#Despite everything he had retired from social networks but I still remember his drawings

[5hithappen5]

The female version looks great OMG!!! 😭💖

Recent 🐭🍬 sketch log

Didn’t get too much time for doing dj fan art these days…

[empressapprentice]

Arcana Headcanons: Infidelity + M6

I’m back with more headcanons, and will be sharing even more soon as I have more free time! My last batch was super sweet and fluffy, these are decidedly not. I’m doing these headcanons as character study exercises, and since the LIs are so devoted to you in-game, I wanted to think about what could possibly motivate them to cheat. Not all of these involve sex because I thought that certain characters would consider emotional interactions cheating on their partner. But warning for non-explicit sexual content for several of the M6--I’d say this is PG-13. These are kind of long, but I felt I needed some good exposition to set things up. I hate how much I enjoy angst :( Feedback and requests are always welcomed: if you hate it or love it, let me know why so I can improve! Plus, check out my Ao3 here, where I’ll be posting these as well.

Asra

Asra will never, ever regret giving up half his heart for you. But one night, he can’t sleep, feeling regret for the friendships and relationships he missed out on because it’s so difficult to form connections with others. He wishes that while he waited for you to recover from the resurrection, he’d been able to let others into his life.

He’s slept with people other than you (Julian, for one), but not since you woke up after the ritual. He realizes that he can’t remember any of his previous encounters. He completely forgot what anyone other than you feels like to hold and to touch.

The next day, he tells you that he wants to take a quick overnight trip to Nopal. With such late notice, you can’t tag along. He just wants to spend some time alone and actually get to know the villagers for once, intending to practice his social skills and break the cycle of isolation he unintentionally maintained with the people there.

When he sits around the fire, eating and sharing stories with the villagers, a handsome young man approaches him. He says that he’s always had a crush on the mysterious magician, but could tell that Asra was never open to getting to know anyone. Asra, remembering that he doesn’t know what it’s like to be close to someone else, starts flirting back. Before he knows it, his lips are brushing against the stranger’s.

The moment their lips meet, Asra pulls back sharply, overcome with guilt for betraying your trust. He shakily apologizes to the young man, saying he didn’t know what came over him. He runs back to his hut, gets on the Beast and travels back to Vesuvia as fast as possible. Faust comforts him as he sobs silently, thinking about never wanting to leave your arms again.

Nadia

Nadia is visiting a neighboring territory and sitting through a very, very boring dinner with dignitaries. She’s been away from Vesuvia for a week and anticipates having to stay for at least one more as negotiations drag on. She’s loath to admit it, but she’s lonely. The letters you’ve exchanged via Chandra only make the separation more painful.

So when a diplomat approaches her with questions about Vesuvia, she’s happy to have some company. She clearly admires Nadia quite a bit and compliments the work she’s done to turn Vesuvia around.

While basking in her companion’s kind words, she unconsciously moves closer to the other woman. It doesn’t take long for the conversation to become personal, moving away from professional networking. And even more quickly, the conversation becomes flirty. When Nadia moves her hand to touch the other woman, her intentions are clear. The diplomat is flattered, but hesitant, asking, “Aren’t you married?”

Nadia is momentarily stunned by the question, but refuses to lose her composure. The lie comes easily, from years of schmoozing fellow politicians. She replies that her marriage is open. The diplomat smiles, unaware of the shame pooling in Nadia’s core. She sheepishly invites the Countess back to her room.

Though the dinner is long over and the party moved into the sitting room for a digestif, many having already left, Nadia finds herself worried how it would look for the two of them to leave together. She hates herself for worrying more about appearances than you, but she’s been particularly hungry for the feel of a body next to her in bed and she’s frustrated at not being able to get what she wants for once. So, she agrees.

She excuses herself, saying that she must retire for the night, and waits a few moments for the diplomat to leave as well.

Nadia excuses herself after the shameful act, saying she must be in her own bed when servants come to wake her in the morning. She spends the rest of the night staring at her ceiling, vowing to never tell you about her indiscretion. You find out, of course, knowing your wife too well for her to hide that something’s wrong.

Julian

One night, he goes to the Rowdy Raven and is mid-tankard of Salty Bitters while animatedly telling the story of how he helped defeat the Devil. When he finishes weaving the tale, he heads back to the bar to another drink. Before he can get his coin purse to pay, an extremely attractive stranger tells Barth to put it on their tab--payment for the entertaining story.

Julian gratefully accepts, sliding into a seat to chat with the stranger. Whether consciously or unconsciously, Julian turns his charm up even more, wanting to make sure he keeps them entertained. They swap introductions, Julian’s natural tendency to call people affectionate names and his rakish attitude being interpreted as flirtation.

