanted to take that back, pretend it never happened, or if he wanted to own up to his feelings and act upon them.

Claire sat down on the loveseat, picking up another blanket and drifting off to dreamless sleep.

--- --- ---

The first thing she could feel the next morning was the soft breath, tickling her neck, and a pair of arms, wrapped securely around her. His scent reached her senses, overwhelming her immensely and she got even more confused. She also noticed that she was lying in her bed, covered by the same blanket she covered Ethan the night before. Her whole body became tense as she wasn’t sure what to make out of the situation she found herself in.

“I can feel you being awake, Rookie, you don’t fool me.” He muttered into her ear, his grip on her tightening. Her muscles relaxed a little, only slightly, when she didn’t hear even a hint of embarrassment or anger in his voice.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, refusing to turn around to face him. As soon as she would do it, they would have to face the reality of the previous evening existing in their history and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

“My head hurts way less than I expected it to, and I did manage to get some sleep, which is definitely working in my benefit.” He responded, and she couldn’t see him, but the smug undertone of his voice was clear as day.

“How did I get to bed? I remember falling asleep in the loveseat…”

“I woke up in the middle of the night, at first very confused, until I remembered where I was, and then I saw you there, in the most uncomfortable position ever known to human kind. I couldn’t bring myself to let you suffer. And besides, it is your bed, you have more right to sleep in it than I do, so it was only fitting that I move you to get some proper rest.”

Silence fell upon them, as heavy as fog in the middle of the night, clouding their minds. They got dressed without speaking one word to each other, and it was killing them from the inside. They’ve been through so much together, and yet, when it came to their feelings, there seemed to be this roaring chasm that separated them, seemingly impossible to cross.

Or so it seemed. Because she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“So are we just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialed me to tell me you love me?” she asked in one breath, her words fast and for the most part incoherent, but he understood them all too well.

His stomach squeezed as she confronted him about his actions, staring at him with equal parts boldness and uneasiness. A tempest of emotions they felt around each other was the strongest sensation either of them have ever felt, like a magnet that pulled them towards one another.

“I-“ their eyes met as he tried to justify his behavior, tried to come up with a believable excuse for his slip of control, but the damage was done. He told her he loved her, there was no coming back from it. A point of no return. “I don’t know what to tell you. What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me the truth.” She took a step towards him, then another, until they were face to face. Green met blue and his hand flew up to cup her cheek in his palm, much like he did the night before. “I want you to be honest with me. That much you owe me.”

“Honest about what?” he chose to play dumb, something he hated in other people. She made him act recklessly, with his heart instead of his head. She was messing with his head, and he would let her do it, time and time again.

“Us. Was what you said true?” she asked quietly, searching for answers in his blue irises. They stared at one another, waiting for the other to make a move. “Do you love me?”

“I do.” He answered before fitting his lips to hers in a softest of kisses.

[the-abominable-hulk]

jack kline having two older siblings -- kevin tran and claire novak [like, im bringing kevin back to l i f e because the writers are always doing him wrong] and they sneak out at night and the tree of them sleep in a shared treehouse together sometimes and and and they'll have a really nice car [i'll probably take one from the fast and furious movies]

I can 100000% get behind them being siblings! (Also sorry I didn’t get to this yesterday, but I had many thoughts and wanted to actually take the time to write them out skdjsk)

• Kevin lives before this by banishing Gadreel instead of Gadreel killing him. Because he deserved better than that!! They really did do him so dirty ://

• Once things settled down with the tablets Kevin had a lot more freedom, so he probably travels between the bunker, and his mom’s home. Taking turns staying at both. (He would go on a few hunts with the Winchester’s at one point + be completely useless and end up staying at the bunker and helping from there instead but that’s not of import for the Jack + Kevin + Claire headcanons).

• The first time he meets Jack it would be before Castiel returned. I like the idea of Jack chilling in the library or war room watching some sy-fy movie that he found on Netflix or Sam recommended and Kevin just welcomes himself like usual

• The Winchester’s are much too self involved and probably didn’t bother telling Kevin that Jack had been born, even though he knew that Lucifer was having a son and that was terrifying to him.

• ”Hello. I’m Jack”

“Lucifer’s son?!”

Kevin internally: “you can’t just ask people if they’re the son of Satan. C’mon man”

• Kevin’s lowkey terrified at first considers leaving then and there, but ends up staying and is fairly distant from Jack.

• but then Kevin hears the way Sam seems to truly believe in him. Sees first hand that Jack is truly terrified of being like his father, and that makes the kid a lot more likable

• plus maybe Kevin found seeing Jack struggle to tie his shoes before he got his Velcro’s to be endearing. He seemed more like a kid than evil.

• The first time they actually talk is in the kitchen while Jack is eating cookie crunch at like,,, 3am

• it’s canon that Jack doesn’t require much sleep + I headcanon that Kevin has major sleep troubles after everything with the tablets, so maybe they make midnight snacking/movies a thing they do together on the regular?? And that’s when they really start to bond?

• and Jack learns to cling onto anyone who doesn’t seem to immediately hate him because of how quickly Dean made his mind up about him

• Also I like the idea that Sam does try to like tutor Jack on some school stuff like math/reading/history etc so he has a better understanding of the knowledge if it ever does become necessary, but a lot of the times he just,,, doesn’t have the time to. And Kevin would really pick up the slack and probably teach Jack what he could

• By the time that Jack met Claire I imagine that Castiel would be back

• At first I imagine things between them would be really strained— or at the very least from Claire’s end it would be

• Seeing Castiel father someone else (because he’s possessing Jimmy’s vessel) MUST be painful af

• She probably takes her anger about the situation out on Jack to an extent despite it not being his fault

• Jack’s upset thinking that there’s something wrong with him/she doesn’t like him when that’s really not the case

• Castiel probably has to explain to Jack why she’s upset, and Jack takes it a lot less personal after that

• Insert Claire & Castiel heart to heart as well about how Cas cares immensely about her & that she should try to go easier on Jack

• She offers Jack a 3 musketeers as a peace offering and Jack is ECSTATIC that things seem to be going better

• they still have their moments of being tense/Claire struggling with it but for the most part things are in the right direction

• it takes awhile for things with Jack & Claire to get to a good place, but I could see them texting one another fairly often and not seeing each other in person much at first— maybe they facetime? Claire teaches Jack about memes— he says “OK Boomer” to Dean because she told him to it’s DEVASTATING for Dean— Sam and Kevin would be SO ENTERTAINED— If Castiel is there he’s confused as to what it means/why Dean seems angry

• Also Jack and Claire??? Mlm wlw solidarity (bc Jack is gay and no one can take that headcanon from me— like he’s not really interested in anyone but I love the idea of him having a fairly innocent crush on some guy he meets and wanting to hold his hand yknow?)

• When Kevin and Claire first meet they’re both kind of indifferent/tolerate each other because of Jack

• Kevin would lowkey feel left out because Claire and Jack are both like Castiel’s adopted kid to an extent

• Claire lowkey feels left out because Kevin and Jack already seem fairly close

• so it’s just,,,, kind of awkward at first Bc theyre not trying to do this high school jealousy bullshit because they’re adults (even though at moments they are kind of still childish because they can be with one another and that ability was ripped from them so early)

• Kevin and Claire eventually would probably be able to bond about having a normal life at one point only to have it ripped away from them

• they’re both v snarky at times, and probably bicker about EVERYTHING— because of the way they bicker sometimes people comment about Claire and Kevin being like an old married couple/a good possible couple and they’re both DISGUSTED IMMEDIATELY when they hear that

• Claire has always considered herself the “cool” person and is lost as to how to she ended up being so close to these nerds— like she has an existential crisis while watching Kevin and Jack bicker about Star Wars (which she actually does enjoy once she watches)

• The three of them are really protective of one another— specifically Kevin and Claire over Jack because he’s the youngest, and most often in serious danger— but he’s just as protective over them and Kevin & Claire are protective over each other a lot too

• Everyone around them is so PLEASED they get along like they do because they all had their childhoods ripped from them and deserve some sort of friendship/happiness

•They also probably have a group chat that they text each other on constantly when they can’t see each other in person

• Claire and Kevin’s favorite pastime is to playfully make fun of Sam & Dean— Jack is confused at first but learns that it’s all in good fun quickly

• also something I want to add is that while Castiel doesn’t view Kevin his kid the same way he views Claire and Jack

• Castiel feels protective of him because Kevin’s a prophet of the lord. It was heavens job to protect him and they failed MISERABLY. So now he takes it as his personal duty

• and tbh I could see Castiel in time especially when he sees how close he is to Jack and Claire feeling a more fatherly protection over him too (Bc I love dadstiel)

Okay so for the treehouse what were you thinking??

Like did you imagine like,,, they build one or they find an abandoned one somewhere or Jack sees a treehouse on TV and decides he wants one so he snaps his fingers and suddenly he creates one or??? I like the idea of a treehouse and I’d love to hear more of what you had in mind for that!!!

[renee-writer]

Bodyguard Chapter 8 Battling An Unseen Enemy

He lifts her shivering body against his chest as they exit the limo. He doesn’t say a word. In a complete rage, not at any person, but at the unseen enemy raging in her. Mary enters the passcode and he, carrying Claire, follows her up to Claire's room.

He places her gently on the bed then removes her shoes, rubbing the marks left by their straps, instinctley. Mary, meanwhile, is getting her out of the rest of her constraining garments. Jamie doesn't think to leave and isn't asked to. He stays at her feet, gently rubbing the tension out as Mary gets her changed into a soft gown. They then tuck her, still shivering, under the covers.

“What now? What else can we do to help?” Jamie whispers to Mary. Claire flinches from the bed and Mary leads him into the next room, his.

“Sorry,” she is still whispering, “she is very noise sensitive right now. Noise, light, touch, smells, all overwhelm her hypersensitive nerves. She needs a completely quiet room, completely dark, and time. To sleep it off.”

“That is all! That is all we can do for her!”

“Shh, I know it is frustrating. She is my own blood. I can’t stand to see her suffer so. But yes, Mr. Fraser, that is all we can do. She is to far gone for anything but time and sleep to work.”

“Please tell me she has more then a day off.”

“She does. Three days. By our order. “She looks to him and he nods. Yes, he will back her up with Gillian. “I will go tell her. You may sit by her bed. Just no noise. None.”

“Gotcha.” Mary slips out of the suite and Jamie takes a seat beside his~ client technically~ but she is more. She sleeps but not easily. Even in the dark, he can tell. Trained to be able to see fairly well in the dark, he watches the pain play over her face.