As the stranger returns the affection, Julian realizes what’s happening but doesn’t want to stop it. He’s practically glowing from the kind words flowing from the mouth of his new friend and is addicted to the feeling. A nagging voice tells him he should get back home to you, but it is quieted when the stranger moves closer to him, running a finger over his chest.

The stranger downs their drink and gets up abruptly. They tell Julian to finish his drink and meet them in the alley outside, with a cheeky comment about seeing what else his mouth could do thrown over their shoulder as they walk out the back of the tavern.

Julian’s breath catches at the thought of a clandestine alleyway quickie, and he can’t deny how appealing the idea seems to him. He stares at the drink remaining in his glass, fighting a mental war over whether to finish it quickly and run to the alley.

Barth approaches Julian, noticing he was about to finish his latest drink and anticipating a request for a refill. While waiting for Julian to finish, he makes light conversation with him. When he asks how you are doing, Julian bolts upright. His face reddens at the mention of your name, knowing he made a grave mistake even considering the stranger’s offer.

Julian leaves the rest of his drink untouched. He awkwardly gets up, says goodnight to Barth and hopes that he won’t run into the stranger when he exits the Raven out the front door. Mercifully, he doesn’t, but he might not have even noticed, he was so focused on getting back to you.

When he reaches the front door of the place you share, he’s sobbing. Even though it’s late, you are waiting up for him, knowing that he often needs you to offer him water and get him to eat some food after a night out. He falls on his knees before you, utterly broken by the kindness of you waiting to take care of him, and begs you to listen to him one last time. He tells you, again, that he is no good for you and it is inevitable he will break your heart. He confesses everything that happened at the bar, his voice breaking when he says how close he was to cheating on you. He admits in a small voice that he will never be worthy of you--despite all he’s changed, he’s always one step away from hurting you.

Lucio

Lucio is dressed in a new outfit, finely made and very flattering. He is about to attend a party at his estate in honor of the summer solstice. The last step in his pre-party ritual before joining you and making a grand entrance fashionably late is to admire himself in the mirror. He poses and struts in front of it, hyping himself up for the night, but stopping short as he notices a grey hair in his meticulously coiffed style.

Moving closer to the mirror, he is horrified that several other grey hairs have popped out since the last time he dyed his hair, not long ago. Stepping back, he frantically tries to change the style to hide them, shrieking as he realizes the wrinkles on his forehead are deeper than he remembers. The time-honored ritual, which has never failed to put him in the right mindset for a night of socialization, has only made him more self-conscious about his age than ever.

He starts pacing around his room, heels clicking and mind racing. He feels a strange sense of longing for his old life, when he had no responsibilities and never worried about the consequences of his actions. He’s old now, and he wishes for the freedom and stupidity of youth.

When he makes the grand entrance with you at the party, his heart isn’t really in it. He immediately heads for a servant, demanding a glass of hard liquor instead of his usual sparkling wine. One glass turns into several, and it’s not long before he’s very intoxicated. You see Lucio drinking more than usual, but you keep getting distracted by guests and can’t figure out what’s going on with him.

Once he’s drunk enough to not care about anything--just as he intended--he makes eye contact with an attractive woman in a slinky gown and winks. His rough flirting works, as the woman comes up to him. He feels a mixture of pride and shame that he’s still attractive and powerful enough to draw someone in with nothing more than a wink.

They chat briefly, but they both know Lucio desires more than conversation and the guest is more than willing to oblige. He takes the woman’s hand, leading her to an alcove far away from the party and they begin to make out. Soon his pants are at his ankles and they’re doing far more than kissing. It’s rough, messy and fast, exactly the thing he would have done in his life before he got the plague and before you.

The woman leaves him panting when they’ve both finished. His stomach drops as he realizes that this cheap attempt at feeling young again only made him feel worse. He realizes with a start that he jeopardized the thing that actually fulfills him and makes him truly happy.

Muriel

Muriel dislikes social interactions with pretty much everyone, especially strangers. How could he possibly cheat on you when he can hardly stand to spend time around his friends?

But as he becomes more comfortable with being around people, he starts spending time around the Palace. Usually, he’s waiting for you to finish your duties with Nadia so he can walk you home or go back to the shop for dinner, but sometimes he comes early so he can spend a quiet moment in the gardens.

The more time he spends at the Palace, befriending some of Lucio’s poorly-behaved albino animals and trying to train them, the more time he spends with a certain servant determined to befriend him.

At first, they don’t even catch his attention, he’s so used to tuning other people out. But this servant notices his gentle nature and sometimes brings him some water or tea and a pastry while he’s sitting by the fountain. They claim that they’ve been trained to always serve the needs of their guests, but they’re mostly interested in getting Muriel to open up.

After several weeks of Muriel becoming used to the servant and accepting that they can be trusted, he begins exchanging a few words with them beyond a grunted thanks for the refreshments. The way the servant approaches him reminds him of you and he finds he doesn’t mind light conversation to entertain him and distract him from Lucio’s pets.

One day, he realizes with a start that he not only trusts the servant and enjoys their company, but that he finds them attractive. He panics, not knowing how to tell you. He feels so ashamed of himself for letting someone new in and he’s never felt attracted to someone like this before, other than with you. He’s confused on how to handle his feelings and how he should tell you, if at all.

He confesses the situation to Asra before going to you. Asra is very kind and supportive, saying that it is natural to find other people attractive and that it’s a good sign that he is willing to let a stranger befriend him. But Muriel can’t shake the idea that he’s done wrong by you and refuses to come back to the gardens.

Portia

Given how much Portia likes secrets and romance stories, I think a part of her would love the idea of a sneaky romance. Portia is a deeply practical person, but there are times where she can get carried away with romanticism. The thrill of getting away with it and using her knowledge of the secret passages in the Palace, etc. to hide a tryst holds some appeal to her, but she’d feel ashamed of even fantasizing about it.

She has to work on the first night of the Masquerade after the events of the game due to her new responsibilities at the Palace. Out of solidarity, you work too, creating real-time magical spectacles to surprise guests. To keep up the aesthetic, you’re both still wearing costumes and masks.

While Portia is in the ballroom, she’s fretting over the floral displays and a heavily intoxicated person knocks into her, sending the vase flying. Before Portia can even react, she falls into strong arms, rescuing her from the splashing water and strewn flowers. She turns to thank the stranger, and they say she can express her gratitude by granting them a dance. In the spirit of the Masquerade, she accepts.

She and the stranger twirl around the dance floor to a fast-paced song. The stranger is a fantastic dancer and leads Portia through the steps flawlessly. They end the song by dipping her low. The music switches to a slow ballad while the lights dim. Still breathless, the stranger pulls Portia close, and she loses herself in the moment. The ambiance is incredible, and kissing a gorgeous masked stranger at a ball could not be more storybook-perfect. Their lips touch, until a swirl of magical energy brushes her and she remembers you. She steps back from the stranger and runs off, forgetting about her duties, the flowers on the ground and the rest of the Masquerade. She feels horrible about kissing someone other than you but can’t shake the smug pleasure deep inside her that loves her fairytale romance coming to life.

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 22 ~The Tale of the Night Part One~

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!  

Claire's heart started to beat a little faster as their hired Bentley slowly inched closer to the Hilton Hotel Glasgow. They were following a long line of fancy cars waiting for their turn to pull up, step out and parade themselves. She felt Jamie's gentle squeeze on her hand, but it didn't help quash the feeling of apprehension. She'd promised Jamie to stand by him but seeing the throngs of excited fans and reporters behind the installed barriers, made her want to curl up in a fetal position and not leave the car.

"Sassenach, are ye alright?"

Huh?  She turned and looked at him and saw the worried lines etched on his face. She gave him a feeble smile. "I'm fine," she lied, trying to convince herself as well as him. "I know events like this draw crowds ... it's just that I didn't realise it would be as crazy as this. I-it's one thing seeing it on TV or pictures, but this ..." She leans forward and waves a hand, the frenzy screams and shouts, giving her jitters. "There's a bloody mob out there. It's insane!"

Jamie gently drew her sideways against him, tucking her in under his arm. "Some people from the movie industry will be there too, that's why. Events like this like to invite big names to attract the media. And Prince Harry will be making an appearance as well, most probably to promote the Invictus Games."

"Invictus wot?" she asked absentmindedly, her attention fixated on the excited crowd outside.

"It's a paralympic-style sporting event for injured military servicemen and women. It's a foundation launched by Prince Harry," he explained, following her gaze.

Only half-listening, Claire closed her eyes and tried to breathe normally, focusing on Jamie's hand on her arms. It helped a bit to soothe her nerves. For a split second of weakness, she thought of suggesting to let her slip into the back entrance and meet him inside the hotel lobby after his pap-walk but remembered her promise to stand by him tonight and dropped the idea. "Does this get any easier for you?" Claire asked, glad for the darkened windows that hid them from the flashing camera lights.