“O Dhai,” His mind automatically starts all prayers in Gaelic. “Please help her. She is so sweet, giving, loving. She doesn’t deserve this! Please relive her. Give it to me. You know I can take it. Take it away from her and give it to me! Show me how to help her. Show me who's stalking her. Help me help her. Please.”

She sleeps the rest of that day and the night away. Jamie only leaves her side when it is absolutely necessary. When her eyes open that next morning, she sees him asleep in the chair beside here.

“Jamie, why aren’t you in your bed?” He wakes at her voice.

“Welcome back.” He sits back up. Stretching and yawning. “You look like you feel better.”

“Yes. I slept the worst away. It is all I could do. Why are you sleeping by my bed?”

“Now, what kind of bodyguard would I be if I didn’t.”

“I am safe enough here.”

“You were battling an invisible enemy. I couldn’t fight it for you. So, all I could do is be beside you, have your six, eh.”

“Six?” She lays on her side and watches him. She is still pale. Her eyes have huge dark circles under them. Her hair is a tangled bird nest. She is beautiful. He fists his hands on his lap. The urge to touch her is immense.

“Back. The hands of a clock. When it is on six, the bottom, back. It is a military term. Means we got each others back. That they aren’t alone in the battle. That they will never be.”

“Oh. Thank you Jamie. You prayed for me?”

“I did. Mary got all you obligations cancelled for the next three days.” He has to get her attention off him. The way she was looking at him was~ well it wasn’t right. No more then his urge to touch her was.

“I bet Gillian wasn’t happy.” She smiles.

“No. But she knew it is necessary.”

“It is. I pushed myself to hard. Now I am paying for it.”

“Do you need your medicine box?”

“Yes. But a light breakfast first.” He nods and text Mary.

“Mary will be here shortly. You must need the loo.”

“Oh yes I do. Will you help me there?”

“Aye.” He helps her to her feet. They walk slowly over to the door. He gets her in.

“Thank you. I will let you know when I am done.” He slips out and walks back over to her bed. She has sweated through the covers and sheets. He strips it and quickly remakes it. He then walks back over to the loo's door.

“Okay in there?”

“Yes. Just trying to..”

“To? Need help?

“Ah~ yes please come in.” He does and finds her sitting in front of the vanity. She is trying to work the tangles out of her hair. “I must have been in real bad shape if Mary didn’t brush it out yesterday.”

“You were.” He comes up and takes the brush out of her hand. “Let me see what I can do.”

He starts to work the tangles and knots out. She is shocked by his gentleness. This big man, the former soldier, had sat and prayed by her bed and now worked the bird nest out of her head. He was a constant surprise. She relaxes under his ministrations.

“There you go. Much better. You need a new gown. I've changed your bedding.”

“You did. That is.. Thanks.”

“You are welcome. Come. You need to be laying down.”

“Yes.” He helps her back up. He sits her down on the edge of the bed.

“Let me get you a clean gown.” He brings it back. “Can you~ oh~ Mary will be up here soon.”

“I need to lay down now. Jamie can you help?”

What was she asking? Christ! Can't she tell how.. No, she can't. She is just a woman in severe pain asking for his help. “Of course.” He walks over and helps lift her sweat soaked gown off.

“I should probably bath. I just can’t.”

“No worries lass.” He quickly slips the new gown on her. “You've time once you get to feeling better.”

“Right.” He helps her back under the covers. Mary brings them both breakfast soon after.

[askiisoft]

FAN ART FRIDAY: ALL THE WARRIORS, Part 5

Like anyone that proclaims their something “the final chapter,” of course I couldn’t let a good thing lie. 

Since the conclusion of All The Warriors on Fan Art Friday a few months back, the Katana ZERO community has continued to dream up fantastic OCs to expand the mythos, and some of them were simply too amazing not to feature. Here we go, a bonus Part 5 in the series!

[WARNING: The work herein is based on fan creations, and should not be considered canon.]

Alpha 90 by @moryu

The NULL diaspora transformed New Mecca’s underworld overnight—particularly in Chinatown, where they find easy employ as bouncers and bodyguards, scouted for their unique abilities and paid handsomely in Chronos. 

But appearances can be deceiving. Thanks to her Asian features and waifish build, Yaeko has managed to hide her NULL status behind the masquerade of a harmless waitress—one who just happens to work at the restaurant where Chinatown’s premier mob bosses gather each month, allowing her to listen in on their plans as she serves up tea and dumplings. To them, she’s a familiar face, and not even their bodyguards realize they’re in the presence of a fellow NULL—aside from when she catches a dropped teacup a bit too quickly, almost as if she knew it was about to fall...

—

Alpha 52 by @TailWood

In a world where the New Meccan Police Department wasn’t routinely decimated thanks to NULL killing sprees, an idle beat cop might have time to do a stop-and-search on Alpha 52, if only as a pretense to chat with a cute redhead. 

What he’d find would be truly bizarre: an assortment of razor-sharp knives and stilettoes mixed in with candid photos of old men playing chess, kids eating ice cream, and people picking their nose when they thought no one was looking. In an effortlessly disarming tone, she would explain that the knives were for peeling apples and the photos were part of her art exhibition, and the officer would bid her farewell with a tip of his cap. She’s just that good.

—

Gamma 3, “Third” by @Kazzang3

“The best soldiers aren’t born, gentlemen—they’re made.”

He turned to face to the delegation of military leaders and heads of state, gesturing to the rows of glowing tanks lining the laboratory with his remaining arm. For years, Beta NULL had been considered the fullest expression of Chronos, the plateau at which its properties abutted the limits of human physiology. Yet the war was still not won.

The solution, it seemed, was genetic engineering. Bred from the genes of the most outstanding Alpha and Beta subjects, this yet-unnamed generation of fighters would have superior strength, mental acuity, and most importantly, a heightened reaction to Chronos: if they ever lost themselves to bloodlust or went rogue as previous NULL had, they wouldn’t survive a week before withdrawal rendered them inert.

“Oh, look,” he mused as he led the group between the tanks. “Twins.”

—

Alpha 13 by @PsykoShipht

As a child, Noel never seemed to fit in, thanks to an early growth spurt that made him tower above his classmates. Among the lineup of star athletes and wunderkinds who would become New Mecca’s first NULL, poor Noel was chosen for his slightly above-average height—a desirable trait for comms operators, who had to shoulder heavy, fragile radio backpacks through the jungle in addition to their field gear.

After a woeful showing in boot camp, he was offered a chance to test a prototype light-bending camouflage. What happened after, no one is certain, save for rare accounts of distorted shapes moving through the trees or enemy guards slumped at their posts, their throats slit and blood still warm.

Now, Noel finally fits in, anywhere and everywhere. If you see a tall, gangly shape flickering in the shadows and a high-pitched electronic whine, drop your wallet and run!

—

Beta 32 by @super0yo

He may seem bleary from lack of sleep, but the redder and more sunken Beta 32′s eyes are, the more people he’s killed in the recent past. He can’t really name the feeling that overcomes him every time he ends a life—definitely not sadness, but perhaps shame over doing something wrong that feels so right. 

—

Beta 33, “Claire” by Maple

Some NULLs prided themselves on accomplishing a lot with little: clearing an entire enemy camp armed with only a knife and their Chronos abilities, even if it meant dying countless times in the process. 

Claire never quite understood the appeal; already an exemplary soldier prior to becoming a Beta, she treated Chronos as just another tool in her repertoire of weapons and gadgets, enhancing her deadliness further. To her, having to finish off an enemy up close just means it’s time to hit the shooting range again, because she just ran out of ammo.

—

Gamma 4 by @TCSF95293

Gamma 4′s immense potential was always hindered by his reputation as a hothead and sadist among his commanders; he swore at the doctors during his weekly medical checks and tended to ‘accidentally’ kill prisoners of war before he could extract any useful intel. 

But even inflicting that much pain on others has a cost, and now no one’s sure just what he’s after anymore. Revenge? Vigilantism? Perhaps even contract killing, as absurd as it seems? Whatever it is, his comrades know he won’t rest until it’s accomplished—or until they’re dead.

—

Alpha 64, by @Tacoyaki86

In a run-down city like New Mecca, no one looks twice at a kid carrying a saw, hammer, and length of rope down the street; after all, what apartment in the Third District doesn’t have a leaky roof or faulty electrical wiring? It just turns out hardware meant for repairs is also useful for gaining entry into tricky places to kill people, which is exactly what “Matt” does in his off-hours.

Nobody would suspect him, of course. After all, Matt��s profile says he’s near-sighted and was a valedictorian of his graduating class, even after he disappeared for a few days and came back having lost nearly a hundred pounds, grown a few inches shorter, and gained different hair, eye, and skin colors. Guy just plays vidcons in his spare time, he couldn’t hurt a fly.

—

Beta 46 , “Albino” by @OwOsameOwO

Beta 46 was far from the only NULL who admired their father figure as something more, and he and Beta 13 often clashed vying for his attention, which neither of them ever got. They quoted his speech and mimicked his every move; while Beta 46 couldn’t cut off his own arm without diminishing his combat effectiveness (and thus risk displeasing the doctor), he compulsively wears upper garments with one sleeve empty. 

—

Alpha 2109 by @mazotive

By the time the Chronos project began recruiting test subjects from the Third District, Alpha Squadron had become a dumping ground for the least promising NULL, used as distractions while their Beta brethren did the real fighting. But Silence was an exception—without a scope or silencer, she could provide overwatch as well as any fully-kitted sniper, and her skill at staying undetected meant her physical frailty didn’t matter.

Now she's forgotten the project just as much as it forgot her. But something still feels off whenever she sees visions of events a few seconds into the future, or feels the days start to get longer and longer...

—

Initially, I thought interest in Katana ZERO OCs might die down as the interminable wait for the fabled DLC went on. But it seems people have gotten hungry enough for more story to invent their own, and I love what I’ve seen so far. 

If your latter-day OC didn’t make it, chances are A.) you didn’t send it to me or B.) it’ll be featured in a future bonus entry of All the Warriors. As long as I have enough to fill the banner picture, rest assured there will be more. 

See y’all next week.

by @nizioroMOMO

[three-drink-amy]

If After All These Years, You’d Like to Meet

Thank you all for the wonderful response to the last chapter. I was secretly concerned about it but everyone was so sweet to me! I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter as well! Reader warning: It’s LONG. 

Master list - AO3

Chapter Seventeen

When Claire woke the next morning, Jamie’s arms were still wrapped around her. It took her a moment to remember why she had a monstrous headache. She looked nervously over at Jamie to see if he was still asleep. He was. Taking a deep breath, she carefully removed herself from his embrace and, as gently as possible, got out of bed. Claire wound her way to the kitchen, desperate for some coffee. Surely that could help with the hangover. It was entirely likely that Jamie would wake up in the same state.