"What? This?" He puffed out his cheeks and blew out air. "No. The public looks like the giant scary monster, but truthfully, I dinnae mind the fans. The problem is the media. The media isnae journalism as ye know it anymore. They turn everything into a bloody circus show."

She shuddered, remembering her indirect first-hand experience with the reporters and how they've made her looked like the cheating fiancée and Frank, the virtuous, pillar of the society, who could do no wrong. "Tell me about it," she whispered.

"Stations and news will gobble up anything - the more sensational the story, the better, anything for the ratings. Ratings are everything. Ratings mean money and lots of it. Perhaps it really is just a matter of time before they're funding the nefarious for the consumption of the people. There's nae more moral compass, only the most immoral become the victors in this industry, and so on. Morality is for losers, winners are the ones who "pushed the envelope." He looked at her, and she didn't miss the subtle change in his demeanour. "As I told ye before, the tabloids will feed the public some shite by publishing pictures, and when it's captured at a right angle, it could be taken in any context ye want. The news' outlets delight on that because the fans can make up their own stories and they write articles based on their speculations."

"Has it ever happened to you?"

"What? Speculations? Aye. Many times. With my reputation, I'm fodder for other celebrities' publicist, especially when movies or projects need to be promoted. I tend to get used for that end. I'm not saying my reputation was a made-up lie. I'm not proud of it, but I own my shit. The problem with this industry is when ye want to use their platform or be part of it, be prepared to whore yersel' literally or figuratively." He lets out a short laugh. "Thanks to them and the publicity stunts, I've increased my followings on social media, which of course, opened other avenues such us modelling for big-name products even if I've never done that line of work before. The upside - it made me loads of money."

"So, you reckon the network will want something from you?"

"Aye, most probably. But ye'll have yer say in it, Sassenach. This is nae longer just about me," Jamie's mouth pressed into a determined line. "This concerns ye too."

"But, this job means the world to ye, Jamie."

He twisted around to face her, and his hand stroke her cheek. "Dreams and priorities change over time, Sassenach. Ye come first now because I'll need someone who will hold on to my soul in that crazy world out there. But I'm warning ye. If ye agree to let me take on the job, there'll be a lot of things ye'll not like and perhaps disappointments. Whatever happens tonight, I'll need ye to trust me in this. Ye dae trust me, aye?"

Claire squeezed his hand. "Yes, of course, I trust you." She nervously glanced through the windshield and saw there was only one car left in front of them before it was their turn to get off. "I meant to go over things with you, Jamie. What do you need from me out there?"

His face softened. "Just be yourself and smile. Ye dinnae need to answer questions from the press if ye dinnae feel like it. If ye do though, dinnae reveal anything personal and give them an arsenal for future use." He leaned in and gave her a kiss. "And thank ye for being here with me. It means a lot."

She nodded and smiled weakly, still dazed from the surreality of the upcoming moment when they would step out as a couple. It was quite apparent they were both not looking forward to going out there, and for Claire, it was one hell of a circus show to go through just for a presenting job.

"Ye sure ye'll be okay?" Jamie asked. "There's still time to turn around if ye wish. There'll be nae hiding once we step out." His tone was guarded and tinged with concern. "I ken I asked ye to stand by me. But I can go out there by myself, present the award, listen to what the network has to say and if I dinnae like it, I'll leave, and we can enjoy Glasgow for the rest of the evening."

The suggestion was too tempting, and it would be an easy way out. But Jamie could lose out on his dream job because he would choose her. She didn't want that. Claire turned and saw him looking at her thoughtfully, earnestly waiting for an answer, as the ghost of past heartache resurrected in her head. When James Fraser loved, it was scary. The man put his entire heart out with the expectation that it would be crushed. Sometimes she worried at the way he looked at her and at the way she felt for him. It seemed too precious and too rare to explore knowing if it didn't work out between them, the heartache would be greater. If she ever lost this man, she would never recover. If he ever lost her, she feared for the man that he would become. She could only hope that their relationship would survive Jamie's new career.

Swallowing the odd lump in her throat, she gave him her best smile and summoned the courage. If he's willing to sacrifice his dreams, she was prepared to at least try and take this on too before he gave it up altogether. "Hey I'm a big girl, remember. I can tough this one out," she whispered, attempting to sound cheerful.

His handsome face lit up. Grinning, he leaned in for a final kiss before grabbing the handle of the car's door. "Weel, let's do this then, Sassenach.".

..........

Ah, bloody hell, here goes nothing!  

Claire inhaled deeply and took Jamie's hand as she stepped out of the car. She felt like entering into another realm as she was greeted by frantic screaming, knowing it had more to do with Jamie's appearance than her stepping out. It was very loud, more than she'd imagined it would be with a crowd such as this, and the deafening noise was reinforced more by all the shouting, cheering, camera flashes, instructions yelled out by photographers at celebrities, and security and ushers barking orders.

"Jamie! Jamie!"

"We love ye, Jamie!"

"Jamie, please sign this!

"Jamie! This way, please!

"Jamieee, selfie please."

Jamie's hand tightened and tugged her forward, her eyes blinking and squinting against the flashing of bulbs and set of lights beaming down on them. He leaned down to say something, but she couldn't hear over the screams of hysterical fans. Although she'd been a fan of Jamie for years, she couldn't understand the over-the-top hero-worship and grown women shrieking whenever Jamie smiled, winked or waved. People crying and all these hysteria for a retired rugby player was simply just beyond her.  Heaven forbid Jamie ends up becoming an actor. Unbelievable!

Jamie led her to the top end where the broadcast outlets were, namely BBC, ITV as well as UKSC, the network Jamie might one day work for. He subtly reminded her when to stop and where to look as the photographers furiously took their pictures. His eyes were on her the whole time, a knowing upturn tugging his lips and his hand always pulling her against him. He kissed her for the cameras as if it was his way of announcing she was his, and although Jamie ignored requests from the journalists to introduce her, she obliged them, despite herself, by smiling for their lenses instead. Claire was surprised not one of the photographers had recognised her as the infamous  Runaway Bride . She hoped her unknown status would remain for the rest of the evening, but she knew reporters were like a dog with a bone and it was only a matter of time before they caught on.

"Hey, Jamie, who's the pretty lady with ye?"

"Can we have a name, please?"

"The dress is gorgeous. Who designed it?"

"Jamie, a quick interview, please?"

"Sorry ye lot, time for us to go in," he deflected, pretending to look disheartened while putting one hand dramatically over his chest and another, tugging her elbow and leading her away from the crowd and into the double doors of the hotel. 

What a charmer!   Despite Jamie loathing the media, he had a way with the reporters, whether they were women or men. Not once he showed a hint of annoyance even if she could feel it pulsing from his aura. He was evasive when people asked questions but somehow managed to get away with it with a smile or a wink, lending them a sense of mystery. Maybe Jamie was born for this. He did everything with ease and was full of self-confidence in front of the watchful eyes of the public. Whereas, her, she felt like she was caught up in a current, whirled and tossed in every direction. Her face hurt from endless smiling, hand numbed from Jamie's constant hard grip and her feet already throbbed from the ridiculously high stilettos. She hoped Jamie's charms would be enough to tide her over when the media finally finds out who she was.

One hurdle down, a million more to go!  Once they made it through the hotel's lobby, her first thought was to grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, but Jamie kept walking and steered her through groups of people, nodding and acknowledging with a smile those who glance their way. 

"It wasnae so bad, was it?" Jamie murmured against her ear as they positioned themselves at the least populous area of the lobby. "Ye look so beautiful tonight, and everyone thinks so too. Ye've captivated the press and the fans." He took a couple of champagne from a passing blonde waitress who was beaming up at him, but he didn't notice the awed gaze.

"Captivated? More like inquisitive," she replied, taking a huge gulp from the bubbly Jamie gave her and scanning the crowd. "The press is probably running my picture through some facial recognition software as we speak. I hope with the amount of makeup Geillis plied on my face, they'll fail at their attempt."

"That's not how facial recognition software work, Sassenach. The app distinguishes a person based on the person's features and shape."

"I was afraid you were going to say that. Let's just hope the software they're using is crap or dated."

Jamie laughed, taking a step closer in her direction "Dinna fash. Sometimes media exposure can work to yer benefit."

Claire looked up and saw the amusement in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Weel, for one, Frank will surely leave ye alone now. He wouldnae want to jeopardise his career in case ye talk to the press. I'm presuming he'd be thinking, ye've been considerably unpredictable ever since ye jumped out of the church's window. Controlling people don't like unaccounted for surprises. And ye're likely to do something spontaneous."

"I guess you have a point ..." She sipped her drink and quickly changed the subject. "What happens now?" she asked, watching the elite and sports' celebrities rub shoulders together, exchange air-kisses and posed for the cameras with subdued interest.