She thought back on other times they’d had hangovers together and what had worked for Jamie before. Looking in her fridge, there wasn’t much food. A lump formed in her throat as she saw the leftovers from the dinner Jamie had made them. One of her friends must have put it in the fridge so they could eat it later. She made a mental note to text them and thank them. Not just for preserving her food, but for everything.

Claire was sipping on her coffee when she heard the telltale signs of Jamie waking. He stumbled into the living room, his hand to his head and his eyes scrunched shut. “Christ,” he muttered.

“There’s coffee,” Claire whispered across the room. She stayed quiet as much for her own hangover as his.

He shook his head with a disgusted expression and instead sat down on the couch. Claire paused for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Before the fight last night, she would have walked over and wrapped herself around him, no matter how crappy they were both feeling. But this time, she didn’t think she could. It wasn’t lost on her that she was the reason Jamie felt so hungover and terrible.

She’d said what she needed to the night before when she found him on her couch. The problem was that things weren’t quite settled between them. She felt awkward and tense as she stood in the kitchen, watching him. It was the last way she’d ever want to feel around Jamie. Claire was still beating herself up when Jamie spoke.

“Do ye have anything to eat?” He rasped.

Claire shook her head. “Not really. Just dinner from last night.�� He scrunched his face up at the mention of it. “Yeah, it wasn’t what sounded good to me at the moment either.” She set her cup down on the island and walked closer to the couch. “If something sounds good, I can go get it.”

Jamie looked over and stared at her for a long moment. “Ye dinna have to do that.”

“Do what? Get food? I’m hungry too,” she reasoned.

“Aye, but I ken why ye’re volunteering.”

Claire frowned. “Because it seems like my head hurts a fraction less than yours?”

“So ye’re no’ doing so to try and make up for what happened?” Jamie asked.

Claire sat down on the arm of the couch opposite him. “No, actually I wasn’t.” She paused, not wanting to start another fight, but unable to be silent. “Are you implying that I should be doing that?”

“I ne’er said that.”

“Obviously it was my fault, yes,” Claire conceded. “But it was a big misunderstanding. I don’t particularly want to be punished over it.” Jamie nodded but stayed silent. Claire sighed and stood up. “I’m going to go get myself food. I’ll find you something too.”

She walked back to her room and threw on clothes as fast as she could. Pulling her hair into a bun, she decided she didn’t care what it looked like. She felt like shit physically and she was starting to feel the same way emotionally. The last thing she wanted was space from Jamie, but she thought maybe they both needed it. Neither of them were feeling good enough to really approach their situation fairly at the present moment.

Claire grabbed her purse without a word to Jamie and walked toward the door. “Claire, ye dinna have to go,” Jamie said in a small voice.

She turned back and looked at him. “We both feel like utter shite. Eating something will help and I don’t have much here, so yeah, I do.”

“Claire,” Jamie called again. She looked back at him, noticing the pained look on his face.

“Just drink some coffee,” she suggested. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Stopping at the nearest Greggs, she grabbed something that her hangover decided sounded alright. Not knowing exactly what Jamie’s hangover would dictate, she got a few different things and left.

Claire found herself slowing down as she got closer to her flat. She hated the tension between them. It was even worse that she knew it was her fault. He was in pain and even though she’d tried to make it better last night, it was still hard between them. Logically, she knew it wouldn’t be a simple fix. She would likely have to prove to him that she wasn’t going anywhere, that they wanted the same things. But whether he knew it or not, she needed proof from him that he wasn’t going anywhere either. His presence at her home last night, even after the fight, had comforted her immensely. But in the light of the morning, she found herself scared again. Scared that he would make a choice for the both of them without really considering all she’d said. She knew it was illogical and that they just needed to talk. But there was an underlying fear that she’d done irreparable damage to them. With a nod to herself, she picked up her pace, determined to set things back on track between them.

Opening the door, she found Jamie still sitting in the same spot on the couch. He must have gotten up at some point though because now he was sipping coffee. His eyes flicked up to her as she walked in. She flashed him a tight smile as she went to the kitchen. After pouring another cup of coffee, she put her croissant on a plate and walked over to her kitchen table. Jamie’s food was sitting in a bag on the island, waiting for him. As he looked over at her, she pointed to the bag, informing him as such. Claire didn’t suggest that he join her at the table. He could do whatever he wanted. Her heart felt a bit lighter when he brought the bag over and sat down next to her at the head of the table.

“Oh, a sausage roll sounds rather good. Maybe the pasty too,” he mused as he looked through the bag.

“Every hangover is different. That’s why you got a bit of everything,” Claire explained.

“Thank ye. Ye didna have to,” Jamie replied, eyeing her carefully.

“Would have been silly for you to starve. Even sillier for you to go out on your own when I was already going,” she reasoned.

“Well, still.”

They ate in silence for the most part. It was obvious to the both of them that they would have to talk at some point. Hopefully the food and coffee would start to reduce their hangovers before they had to really talk things out.

Claire stood up when she was finished to put her plate in the sink. Looking back at him, she returned to the table. Jamie had finished and sat there, watching her, seemingly trying to gauge her mood. Without saying a word, he reached in his pocket, pulled out the same box as he had last night, and laid it on the table in front of her. It sat, closed, between them. Claire stared down at the box before looking back up at him. “You still want me to have them?”

Jamie fixed her with a look. “Aye. Unless ye’re planning to contradict what ye said last night.”

“No, I meant it,” Claire maintained. “I just don’t really know where you stand.”

Jamie sat back in his chair and sighed. He watched her for a moment before he pointed toward the box. “I suppose that’s where I stand.”

Claire studied him for a long beat. “Look, I said how I felt last night. Why don’t you do the same?”

He rubbed a hand down his face. “I dinna think I should.”

“Well I’d rather put this thing to bed. So it’s really now or never,” Claire said, a harshness to her. “Wouldn’t you rather talk things through now than have it all come back up in six months?”

Jamie stared at her, though she couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt or some other emotion she couldn’t readily name. He leaned forward and clasped his hands. “Fine. Ye want to ken how it felt? I’ll tell ye.” Claire tensed, suddenly afraid of what she’d pushed for. “It felt like ye’d ripped my heart from my chest, Claire. I thought I knew where we were headed and the moment ye looked terrified at the prospect of our future, it scared the shite out of me.”

Claire opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to speak past the pain and guilt she felt.

“I went out last night and attempted to get blind drunk to try not to feel anything because everything that I was feeling was too much,” Jamie confessed. “I heard what ye said when ye found me here last night. I ken that ye just think it’s too soon and such, but it didna feel like that yesterday.”

Claire felt tears stinging her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Last night I felt heartbroken,” he continued, a tragically sad expression on his face. “That’s how I felt. Are ye sure ye want me to continue?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Claire said with a nod. “Better to air it out, right? I deserve it all.”

“Claire, I dinna want ye to feel bad,” Jamie argued. “I, too, just want to put it behind us, but I dinna see how making ye feel guilty and the like will actually put it behind us.”

“I just don’t want to be the only one who got to clarify what they were feeling,” she countered.

“I think it was rather clear how I was feeling,” Jamie said plainly. They sat there in a moment of silence. Jamie opened his mouth but then shut it, looking down at the table.

“What?” Claire pressed.

“I can understand that ye were a bit scared that we were moving too fast,” he began, “But why not just talk to me about it?”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair, avoiding his gaze. “I mean that would have been a bit presumptuous, right? It wasn’t actually a ring. And we’ve never even discussed marriage. So how would I have brought that up?”

Jamie shrugged. “I dinna ken. But I wish you’d felt comfortable discussing it wi’ me.”

Claire reached out and held his hand. “Jamie, I spent a week keeping it at the back of my mind and flip-flopping about it when I was actually thinking about it. When Jenny said she was sending you something, I didn’t think it would be a ring. Geillis suggested that. I told her no, it wasn’t. But then it just got in my head. It wasn’t logical and I felt like a fool. I couldn’t even rationally explain it to myself, let alone you. Besides, I wouldn’t have wanted to make you feel the way I ended up making you feel.”

He squeezed her hand in his. “I get it. I just...I guess I thought we told each other everything.”

Claire closed her eyes. “We do,” she promised. “I just got scared.” She whispered the last word.

“Well should that say something to me about our relationship that the prospect of that made ye scared?” Jamie pushed.

“No,” Claire insisted. “Jamie, like I said last night, I do want to marry you. Just someday.”

“Is there a reason why?”

“Is there a reason why what?” Claire repeated.

Jamie took a deep breath and let go of her hand. “I wasna proposing. And even before this, I wasna planning on it yet. But I already ken I would. That I’d like to. Is there some reason that ye’re so against it right now? Is it something to do wi’ me?”

“Of course it’s not,” Claire replied immediately. “Jamie, I said I want to get married to you someday. I just I want to enjoy us now. We’re a good couple and we’ve rushed a lot of things, but I don’t want to rush that.” She sighed. “I mean what if we rush into a marriage and then you find this fatal flaw of mine that is a deal breaker?”

Jamie laughed and shook his head. “I dinna think that’s going to be a problem.”

“But what if it was?” Claire maintained.

“So this is more to do wi’ wanting to preserve our relationship?” Jamie asked. “It doesna have to do wi’ Frank.”

Claire covered her face. “I don’t want to talk about Frank.”

“Well perhaps it’s a factor. Christ, I’ve listened to Jenny preach that all of our experiences shape us into who we are and such,” Jamie said with a roll of his eyes. “And that’s a big experience.”

“Look, until I realized I could have better, I would have married Frank,” Claire admitted.

“So, what, ye’re worried we’ll get married and then ye’ll find something better?” Jamie pressed.

Claire glared at him. “No. God, Jamie. Have a little faith in me. I realize I am the reason we’re in this position, but does that sound like me?” He looked down guiltily. She stood up and paced in front of the island. “I guess it comes down to the fact that I’ve been through a lot of changes in the last year. I mean, last year at this time, Uncle Lamb was still alive. He was sick and I was here, but he was still alive. Frank and I still seemed on relatively solid ground. I still had my job in Boston. Then Uncle Lamb died. I moved here and met you all. My relationship with Frank self destructed. And I started things with you. I’m certainly not upset about all the changes in the last year, but you have to admit that it’s a lot.”

Jamie nodded with a solemn expression. “I suppose I see yer point.”

“Jamie, when I think about marriage, I think about my parents. My parents were together for five years before they got married. And they were solid. I’m not saying I need to wait that long, but I’m also not at an age where I feel like I need to rush into things,” Claire reasoned. She walked over and sat back down at the table. “I love you and I want to be with you. And someday when we’re both ready, I want to marry you. But I also want to have talked about it first. It was easy to skip a bunch of steps because we knew everything about each other before we even kissed.” She smiled as she looked at him. “I mean we really do know each other quite well. Well enough that I know what a big deal it is for you to give me something of your mother’s.”