Claire had never seen so much pretentiousness in one room, and she'd mingled often enough in Frank's circle to make that distinction. The need to impress was so palpable in the air when, in actual fact, almost every individual present was talented and gifted in their own way. It was too showy and flashy for an event that was supposed to be all about honouring sportsmanship and sports in general. The only thing that seemed genuine was the designer clothes they're wearing and their expensive perfumes wafting through the air. It seemed like the long tentacles of the world of celebrities have crept into the world of sports, blinding them with glitz and glamour. It was definitely not a scene she could get used to, and she felt, Jamie couldn't either no matter how much self-confidence he exuded and wanted the job.

"We're just waiting for Forbes," Jamie explained. "I told him I'd meet him here and he's supposed to update me on his talks with the network." 

"Forbes is your agent, right?"

"Aye. And speaking of the devil, he appears." Jamie gestured toward the tall, blonde and handsome man in a dark blue business suit, walking confidently through groups of celebrities. "Showtime," he whispered, shifting on his feet.

She downed her champagne in two mouthfuls and watched Forbes stopped and shook hands with Andy Murray, Scotland's professional tennis player. It was apparent Jamie's agent knew a lot of famous people and appeared comfortable around them as he greeted and addressed a few more.

"Jamie!" Forbes strode towards them in a way a famous person might. His smile Hollywoodesque as he shook Jamie's hand. He was younger than Claire thought, midway through his thirties and almost as tall as Jamie. "Sorry to keep you waiting," Forbes apologised. "Got held up in the office and then stuck in the traffic."

Jamie nodded. "Nae bother. We haven't been here for too long." He put an arm possessively across her shoulders and pulled her in. "Forbes, this is Claire, my girlfriend." Forbes took her hand and kissed it, smiling over it when she blushed. She felt Jamie stiffened, indicative of his lack of credence towards his agent. 

"Call me Gerald. Forbes is my surname. I'm a long time friend and confidante of Jamie. I'm surprised he hasn't introduced you sooner, but I've seen you in the papers. Have to say you caused quite a stir in Edinburgh, and the pictures that were published haven't done you any justice at all. You're even more beautiful in person." He dipped his head as if his next words were meant only for her ears. "Jamie's reputation precedes him. As we all know, he has a keen eye for beautiful women."

Claire swallowed and yanked her hand back. "A keen eye for beautiful women, you say?" She glanced up at Jamie before looking at Forbes squarely in the eyes. "Too bad it doesn't extend to his instinctual perception on human nature. Jamie is too trusting for his own good."

Taken off guard by her reply, Forbes stared at her for a few seconds, trying to gauge her meaning. When she didn't smile, he was left with no other choice but to give out a fake laugh that was so over-the-top and loud, a few people glanced their way. Jamie disguised his choke with a cough.

"That's sports agents for ye," Jamie remarked, squeezing her shoulder. "Cannae live with 'em ..."

"Can't sign a deal worth a damn without them," Forbes added, plastering his toothpaste advert smile back on his face and dragging his attention away from her. "Well, Jamie, shall we go somewhere private and talk business?"

"No. We can talk here," Jamie said smoothly, releasing Claire to grab more glasses of bubblies from a passing waiter. "It's simple, really," he started, passing a glass to her and then to Forbes. "It's either the network and I are on the same page or not. So which is it?"

The mega-watt smile on Forbes dimmed, as he cast a quick glance at Claire before looking back at Jamie again. "I reasoned with the directors, and they've invited both of you at their table for further talks."

"And?"

Forbes tugged at his tie. "They still want you to do a pap photo with Geneva tonight. And it would be wise if we told the press Claire is your PA in case her identity leaks out."

"I'll do a promotional photo with Geneva if that's what they want," Jamie said firmly. "As for Claire's identity, the press or some random fan has probably already figured it out who she is. The fans aren't stupid." 

"Fine, so what if they've figured it out," Forbes sighed, lifting a hand in the air. "Just release a statement saying Claire's working as your PA while she's out of a job or something. Or a close friend who came with you as your plus one for tonight. Or just say nothing at all, and I'll release a statement to the press for you."

Noticing the tension between the two men, Claire placed a hand on Jamie's arm. "Shall I leave you both alone. I'll be just right over there," Claire intervened. She knew how important this job was for Jamie, and she was more than willing to remain hidden from the public if that's what it took.

"No," Jamie replied, grabbing her hand, in case she did walk away. "Please stay." He gave her a pleading look. She couldn't say no, so she simply nodded hoping they would come to some kind of resolution. Satisfied she wasn't going anywhere, Jamie turned his attention once more back to Forbes. "You will not release any statement on my behalf, and I will not discuss my personal life to the press. I've never had, and I'm not about to start now. Anyone who's got eyes knows Claire is with me and hundreds of pictures have already been taken when we arrived. The only thing I am willing to talk to the press about is my work."