Jamie looked down at the box on the table. “Aye, it rather was.”

“I know,” Claire agreed. “Which is why I don’t want you to give them to me.” She pushed the box back toward him. Jamie gaped at her. “Not right now, at least.”

“Claire, ye said ye werena going anywhere,” Jamie said, fear back on his face.

“And I’m not,” Claire promised. “And to be honest, I want those earrings. But not like this. The way we feel right now, the way we’ve been tense and awkward around each other, that’s not us. That’s not how we normally are. And I know that the way I made you feel and the way I more or less made myself feel isn’t going to go away immediately. We’re talking it out but that doesn’t mean it will instantly fix things. I want the earrings, but when I put them on or when you see me wearing them, I want us to think of something better than this. I don’t want to put them on and remember how I almost fucked us up completely. I would like to wear them someday and put them on and think about you and your love for me. I’d like to think of your mom and how I hope she’d be happy for us being together.”

Claire put the box in Jamie’s hand and covered it with hers. “So when you feel better about us, about me, when you feel like you did when you first asked Jenny for these, give them to me.”

She could see the tears in Jamie’s eyes. He looked down at her hand on his, no doubt looking for the box between their hands. Nodding, he replied. “Fine.” Suddenly, Claire felt distressed. She opened her mouth to explain herself but Jamie held up a hand. “I see yer point. Ye’re right.” Jamie patted her hand before he stood up from the table. “I havena showered since yesterday morning and I feel rather gross.” He looked down at Claire with a pained expression. “I think I’m going to go home and shower. I just -”

“Jamie, it’s fine for you to want some space,” Claire assured him.

Jamie stared down at her. “I dinna want space, I…” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “We’ve said a lot and I dinna ken what more there is to say. Perhaps it’s time to lick our wounds and come back later. Maybe a bit less hungover.”

Claire chuckled at his last. “I think you’re right. Honestly, I rather want to go back to sleep.”

Jamie smirked. “Aye.” He started to walk towards the door and Claire stood to follow him. Jamie turned around at the last second before he walked out. Leaning his forehead against her, he whispered, “I love ye.”

Claire smiled, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I love you, too.”

Jamie pulled her in for a long kiss. They both poured all their emotion into it, making sure the other knew. Jamie broke away, locking eyes with her. They both nodded. With that, Jamie turned and walked out of the door. Claire’s heart, somehow, felt a bit lighter. Things weren’t back to normal, but they’d get there.

She walked back to her room and threw herself down on the bed. Her eyes had only been

closed for a few minutes when she heard her phone vibrate on her nightstand. Looking at it, she saw Jamie’s face on her screen. “Hello?” she answered.

“Ye said the dinner I made last night is in yer fridge, aye?”

Claire chuckled. “I did.”  

“How would ye like to bring it over to my place tonight?” Jamie asked.

She cozied into her pillows, getting more comfortable. “I think that sounds good.”

“Great. I’ll see ye tonight then.”

“Alright, I can’t wait,” she replied.

“Good. Bye, Claire.”

“Bye, Jamie.”

As she hung up, it occurred to her that Jamie had only called her Claire the entire time they’d talked that morning. Not “Sassenach” or “mo nighean donn,” just Claire. When she thought about it, she realized he’d done the same thing during their fight and when she found him on the couch. Her heart clenched a bit at the realization.

~~~

Jamie and Claire had done their best to fall back into their regular routine. They still spent most nights together. The only ones apart were usually when Claire was working at the hospital. Still, things weren’t quite back to normal. Their interactions were sometimes strained. They were overly polite to each other as they tried desperately to cover up their hurt feelings. Both of them were convinced no one else would notice.

It was two weeks later when they were hanging out with their friends for the first time since “the incident,” as they’d branded it. Jamie was standing up to get another round when he turned to her. “Would you like another round, Claire?”

“Sure, that would be great,” she replied with a smile.

No one else seemed to be fazed by their interaction except Willie. “What the hell was that?” he asked Claire.

She noticed Geillis shaking her head almost violently from the corner of her eye. “What was what?” Claire asked innocently.

“Ye two were...polite,” he scoffed. “That’s no’ like ye.”

“Jamie and I aren’t rude people,” Claire insisted.

“No, but he doesna usually ask if ye need another round, he just gets it.”

“So Jamie decided to ask her instead,” John replied in a loud voice, “whatever, Willie. Let it go!”

Claire grimaced. John made a big deal out of it, so now Willie definitely wouldn’t let it go.

“What happened?” Willie asked.

“Nothing happened,” Rupert answered. “We’re all just fine.”

Claire sighed. Louise spoke up too. “Yep, it’s all okay, so just drop it.”

“It is clearly something,” Willie continued. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Fine,” Claire nearly yelled. Everyone else looked at her nervously. She looked back at the bar. Jamie seemed to be in a long line for drinks. “A couple of weeks back Jamie and I got into a bit of a fight. A misunderstanding really. It just got a bit out of hand. But we’re fine and it’s nothing.”

Willie stared at her, evaluating her story. He looked at the others, gauging their reactions. She could tell the moment he realized that they all already knew. His mouth hung open. “Ye all knew?” They all nodded guiltily. “Why the hell did all of them ken but no’ me?”

“I called Geillis and Louise,” Claire recalled. “John came over to find Jamie and he found out from us.”

“Aye, and Jamie called me to come get soused wi’ him,” Rupert informed him. “To be honest, he only called me but Angus was wi’ me.”

“Because he’s always with you,” Geillis teased.

Rupert shrugged, not denying it. “Anyway, we didna leave ye out of some big secret.”

“But none of you mentioned it to me afterward,” Willie argued.

“Well none of us felt like talking about it,” Louise reasoned. “It was a lot and we were a bit worried about Jamie and Claire. We didn’t really figure it would be a good thing to be talking about it.” Geillis and John nodded in agreement.

“Did you and Jamie break up?” Willie asked directly.

“No.”

“Then what’s with the politeness?”

Claire sighed deeply. “We’re just...not quite back to normal yet. We’re trying, but it was just a bit raw, I suppose.” Louise put her arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Look, just please drop it. I don’t want to talk about it in front of Jamie.”

Willie nodded. John leaned over to him. “If you want to know more, I know pretty much everything. I heard it from both sides.”

Claire glared at him. He feigned guilt and looked down at his beer. The group sat there silently until Jamie returned. “What got this group so quiet?” Jamie asked, setting Claire’s drink down in front of her.

“Geillis’s cat died,” Rupert lied.

Jamie sat down and looked at her. “Ye had a cat?”

Geillis quickly adopted a sad expression. “I dinna want to talk about it.”

Jamie held up his hands in defense and turned the conversation to football. Claire breathed a sigh of relief at the turn in conversation. Louise reached out and squeezed her arm, winking at her. She leaned over and whispered to her. “You’ll be alright.”

Having to bring it all up again put Claire on edge. Even though her friends had known about it when it happened, she still didn’t want to talk about it with them. A knot had started forming in her stomach with the thought of the incident. But then Jamie reached over under the table and laid his hand on her knee as he talked casually about sports with Rupert. The simple gesture eased the tension in Claire just enough for her to actually enjoy the night.

~~~

It was 9 days until Christmas when Claire walked into Jamie’s apartment to find him wrapping presents. She laughed at the sight of him fighting the paper to get around a large toy for one of his nieces or nephews. “Need some help?” she offered.

“No,” he said in a dejected tone. “This one’s jus’ going in a bag.” He picked up the toy and set it down on the couch with a sigh. “How was yer day?”  

She walked over and kissed him quickly before going to get herself some water. “It was fine. Nothing to write home over. You?”

“About the same. Well, until I started wrapping presents and it turned into a nightmare. I’m no’ made for this.”

Claire laughed from her place in his kitchen. “I can always help. That does remind me though of something I wanted to talk to you about.” He looked over at her and nodded before grabbing the next present to wrap. “Save some night for us to exchange presents before you head off to Lallybroch.” Jamie was silent on the couch and Claire didn’t know why. Could he have not gotten her a present? She didn’t need a present, but she’d certainly gotten him something. “I mean if you won’t have time, that’s fine, we can do it after Hogmanay.”

Jamie got up from the couch and walked over to her, a puzzled look on his face. “Claire, I realize that things have been a bit...off between us since the incident. But did ye really think that I wouldna celebrate the holidays wi’ ye?”

She opened her mouth to reply but she had no words. There was a small part of her that did expect that. With the way they’d been, strained and trying desperately to recapture their easiness, she didn’t know if he’d just want a week away to be with his family. She’d asked for the time off at the beginning of November, making sure she’d be available, but that had been before the incident.

Jamie reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “I guess I never asked, but would ye come to Lallybroch and be with us for the holidays? I dinna ken if ye can get the time off from the hospital or not. If ye canna, we can go up for Christmas and come back and go back for Hogmanay. Or we could jus’ go up for Hogmanay and spend Christmas just the two of us.” Claire just watched him, in awe of him at the moment. “It’s no’ lost on me that this is yer first Christmas wi’out Uncle Lamb. I would never leave ye alone during a time like that,” he insisted. “And more than that, I’d like ye to be wi’ me, wi’ my family for the holidays.” He leaned his forehead against hers and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “No matter what, ye’re my family too,” he whispered.

Claire felt a tear drop down her cheek. “Of course I’ll come with you,” she whispered back. “I actually have the time off.”

“Perfect.”

“Thank you for including me,” she said in a nervous voice.

Jamie pulled back and saw her nerves on her face. He stroked away a tear running down her cheek before he pulled her into his embrace. “It was never in my plan no’ to include ye,” he promised as he kissed the top of her head. “I love ye and I want to be wi’ ye for the holidays.”

“I do too,” she agreed. “To all of that.”

“Great,” he sighed. “Then we can leave Christmas Eve. Will that work?” he asked, looking down at her.

“It sounds wonderful,” she admitted, burrowing further into his embrace.

~~~

Claire stared at the entryway of Lallybroch. It was breathtaking. Garlands and flowers hung on bannisters and balconies. A large Christmas tree in the living room, decorated with a beautiful array of ornaments. The whole place just felt magical. She looked over at Jenny and shook her head in awe. “I don’t know how you do it. This looks incredible.”

Jenny smiled, wrapping an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Well we’re having a rather large party for Hogmanay. It wouldn’t do for the house to look shabby.”

Claire laughed, walking off toward the kitchen with Jenny. “It’s never been shabby.” She bent down to pick up Kitty, giving her a big hug. “So what can I help you do?” Claire asked.

“Jamie told me I shouldna put ye to work. That it was yer holiday,” Jenny informed her.

“Well forget that. I’m volunteering. What can I do?” Claire repeated.

Jenny nodded and walked from the kitchen. “I’m so happy ye said that. Follow me.”

Claire set Kitty back down and took off behind Jenny, following her up to one of the guest rooms. “Who will this be for?”

“With the party, I usually try to have at least one room prepared in case people get too carried away and need to stay,” Jenny explained. “Do ye mind helpin’ me make the bed?”

“Not at all,” Claire replied, going to the other side of the bed.

Jenny threw her the other side of the sheet and eyed her curiously. “I have something I’d like to ask ye, but I dinna ken how to.”

“Jenny, it’s me. Just ask.”

“Well a while back Jamie asked me for something and I sent such a thing to him, but I would have expected ye to have it by now,” Jenny asked, vaguely enough.

Claire sighed. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it with Jenny or Ian. “Are you talking about the earrings?”

Jenny’s eyes widened with excitement. “So you have them?”

“Well, yes and no.”

“What the bloody hell does that mean?” Jenny questioned as she tucked in a corner.

“It’s a long story,” Claire evaded.

“We have many layers to put on this bed. It gets cold up here in Scotland at this time of year,” Jenny reminded her.

Claire nodded, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Alright, here it is.” She proceeded to tell Jenny the whole story of the incident.

Jenny stopped and stared at her while she told her story, seemingly captivated by Claire’s own disasters. When Claire finished the story, Jenny frowned. “Well so that’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, clearly ye didna break up. Ye’re here for the holidays,” she pointed out. “It was a blip. Why are you treating it like the end of it all?”

“I never said I was.”

“No, but the way ye told it rather did,” Jenny explained. “Ye made it seem like it was all yer fault and Jamie is a perfect saint.”

“Well it was all my fault,” Claire argued.

“Perhaps ye freaking out was yer fault, but ye canna help the things that send ye over the edge. I’m sure ye didna want to be feeling tha’ way,” Jenny countered. “Look, for his part, Jamie could have stayed instead of storming off and leaving ye to fret all night. But then again, my brother has always been a bit hotheaded. Claire, ye’re still together. Jamie still stares at ye like ye hung the moon. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

She sighed in response. “I know. I know that someday it will be fine. But we’ve been in this stupid place for over a month now and I don’t know what to do about it. We’re too polite. It’s like we did break up and we’re trying to still preserve our friendship.”

“Ye mean except sex?” Jenny asked.

“Nope, that too.”

Jenny gaped at Claire. “I’m going to pretend that ye’re no’ wi’ my brother while I interrogate ye about this, but ye havena had sex in over a month?” Claire nodded. “I thought ye basically live together.”

“We do,” Claire confirmed “But things have just been off. And it scares me because it’s my fault and I don’t know how to fix it. I mean, we’ve gotten close a few times, but something always interrupted us.”

“Ye dinna even have children,” Jenny argued. “What could interrupt ye?”

“Well once I got paged to the hospital. Once you called Jamie,” Claire listed.

Jenny held up her hand, an angry and confused look on her face. “I’m sorry, ye let me interrupt ye? Christ, ye could have sent me to voicemail and called me back in a post-coital haze. Or the next day. I’m sure it wasna anything important. I canna believe Jamie chose to answer the phone.”

“Well I told him he should. You know, just in case,” Claire recalled.

Jenny stared at her for a long moment, her eyes narrowed in on her. “So each time things have stopped progressing, has it been ye that stopped it?” Claire thought for a long moment before she nodded guiltily. Jenny sighed, nodding her head with a small smile. “I think I ken what’s holding ye back from the two of ye being normal again.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“It’s you.”

Claire gaped at Jenny. “Me?” she asked dumbly, pointing to herself.

“Aye, you. You’re carrying around all this damn guilt from one panicked moment. Claire, we all freak out about things. But ye’ve done yer best to mend things between ye and Jamie. So let go of the guilt. Try and treat Jamie the way you used to instead of wandering along with him acting like some sad puppy who doesn’t believe ye’re deserving of his love.”

Claire sat down on the partially made bed, staring at Jenny. Maybe she had a point. Claire had been trying to accommodate everything Jamie needed or wanted and never tried to push anything. She had believed it would be the best way to get things back on track. But maybe she was wrong. “What if I don’t know how to do that?” Claire whispered.

Jenny walked around the side of the bed and sat down next to Claire. “Surely ye remember. Perhaps just make one joke at Jamie’s expense instead of trying to make him so content he forgets what ye did.” She looked at Claire with a knowing smile. “Look, if it makes ye feel better, I’ve done things too that put Ian and I in a small strain. The point is that ye get over it. Ye say what needs to be said and ye move on. I think Jamie’s moved on, Claire. But ye seem to be holding yourself back because ye feel ye must. That ye dinna deserve to be happy yet.”

Claire covered her face with her hands. “I think you’re right,” she admitted. “I didn’t even think Jamie was going to want to spend the holidays with me. But when I mentioned it, he seemed shocked that I didn’t already know I was included.”

Jenny ran a hand up and down Claire’s back, comforting her. “That tells me that he’s gotten past it. He’s ready to leave it in the past. Ye need to do the same.” Claire dropped her hands and looked over at Jenny. “Just act as ye normally would. Fight the new instincts that say ye should tiptoe around Jamie. Just be Claire.” Jenny stood up, ready to resume making the bed. “Guilt is a heavy burden to bear, Claire. Dinna let it burn ye up from the inside and take yer relationship wi’ it. Ye two are too good together for that.”

She felt tears building in her eyes, wishing they wouldn’t fall. Jenny was completely right. She’d been acting like she didn’t deserve Jamie when in reality, it had been one mistake. If they were ever going to fully move past it, she needed to finally let things go. Claire stood up to face Jenny and got back to helping her with the bed.

It was Christmas Eve which wasn’t especially a big day for the Fraser-Murray clan except for the preparation for the next day. The kids were vibrating with the excitement of Christmas and it was endearing to see. Claire was endlessly happy that Jamie had made sure she was included. After helping Jenny, she wandered back down to see where Jamie had gotten to. They’d been in the door approximately two minutes when Young Jamie had grabbed his hand and demanded he come see something. Jamie had grinned and said “Be right back” to her. Jenny hadn’t wasted anytime in putting Claire to work after her offer. So in the near hour they’d been there, Claire had barely seen Jamie.

She found him in the living room holding himself up off the floor, Maggie on his back, seemingly trying to pin him to the ground. “Ye’ll no’ get the best o’ me, Wee Maggie!” Jamie taunted.

“Yes I will! I’m strong now!” she yelled back to him. Jamie hadn’t noticed Claire’s presence but she couldn’t help smiling as she watched the two of them. Suddenly an idea struck her. She tiptoed over and stood next to Maggie. When the little girl looked over, Claire held a finger to her lips, telling her to keep quiet. Maggie smiled brilliantly and nodded. Claire braced her weight against her forearms on Jamie’s back. He growled suddenly, his body starting to collapse.

“What the devil?” he looked back and saw Claire and Maggie giggling together. “Claire! Betrayal!”

That only made the two of them laugh louder. “Nope, us lasses have to stick together, right, Maggie?”

“Right, Auntie Claire!” Claire felt Jamie’s back tense at the title Maggie had used. She laid a hand flat on his back. Soon, he gave up and collapsed on the floor with a groan of defeat. “Ha!” Maggie yelled, climbing off Jamie’s back to mock him to his face. “I told ye I’m strong now!”

Jamie stood up slowly. “I suppose ye are then.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake. “Well done.” Claire grinned at the excited smile on Maggie’s face. The little girl ran from the room, no doubt going to find her older brother to brag. “Such betrayal, Sassenach,” he teased with a shake of his head.

Claire smiled, both him and the return of her nickname. She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. “It’s Christmas. You’ve gotta give her one,” she reasoned. He shrugged with a grin. Claire leaned forward and kissed him sweetly, trying to mind Jenny’s advice. His arms came to wrap around her, holding her close, even after their kiss had ended.

Jamie planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’m verra happy that ye’re here, Sassenach,” he said in a soft voice.

Claire tightened her arms around him before laying a kiss on his chest. “I am too, Jamie.”

Jamie leaned down and pulled her in for a long kiss. She sighed as his hands started to roam her body. “Ye ken, we’ve a bit till dinner still,” he whispered against her lips. He pulled her hips tighter against his. “I could think of something we can do to kill the time,” he suggested.

She didn’t respond with words, but with her body as she started to grind against him. He groaned in reply, breaking away to look at her for a moment.

“Ah, there ye two are,” Jenny said, walking into the room and interrupting the moment. “Ian had to run out and get something I forgot from the store. I’m about to start dinner. Could the two of ye entertain the bairns so they’re not running amok in the house or in the kitchen?”

Jamie nearly glared at her. “Ye have a television. Can ye no’ put it on for them?”

Jenny was about to reply when Claire stepped in. “It’s fine, we can, Jenny.” Jamie looked down at her, disappointment clear on his face. “It’s not like we get all that much time with the kids. But we certainly have time for that. Let’s just help your sister.”

Jamie shook his head. “Aye, just this once.” Claire laughed before she leaned back in to kiss him. She felt daring this time, sticking her tongue in his mouth and leaving him with a filthy kiss before she pulled away with a smirk. “Tha’s how ye’re walking away?” Jamie demanded. “Christ, woman,” he said with a shake of his head. Claire winked at him before walking away to find the kids. She promised herself as she walked from him that it was the last time she’d stop them from going further.

~~~

Christmas had been a fun day. It was the first Christmas Claire had spent with little kids since she was a little kid herself. The joy on all their faces was very sweet to see. There was nothing like sitting around the tree, feeling the warmth of the fire, cuddled with Jamie. Ian and Jenny seemed just as content. It was a lazy and yet exciting day for the family. The entire time, Claire felt endlessly thankful to get to be there.

In the six days between Christmas Day and Hogmanay, Claire and Jamie had been busy helping make sure everything was ready for the party on Hogmanay. There had been numerous trips to the village and even to Glasgow to get each needed staple. The party promised to be quite an extravagant affair. Jenny had been on edge, ordering the other three adults around like children. Once she saw Jamie roll his eyes at Claire and he got yelled at for a full five minutes while Claire giggled in the background. The two of them had barely had time just the two of them with the exception of trips to get supplies. And even then, Jenny kept them on a strict timeline. There were no side trips for an intimate lunch or such.

During that time, Claire had tried to keep Jenny’s advice to her in mind. Guilt wasn’t an easy thing to get rid of, but she was doing her best. When she pushed it to the back of her mind, Claire allowed herself to have a good time. Practice was helping make perfect and she felt more like herself than she had since the incident. It had been a while since she and Jamie had laughed as much as they had. Still, every now and then, the awkwardness crept back in.