"Jamie, there won't be any work if the directors found out you are with the  Runaway Bride  and even more so if the word gets out," Forbes argued impatiently. "We can make those pictures disappear, and nobody has to know about Claire. And it's for her own good too."

Claire tried not to flinch, but both men noticed. Forbes gave her an apologetic look and Jamie squeezed her hand.

"The directors said they specifically wanted that?" Jamie asked in disbelief.

Forbes sighed. "They want an unattached Jamie."

"And yet, they want me to parade myself with Geneva? That doesn't make any sense at all," Jamie countered.

"Look there's something I need to tell you about Geneva. And you can't tell another soul ..." Forbes paused and eyed Claire.

Jamie noticed Forbe's hesitation. "Claire won't say a word. She's a doctor and has a duty of confidentiality to her patients. So this won't be any different," Jamie reassured his agent.

Forbes nodded and lowered his voice. "There are rumours within the IOC that Geneva used performance-enhancing drugs during the Commonwealth Games and Beijing World Championships and she may be consequently be stripped off her medals ..."

"And how is that my problem?" Jamie challenged.

"Well, this is where you come in. You know that Geneva's dad, William, is one of the directors of the network, right?" When Jamie nodded, Forbes resumed. "The IOC isn't the problem, and the majority of the committee can be bought, but it won't stop the rumours circulating. So daddy dearest wants to paint a nice picture of Geneva for the public by giving her a few stints on the sports network. They want you both to host the London World Championship during rugby off-season. Her exposure will unveil her to the public as a clean-living athlete, and so when the rumours grow its head, the public will dismiss it as mere gossip. And also, they want the public to perceive you both as a couple. There'll be no need for you to announce you both are. A few pap photos here and there and the fans will do the talking. You're the ideal person for the partnership with Geneva because well, you know ... you were well-known for your discipline in rugby. No drugs, no alcohol, five times best player of the year, Scotland's national treasure and all that shit. Get my drift?"

"And why me?" Jamie asked warily. "Surely, there are other candidates with the same background in sports as I have, a better reputation and could talk comfortably and eloquently in front of the camera. I can think of five on top of my head, and they're all living nearer to London."

Forbes shook his head as if he couldn't comprehend why Jamie still hadn't understood yet. "You come from an old family, Jamie. A family with a solid background, good reputation and the public is more forgiving with your past indiscretions compared to your peers. And that alone carries a lot of weight in William Dunsany's eyes."

Jamie gave a burst of short mirthless laughter. "And here I thought I was being considered for the job because they saw a potential in me." He shook his head in disbelief and slapped Forbes on the shoulder. "Sorry mate, thanks but no thanks."

"Jamie! We're talking about a million-pound contract here and a place in the network for two years. That's an incredible amount of money for someone who doesn't have experience in mass media. No one is asking you to break up with Claire. Just keep things between the two of you under wraps. That's not difficult, is it?"

"Aye, it is! Have ye lived under the watchful eye of the press? Claire will be living with me. How am I suppose to keep our relationship under wraps? The answer is no. I'm not putting Claire under that pressure."

"William Dunsany is desperate. Maybe I can arrange a better deal for you," Forbes offered.

Jamie arched an eyebrow. "Why is he desperate?"

"William Dunsany is about to be bestowed a knighthood by the Queen, and he can't afford any scandal or gossip tainting his family name. He thinks Geneva being linked to you would shift the focus away from the rumours."

"Sorry, Forbes. It's one thing piling this whole shite on me but ..."

Forbes raised both his hands and gestured to both of them. "Talk about it, the two of you. And I'll go and talk to Dunsany and get you a better deal. I'll give you both half an hour to decide." And then he turned and strode away before either of them could say a word.

Jamie took Claire's glass and set it on the nearby table and faced her. "Do ye want to talk about this, Sassenach?"

"I think we should," she whispered.

Without another word, Jamie took Claire by the elbow and led them to an empty conference room. Once alone and away from the crowd, they sat on a nearby table facing each other.

Claire spoke first. "Jamie, I totally get it. The money doesn't mean anything to you, and I know you love me, and I also know you're willing to walk away from all of this because of me, but ..."

"Sassenach ..."

"No, Jamie, hear me out first, please," she insisted, wringing her hands as she searched for the right words. "You're here because you want to be part of that sport you love so much and want to start your own rugby academy with the money you'll earn. I know we talked about this in the car before we got here, but I don't want to be the reason for giving up your dreams. I can't live with that. When two people love one another, they nurture and support each other. I want you to do this thing in London and build your academy."