Despite all the chaos and endless orders of the week, it all seemed worth it when the house looked impeccable and everything was ready to go. Claire had just put the finishing touches on her makeup when she walked out of their room. She nearly ran into Jamie as she walked out into the hallway. “Hey,” she said cheerily. He didn’t reply. He was too busy staring at her in awe. She couldn’t fight the grin at his reaction to her appearance. “Well do I look alright?”

Jamie nodded, his mouth agape. “Aye, ye look wonderful.”

Claire turned around, showing off the tartan dress she and Geillis had happened across in London. “Do I look Scottish enough?” she joked.

Jamie pulled her in close, his lips almost touching hers. “Aye, ye’ll do.” Claire wrapped her arms around him as well, leaning in to meet his kiss. They stood there in a gentle embrace, not pushing things further. Claire ran her hand through Jamie’s hair as he finally deepened the kiss. She let out a contented sigh, moments before they were interrupted.

“People are going to be here any minute!” Jenny yelled as she walked past them. “Could ye maybe stop snogging like teenagers?” They broke apart, both glaring at her. “Ye two can glare at me all ye want, but there’s work to do.”

They stood there until Jenny was safely down the stairs. “Do ye think she’s fully downstairs?” Jamie asked. Claire nodded. He looked at her, rolling his eyes with a sigh. She couldn’t help but laugh. “I suppose we should go help.” He leaned in and kissed her again quickly.

“Is she always like this before the party? Is this a yearly tradition?” Claire asked. “I love Jenny, but if that’s the case, I think next year we’re going to have to go on vacation or something instead.”

Jamie looked down at her, a brief look of awe crossing his face before he schooled his expression. “No, it’s usually like this. Maybe no’ to this degree. Perhaps she’s feeling nervous that ye’re here.”

Claire shook her head at him. “No reason to be nervous for me.”

“Well then she’s jus’ going insane,” Jamie offered. They laughed as they walked into the kitchen together, ready to do Jenny’s bidding.

An hour later, most of the guests had arrived and Jenny had somehow undersold the amount of people that were going to be there. Claire had never seen so many people at a house party in her life. Jenny Murray made Rupert Mackenzie look like he had no friends.

Claire was standing with Jamie as they were refilling their drinks. “No,” Jamie breathed. Claire looked over to find him horror-struck. Following his eyeline, she saw why.

“Is that Dougal?”

Jamie sighed. “Aye. Tis.” He looked down at her with a crushed expression. “Why the fuck would Jenny invite him?”

“Because he’s her uncle?” Claire reasoned.

“Yeah, but it’s no’ as though he’s been a present uncle. She knows I dinna care to be around the man outside of work,” Jamie complained. They watched as Dougal Mackenzie made his way through a crowd of people. He stepped to the side and Jamie gasped. “Colum’s here too? What the bloody hell is happening?”

“That’s Colum?” Claire asked. She’d heard plenty about him, but she hadn’t ever met him.

“Aye, tha’s him,” Jamie said, not taking his eyes off the man. Suddenly he grabbed Claire’s hand and he walked toward the kitchen, dragging her behind him. Jenny was getting something out of the oven when they found her. “Jenny Murray, what the devil were ye thinking?”

She looked up, shocked by Jamie’s harsh accusation. “Excuse me?”

“Why are Colum and Dougal here?” he demanded. “I’m supposed to be on holiday from work!”

“Well you were the one who decided to go work for the family,” she argued, looking away from him. Jamie glared at her. She looked back apologetically. “Ian ran into Dougal in Glasgow when he was there for work. They were talking about Hogmanay, Ian mentioned the party, and somehow they both were invited. We never expected them to actually come. It’s no’ like they ever came to the parties we had here when Mam and Da were still alive.”

Jamie closed his eyes. “Christ, then that means it’s something to do wi’ me.”

“Why do you think that?” Claire asked.

“Because they could get me alone here, full of merriment, with my guard down, potentially liquored up and it would be easier to get me to agree to somethin’ than it would be at work,” Jamie reasoned.

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing you already know this ahead of time,” Jenny said with a flourish of her hands. “Just rip off the bandaid and go talk to them. Go introduce Claire and change the conversation away from work.”

Jamie looked over at Claire with a guilty expression. She nodded her assent. “It’s fine. Let’s do it.”

They found their way to where his uncles were sitting. “Dougal, Colum!” Jamie greeted. “I ne’er thought ye’d come to a humble Fraser Hogmanay.”

“This is far from humble,” Dougal said, looking around. “Yer sister puts on quite the bash.”

Jamie nodded, swallowing harshly. “Uh I canna remember if ye’ve been introduced,” he lied. They both knew Claire had met Dougal at least. “Uncles, this is Claire.” He gestured to her. She smiled and reached for both their hands to shake. “Claire these are my uncles, Dougal and Colum Mackenzie.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard so much,” Claire said with a fake smile. “So lovely to meet you.”

Ian walked over to stand with the group of them. “Welcome gents, I’m so happy ye could make it.” He missed Jamie’s glare. It seemed he was avoiding his eye contact on purpose.

“So, Jamie, lad, ye’ve taken up wi’ a sassenach?” Colum asked from his chair.

Claire felt Jamie’s hand turn into a fist where it rested on her back. “I suppose you couldn’t be surprised by it when you sent him to work in your London office,” Claire mused, a smirk on her face.

Colum did a double take at her remark. “And a cheeky one at that.”

Ian laughed loudly. “Aye, Claire is a sassenach, but she’s got a little scottish in her.”

Claire and Jamie gaped at his innuendo.

“Ian!” Claire scolded.

“Christ, man,” Jamie muttered.

Ian stared back at them. “What? I meant because she used to live here in Scotland!”

“Sure ye did,” Jamie replied, shaking his head.

“Did ye then?” Colum asked. “What made ye move?”

“My parents died and I left to live with my uncle,” Claire recapped.

“Anyway, could I get ye something to drink?” Jamie asked, wanting to steer his uncle’s focus from Claire.

“Surely ye’ll have our product here,” Dougal said with a strange look.

“But of course we do,” Ian chimed in. “Let me go get ye a glass.” Jamie shook his head at him. Claire could tell he wanted a reason to get away.

“So Claire,” Colum began, “what is it that ye do for a living?”

“I’m a surgeon,” she informed him, standing a bit straighter. Jamie nodded appreciatively at her.

“Oh, a surgeon, that’s wonderful,” Colum replied. He looked over at Jamie. “So Jamie, how does it feel that yer lass makes so much more money than ye?”

Jamie’s mouth dropped open a fraction, no immediate reply coming. Claire stepped in. “Well, I know Jamie has significantly less money to pay back. I got an expensive medical degree and have a good amount of loans still. Maybe one day the difference will be larger than it is, but now it’s definitely not.”

Jamie swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Besides, I’ve seen the amazing work Claire does and she deserves every penny she makes.” She smiled at him, rubbing a hand on his shoulder.

“Are ye saying ye dinna do amazing work, Jamie?” Dougal asked.

“I’m no’ exactly saving anyone’s life, now am I?” Jamie retorted. “Anyway, if ye’ll excuse us, Claire and I need to be helping Jenny keep things running. She’ll have our necks if we’re gone too long.” Finding his out, Jamie nodded and turned from them.

“It was lovely to meet you both,” Claire said before following Jamie back to the kitchen.

“Fancy a drink?” He said once they were secluded.

“Absolutely!” They both downed a whisky quickly. Claire took a deep breath. “Jamie,” she started.

“It has never bothered me,” he immediately replied.

She grinned at him. “Are you a mind reader now?” she joked.

“I knew it would be exactly where ye went,” Jamie explained. “No, I dinna care. I’ve never cared. Why should it bother me? Ye do a much more important job than I do. Why should I make more money than ye?”

Claire tilted her head to look at him. “That’s a very mature way to look at it.” He shrugged, a small grin on his face. Claire leaned in and kissed him quickly, a mere echo of their earlier kiss. She sighed when she stepped back. “The food is out there. We’ll have to risk more terrible conversations.”

Jamie grimaced as he looked out the doorway. “I’ll risk it wi’ ye,” he said, ever the dramatic, sticking his hand out.

Claire clasped her hand around his. “Let’s do it.”

A few hours had passed and Claire had somehow lost track of Jamie. Scanning the room for him, she spotted him on the edge of the makeshift dance floor talking with a group of people. She smiled to herself, seeing him in his element. He was ever the people person. She was starting to walk over to him when she bumped into another woman. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

The woman cocked her head. “I dinna think we’ve met before. I’m Mary.”

“Claire.” They shook hands briefly.

“So what is a sassenach doing here?” the woman asked bluntly.

“My boyfriend brought me.”

A grin spread across the woman’s face. “Are ye Duncan’s lass then? He has always had a thing for foreigners.”

Claire felt repulsed by this woman. “No, actually, it’s Jamie Fraser.”

Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “Jamie?” Claire nodded. “Wow, I never would have expected Jamie to bring some sassenach home.”

Claire smiled tightly, standing up a bit straighter. “Well he does live in England. The odds of it happening were quite high.”

“Oh of course,” Mary replied. “It’s just that I always saw Jamie ending up with a Scottish lass.”

Claire’s polite smile faded. “Let me guess, you wanted it to be you?” The woman looked shocked. “Look, you know nothing about me or my relationship with Jamie, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to be anywhere else than here.”

She walked away before the woman could even respond. Heading toward the kitchen, she hoped Jenny had wandered out to enjoy the party. A bit of privacy sounded pretty good at the moment.

~~~

Jamie was talking to a few people who knew his parents back in the day. While it was nice to hear stories of his parents, he was eyeing the people dancing and wanted to drag Claire out there. He was looking around the room to see if he could spot her. Over near the hallway leading toward the kitchen, he saw her. She looked upset. Jamie quickly excused himself and made his way to the kitchen. When he reached the mouth of the hallway, Claire had looked up to see his approach. He needed to know why she was alone and upset. Just before he walked into the kitchen, he was stopped as Dougal stepped out of the bathroom and in front of him. Claire’s eyes went wide and she moved away from view.

“Ah, Jamie, just who I was looking for,” Dougal said, too sweetly.

“Yes?” Jamie asked. He looked past Dougal into the kitchen but Claire had hidden herself well.

“Have I ever told ye what a good job ye do for our company?”

That got Jamie’s attention. He looked back at Dougal. “No, as a matter of fact, ye havena.”

“Well I suppose there’s a first time for everything. Ye really have done a fantastic job with the London marketing department. Colum and I were discussing it just recently. We couldna ask for a better department head.”

Jamie was aghast at Dougal’s impromptu performance review. “Well, uh, thank ye. I appreciate that.” He moved to go into the kitchen but Dougal stopped him.

“Have ye ever been to New York?” Dougal asked.

Jamie stared at him for a moment. “No, I canna say I have.”

“How would ye like to?”

Jamie’s brow furrowed as his confusion grew. “What?”

“I jus’ got back no’ too long ago. It’s a lovely city,” Dougal commented. He leaned in closer to Jamie, almost conspiratorially. “See, here’s where being family is going to be to yer benefit. Ye’re about to find out top secret information that most people dinna even ken yet.” Jamie braced himself for Dougal’s reveal. “We’re looking to expand. Cross the ocean and such. And I scoped out a great office space.”

“Wow,” Jamie replied, shocked. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations to ye as well,” Dougal added. “We’d like ye to be the head of the marketing department in New York City. How exciting does that sound?”

Jamie stared at him for a long moment, feeling unable to catch his breath. “Is this an offer or an order?”

“Well an official offer will have to come in an official capacity and no’ at a family party, but ye’re who Colum and I want in charge. Ye could say it’s the offer of a lifetime.”

Jamie nodded slowly, wishing he could see Claire’s reaction at the moment. “Well, I must say I’m very touched by the fact that ye both thought of me. But I’m afraid that when the official offer comes, I must decline.”

Dougal stared at him, clearly shocked by his decision. “Boy, ye realize this is a big deal.”

“I do. And like I said, I’m very touched. But my life is in London. I enjoy my job and I’m good at my job and I will not be leaving London.”

“Yer life used to be on this little farm until I had ye move to London,” Dougal reminded him. “Surely ye recall that. I gave ye that job and that life ye so enjoy. Why doubt me this time?”

“I have no doubt that this would be a great opportunity for me, but I canna take it. My life is good as it is and I’m no’ willing to risk that,” Jamie said respectfully.

Dougal scoffed in his face. “What is this about? The bloody sassenach?” Jamie tensed. If Dougal insulted Claire, it would take all his power not to hit him. “Jamie, there will be women aplenty in New York. Ones who I’m sure will go crazy fer yer Scottish accent.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “That may be, but I’m no’ interested.”

“We could fire ye if ye dinna take it,” Dougal threatened.

Jamie laughed. “Seriously, after ye took the time to tell me how brilliant a job I’m doing.” He shook his head. “Go ahead. I enjoy my job, but I’ve no doubt I can find another one.”

“Oh really? How’s that? Ye didna finish school,” Dougal reminded in a menacing tone.

“Actually I did,” Jamie revealed. “A few years after I moved to London, I realized that if I didna finish my degree, I could get stuck at Mackenzie Whisky and that was the last thing I wanted. Well, rather, I just wanted to have options so that in moments like these, I dinna have to throw my life away on yer whims. So yes, I have finished my degree. But I appreciate yer concern for my future. Now, if ye’ll excuse me, Dougal, I believe we’re done talking.”

Jamie squeezed past Dougal’s frozen frame and walked into the kitchen, praying he wouldn’t follow. He looked around for Claire but the kitchen was empty. Where could she be? He couldn’t see anyone out the door in the kitchen, but it was worth a risk.

~~~

Claire was sitting on a bench near the kitchen door when Jamie found her. She was trying her best to ignore how cold she was. Jamie sat down next to her. “What are ye doing out here?”

“Well I figured I’d eavesdropped enough,” she mused.

Jamie closed his eyes, sighing. “How much did ye hear?”

“Most of it.”

He turned to her on the bench, grabbing both her hands. “Then ye heard me immediately turn it down.”

She flashed him a small smile. “Yes, I did. But that’s not what troubled me.”

“What do ye mean?”

“Jamie, if you want this job, you should take it,” she said, looking up at him, feeling her heart break at the suggestion. “Dougal could be right. It could be a great opportunity for you and I don’t want to stand in the way of that.”

Jamie shook his head, squeezing her hands in his. “It’s no’ some big opportunity. It’s my same job just in a different city. And I don’t want to live in America. I’d be far away from everything I ken. My family, my friends. And you.” He held her gaze, making sure she saw how serious he was at his last point.

“Jamie, I just don’t want to be the person who holds you back from something good for you,” Claire said nervously. “I heard what Dougal said about how they could fire you.”

“So I’d find a different job. I’m employable,” Jamie said with a shrug.

“I just…” Claire tried to find the way articulate her fears. “I don’t want to stop you from doing something.”

Jamie pushed a stray curl behind her ear. “Mo nighean donn, I dinna want to move out of London. I meant what I said. Ye’re no’ the thing holding me back from something good. Ye’re the one keeping me where I want to be. I’ve already seen ye in a long distance relationship and I dinna want to be part of that myself. I canna imagine going more than a day wi’out seeing yer face.” He reached up and caressed her cheek.

She smiled and leaned into his hand. No matter how hard she tried though, her insecurities were coming back to the surface. “Are you sure though? I mean, our relationship as of late hasn’t been worth…” she stopped, not sure how to proceed.

Jamie’s brow furrowed. “I’ve actually been thinking about that.” Fear coursed through her and no doubt showed on her face. Jamie looked shocked at her expression. “I wasna about to end anything, I promise!” She closed her eyes and breathed out a laugh. Jamie leaned forward and kissed her gently. She reached up to lay her hand on his cheek. When he pulled back, he laid his forehead against hers. “I was thinking that it’s Hogmanay.”

Claire pulled back further. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jamie stood up and pulled her with him. “Well it’s a fresh start, aye? In…” he looked at his watch, “forty three minutes, it’ll be a new year.” Jamie took both her hands in his. “So what if we leave all the awkwardness and tension of our relationship in 2018?” Claire smiled at him. “I love ye, Claire, and I’m over the pain of that bloody fight. I just want us to be us again. Don’t ye?”

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. “Desperately.”

“It’s been better here, aye? I’m no’ the only one who sees that, right?” Jamie asked.

“No, it has been.” She released a watery laugh. “I guess we know what to do if our relationship ever hits a bump in the road. We just come to Scotland.”

Jamie laughed with her. “Aye, where it all began.”

“Wow, that was quite cheesy. You say it like it wasn’t only five months ago.”

Jamie frowned at her. “I actually meant when we were kids.”

Claire laughed loudly, leaning her head against his chest. “That’s even cheesier!”

Jamie shook his head, bringing her face up to his. “Do ye promise then? That we’ll start the new year on the right foot? And we can both let go of any bad feelings?”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, watching him earnestly. “I promise,” she whispered.

“I do too.” Jamie leaned down and met her for a kiss, pulling her in closer. Jamie broke away and looked down at her, an intense look in his eyes. “I love ye so much, Sassenach.”

Claire smiled brightly, running a hand through his hair. “I love you too, Jamie. So bloody much.”

When they met again in a kiss, it wasn’t gentle. Jami pulled her as close as possible, his hands quickly starting to roam. Claire’s hands clutched to his back as her tongue found its way into his mouth. The feel of being surrounded by him again was intoxicating. Claire felt more drunk on him than she had with the alcohol during the party. Jamie’s hands found her ass pretty quickly, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Soon, he was walking them backwards and she felt her back hit the wall of the house. He pressed even closer to her, his hips pinning her to the wall. His mouth left hers to leave kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Claire gasped at his attentions as she tangled her hands in his hair. His hands pulled on her waist. “Christ, I’ve missed ye,” he breathed against her neck.

“I know,” she sighed. “Me too. I’m sorry.”

Jamie froze, looking up at her. “Please dinna apologize.” He held her gaze. “I think ye’ve made more than enough apologies. Wouldn’t ye say?”

Claire couldn’t fight the smile as she nodded. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

He nodded with her before leaning back in to kiss her. “Come wi’ me.”

“Anywhere,” she breathed, taking his hand. He smirked at her before he dragged her off away from the house. “Where are we going?”

Jamie didn’t stop walking but he looked back at her with a smirk. “Ye’ll see.”

He led them over the hill and stopped in front of the barn. “The barn?” Claire asked, clearly dubious.

Jamie pulled her in for a kiss, walking backwards toward the barn. “Why no’?”

Claire pulled back suddenly. “Wait, have you ever done this with anyone else in the barn?” He laughed and shook his head. “Then let us proceed.”

All the humor faded from the moment between them. They stared at each other with a hungry intensity. Like magnets, they snapped back together, kissing each other madly. Jamie quickly picked Claire up, her legs wrapping around his waist, as he walked them into the barn. Stumbling, they crashed into one of the wooden posts. Jamie just pressed further into her, making his want of her known. Their mouths were nearly fused together as their hands explored again. Claire could feel him against her and she started to grind her hips against his. He groaned at the feeling, pulling back to kiss her chest. “I need ye,” he panted into her skin.

“Me too,” she responded, grinding harder.

“If ye dinna stop, this may all be over before it starts,” he joked.

Claire stopped and unwound her legs from his waist, jumping down from his embrace. “Well we can’t have that.” She backed away from him, pulling down the zipper of her dress.

Jamie broke eye contact to grab a blanket from one of the shelves by the door. He walked past Claire and laid it down on the pile of hay at the back of the barn. She eyed him skeptically. “Now, that seems like someone who has experience having sex in a barn.”

Jamie grinned, wrapping his arms around her. “Nah, I’ve just taken a lot of naps in here when I was avoiding Jenny’s orders.”

Claire laughed loudly. “Well after this week, I certainly get that.”

He hummed his amusement before he leaned down to pull at the hem of her dress. She held her hands up, allowing him to take it off of her. Before he could even appreciate the sight of her, her hands were at the buttons of his shirt. He moved to undo his pants, wanting them both to be naked as fast as possible. A small chill ran down Claire’s spine and she didn’t think it was all to do with Jamie. “We picked a really cold night for this,” she chattered.

Jamie stepped out of his pants and walked toward her. “Then here, let me warm ye.”

She clutched to him immediately and not because she was cold. Their undergarments were all that stood between them. Jamie’s kisses down her body were certainly warming her up, if not in the same way. He knelt down in front of her, removing her panties almost reverently. She threw off her bra and knelt down to take off his boxers.

They stared at each other for a moment once they were both completely naked. Jamie just smiled at her. She smiled back, reaching out slowly to grab ahold of him. He groaned at her grip, his eyes closing. Her hand went to her slit, using some of her own wetness to slide her hand up his length. Jamie’s eyes were dark and his mouth hung open as he watched her. “Claire,” he rasped. He pulled her hand from him and nudged her shoulder so she would lay down. When she was on her back, he hovered over her, kissing his way up her body til he reached her lips. “I dinna need that right now. I need ye,” he breathed. She nodded her assent, moving her foot along his calf. Without delay, he drove home.

Claire moaned at the feeling of him filling her. It had been exquisitely missed in their small bout of abstinence. Jamie was still inside her for a moment but Claire kept moving, trying to get him deeper. “Jamie,” she panted. “Please.” His eyes locked on hers and his hips thrust against hers. Her fingernails clawed down his back. “Yes,” she sighed loudly. “Harder.”

Jamie’s hands were no doubt leaving bruises on her skin but she’d relish them. He drove into her deeply, pulling her leg up around his waist and holding it there. His mouth moved over her body. Her lips, her breasts, her neck. “I canna be gentle,” he admitted in a soft voice.

“Good,” Claire answered, lifting her hips to meet his in a hard thrust.

“God, I love ye,” he moaned. “I love ye, I love ye, I love ye,” he repeated over and over as he continued to wind her up into a frenzy.

Claire could feel her release building within her. She met Jamie for each thrust, willing her climax to reach her. Suddenly, he hit the right spot within her. “There,” she cried, urging him to do so again. Ever the willing student, Jamie repeated his action again and again until she was collapsing around him. He was not long behind her, nearly falling on her with a loud groan of pleasure.

He rolled to his side, bringing her to lay on her side and face him. Jamie reached up and stroked her cheek as they both lay there spent and panting. “I love you too,” she breathed. He smiled, leaning forward to kiss her softly. The boom of fireworks went off above them, announcing the arrival of the new year. They both laughed, looking back at each other. “Happy New Year,” they both whispered to the other before meeting for a long and lazy midnight kiss. “You know, this was the first Hogmanay I’ve celebrated since I was 10 years old,” Claire remembered.

“And? Thoughts?” Jamie teased, his hand squeezing at her hip.

“It seems appropriate to be here at Lallybroch. And here with you.”

They laid there for a while, holding each other and cherishing the afterglow. It wasn’t until Claire started to shiver that they redressed and walked back to the house, hand in hand, hoping they didn’t both look thoroughly fucked.

If Jenny and Ian had noticed their absence, they blessedly stayed silent. The guests had, for the most part, dispersed and the house was theirs again. After helping clean up as much as Jenny would let them, Jamie and Claire went back up to their room. Claire quickly stripped again before running to climb under the mound of blankets on the bed. Jamie chuckled as he did the same, but slower. He was about to climb in next to her when he remembered something. Claire watched as he rifled through his suitcase. He walked back to the bed and climbed in next to her, bringing her close to him.

“Here,” he said simply, extending his hand. Claire looked down at his hand and noticed a familiar jewelry box sitting there. She glanced back up to Jamie to see him smiling and nodding. Before even taking the box from him, Claire clutched him to her, kissing him hard. She held his gaze for a long beat before reaching out to pick up and open the box. The small circle of emeralds with diamonds in the center twinkled up at her. Claire stared down at the earrings formed like small wreaths of gems, completely in awe.

“These are so gorgeous,” she sighed. “Jamie, I...they’re amazing.”

He smiled broadly at her appreciation of his gift, planting a kiss on her shoulder. “Aye, ye didna really see them the last time.” Claire snapped her head up and glared at him. “Too soon?”

“By about three decades, I think,” she retorted. He bowed his head in apology. She reached a finger out to run delicately over the earrings. “They’re so beautiful. I don’t really remember your mother wearing them.”

“Well aye, she only wore them on special occasions,” Jamie recalled. “Da gave them to her after I was born.” “Ah, hence the emeralds,” she remarked, still staring at them.

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “They were very precious to her and she left them to me when she passed. And I always said I’d give them to someone very precious to me.” He met gaze pointedly. Claire felt tears in her eyes as she reached out to cup his cheek. “After Mam died, I never thought I’d get to give them to someone who actually knew her too. It makes it even more special this way.” He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Thank you, Jamie. I promise you, the weight of it is not lost on me, nor the memory of the wonderful woman who owned them first,” Claire replied as a happy tear trickled down her cheek.

“Happy New Year, mo nighean donn,” he said before he kissed her again.

Claire set down the box on her lap and held his face in her hands, staring at him. “I know it will be, James Fraser, since I’ll spend it with you.”

Next chapter

[magnoliasinbloom]

The Midwife

AO3 :: Previously

XVI

With an aching heart, I set about helping the remaining healthy sisters keep order about the hospital. Without Mother Hildegarde at the helm, morale was low and the situation desperate. There were barely enough supplies to allow us to help the sick, and the garden in wintertime mostly bare of the most essential of herbs and plants.

I changed back into my workaday clothes, folding the yellow dress into the trunk in my cell. I laid the pearls within the skirts with infinite care, a token of Jamie’s love for me. The silver of my wedding ring gleamed on my finger—that, I would keep with me always.

That first day was the hardest. I could not help my mind wandering back to thoughts of Jamie, of our wedding night. When we had said our vows on the bridge, I had not imagined that we might ever be separated again—least of all so soon. I had pictured us traveling together, enjoying a counterfeit honeymoon of sorts, before facing the challenge of the MacKenzies at Castle Leoch. It was also the thought of him that kept me going through that dark night, cleaning up after patients and cooling fevered brows. I did not think I would ever get the smell of vinegar off me.

Malva kept her distance, the cut on her cheek reminding me (and hopefully her) what I was capable of if she interfered once more. She was morose but helpful, carrying basins of water and cleaning soiled pallets and cloths. Laboring tirelessly with other sisters, I had twice the work, checking on those she tended to when she was gone to make sure she was not hurting them. The ravaging effects of smallpox could last up to thirty days but I would not be able to stay that long.

I endeavored to work as far away from her as possible; I remained close to Madame Bonheur and Madame de Ramelle, who had also been called upon to assist our efforts in the hospital. At dawn the next day, Sister Angelique woke me from a light sleep. I had sat in the sick room, too wary to return to my cell with Malva around. I stirred and was immediately alert.

“Yes, Sister?”

“Cherchez Maître Raymond. We have dire need of febrifuges and he may have a store of dried herbs. We are almost all out.” She handed me the woven basket as though this were any other day. “Ask him to come, if he can.” I stopped to clean my hands as I left, and tied on a new face mask as an added measure.

The streets were devoid of people, most citizens aware of the danger of smallpox and staying away from the convent and hospital grounds. Even Jamie had so far kept his promise. The mere thought of my husband again released an ache in my chest. Keeping busy had been the best remedy for the pain of not having him near. How could I know if he was alright?

I felt a vague uneasiness as I made my way onto Rue de Varenne to Monsieur Raymond’s apothecary shop and met no one on the road. I stepped up to the door, surprised when it did not yield as I pushed. There was no merry tinkling bell; the shop was closed. I noticed that one of the windows was smashed, Exasperated, I tugged my mask down, shoving wayward curls out of my face.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Madonna.”

Master Raymond’s voice cut through the air, and I jumped back, startled. He was peeking out from the alley next to the shop, from an old unused door that was usually boarded up. He looked frail and worn, his old joviality muted.

“Maître Raymond! What has happened?” I cried, stepping into the alley.

“People are frantic. The smallpox, it has spread further into the city. Some came to me for aid, others to destroy. Quel dommage.” His tone was that of a man resigned, but I detected a hint of fire behind his words.

“That is precisely why I am here. L’Hôpital des Anges is lacking remedies, we are tending to many of the sick. Monsieur, we have need of your help—”

“I’m afraid I cannot help you much, Madonna. When illness strikes, remember it is often the healers who are blamed. I am leaving Paris for a time, child, until everything returns to normal. Here, take these.” He held out a parcel wrapped in cheesecloth.

I unwrapped it briefly, and saw willow bark, dried yarrow, basil, calendula, sassafras, and peppermint. “Thank you, monsieur. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Rien, ma chère. I will return. I always do. But if I could—a warning. Beware of the grey. Seek the red man.” Maître Raymond crept back inside the shop, with a final, “Adieu, Madonna.”

The red man could only be Jamie. But I could not seek him yet, for I could still carry the disease. With his cryptic warning, I hurried back to the hospital. As I crossed through the garden door for faster access, I spotted a bright cluster of hellebore—the winter rose—on the step, tied with blue ribbon the same hue as Jamie’s eyes. I scooped it up and held it to my nose, face buried in the fragrant blooms. I looked around, but could see no one. I smiled for the first time. Hellebore meant tranquility, protection against lies, scandal, or anxiety. I had wished I could get a message to Jamie, but the city was practically quarantined and I would not risk sending someone that could potentially carry smallpox along with my letter. But I should have known better than to think Jamie would be so patient.

The next day, after an intense battle with Monsieur Forez to discourage him from bleeding patients, I ventured outside for fresh air and solace. There was a small bouquet of cheerful purple pansies. I thought perhaps Jamie was raiding Jared’s garden at Rue Tremoulins; I pictured him cutting flowers and making his way to the hospital to leave them at my door. The image lifted my spirits immensely, even as concern mingled equally with joy.

Still clutching my pansies, I went back inside to have a quick meal of bread and cheese and ale in the refectory. Sister Madeleine found me there, saying Mother Hildegarde was asking for me. Leaving the pewter mug and wooden bowl on the table, I rushed to the abbess’s side. She had been quite delirious the past two days, recognizing no one and speaking in her native German. If she was lucid enough to say my name, I thought it was good news.

Grabbing a clean cloth, I dipped it in water and witch hazel, laying it across Mother Hildegarde’s brow. Her face was not yet stippled with the telltale rash of smallpox. “I’m here, ma mère. Ça va?”

“Claire. What are you doing?” she asked in a rasping voice.

“You asked for me,” I replied, confused. “I am helping the sick.”

“No. You must leave. Your Jamie…”

“He is alright, he understands,” I said soothingly, taking the cloth and dabbing it on Mother Hildegarde’s flushed skin. “He is my husband now.”

A smile flickered on the edges of her mouth. “Je suis heureuse d'entendre cela.” Quick as a blink, her mood change, and she frowned. “I am also sorry I doubted your word, Claire. I know now you were not guilty of what happened with the belladonna or that poor woman.”

“How did you know?”

“God has shown me the error of my ways. I will join Him soon enough in heaven.” Her breathing wheezed, and a chill overtook her voluminous body. She was sweating profusely; she reached up, tearing at her nun’s veil. As it fell away, it revealed a head of closely cropped, iron grey hair.

“Do not say that, Mother, please. I will not let that happen,” I said, my eyes filling with tears.

“It is for God to decide, not us. I wanted to say… I am glad you came to us. Dear Julia and I will watch over you, do not fear…” Mother Hildegarde’s eyes drifted closed, and she fell into a restless sleep. I glanced up, and met Malva’s gaze.