He smiled and took her hands from across the table. "Sassenach, I appreciate what ye're saying but it doesnae matter. Besides, I get the feeling ye dinnae like London much and the whole palaver with the paparazzi, and I cannae do it on my own if ye decide to send me away. I'd miss ye terribly."

It was true what Jamie said. She hated London, but she'd also hate it if she didn't get to see him every day and see where their relationship go. Maybe this was a test and opportunities like this only come once in a lifetime. Of course, they could make their own opportunities, but more often than not they are sprung on you like a dare to test your skills, to see if you could take that leap of faith to make whatever it was a success. To continue to be dictated by fear, an excellent opportunity might slip away. Frank already took away so much by inspiring self-doubt in her, and she didn't want to be afraid anymore. She needed to take that leap first, for the sake of both of them. And although Claire didn't like the idea that William Dunsany could get a knighthood from her life-changing decision, Claire had a feeling Geneva was being manipulated by her father. She wanted to be beside Jamie to make sure it wouldn't happen to him and at the same time reach out to Geneva and help her.

Confident she made the right decision, she stood up, walked over to him and sat on his lap. Linking her arms together around Jamie's neck, she planted a kiss on his lips and smiled. "What if I said I want to come to London with you, would that change your mind?"

[lewishamledger]

A Lewisham legacy

WORDS BY EMMA FINAMORE;  PHOTO BY PHILIP DUNSMORE

A much-loved and respected former Labour councillor and mayor – and campaigner on many issues – passed away in September.

Gurbakhsh Garcha left his mark on Lewisham and the world at large in many ways. A prominent and active anti-racist and anti-fascist peace activist, he worked on both a small and large scale.

Locally he brought faith groups in south London together, set up youth clubs and campaigned to help schools, while simultaneously lobbying for global nuclear disarmament and working on books that bridged nations.

Growing up in a Sikh family in Punjab, India, he witnessed the horror of partition – the enforced splitting of India, creating Pakistan, as well as the dividing of Hindus and Muslims.

Last year Gurbakhsh spoke to the BBC in an interview about what he experienced, marking 70 years since partition. He described seeing families – including his own – split apart, as well as the struggle, violence and death that ensued.

“Your whole psyche changes when you are living through that sort of thing. I don’t think you are normal anymore having seen such horrid things,” he told the BBC. “You just slowly change and come to accept what is happening around you. My faith in humanity is shaken.”

Surviving this trauma, Gurbakhsh arrived in the UK in 1958, settling in south London and marrying his wife, Ruth – whom he described as “London born and brought up” – in 1962. Alongside his professional life in medical research (from which he retired in 1998) he became an active member of the Labour party, serving as a Lewisham councillor for 20 years from 1986 to 2006.

During this period Gurbakhsh played an active role in setting up an education directorate in Lewisham after the abolition of the Inner London Education Authority by Margaret Thatcher. He also served as deputy mayor and mayor of Lewisham from 1994-95 and then as a member of the cabinet before retiring from the council.

One of the many local groups Gurbakhsh worked with was the Lewisham Anti-Racist Action Group (LARAG). “Throughout much of my 26 years of campaigning against racism and fascism while living in Lewisham, Gurbakhsh was always a consistent, prominent part of the network of activists, councillors and local people who turned up, spoke up and contributed in whatever way they could to these vital campaigns,” said LARAG’s Richard von Abendorff.

“He always did this with his unique personal experience and perspective. He managed to combine this with many other related campaigning activities, whether local or national anti-war and anti-imperialist events, local community events, cross-faith committees or progressive campaigning in the Labour party.

“I will draw strength from remembering his energetic and inspiring contributions to progress, tolerance and understanding, justice and peace. I will certainly try to continue his work, learning from his respectful, gentle manner and diligence, while speaking the truth to power.”

Gurbakhsh channelled this energy into local religious efforts too, bringing together different groups in south London and chairing the Standing Advisory Council on Religious Education for 14 years.

He also worked on a book promoting interfaith relationships. Together & Different: Christians Engaging with People of Other Faiths was written by local campaigner Sarah Thorley and Malcolm Torry, with collaboration from Gurbakhsh. It tells the stories of a variety of community projects between members of Christian churches and people of other faiths. Like everything Gurbakhsh did, it strove to bridge divides and bring people together.

This striving spirit was also channelled into broader global issues: Gurbakhsh was secretary of the Lewisham branch of the United Nations Association, which organises events to raise awareness and interest in the work of the UN.

He was also part of the local Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) group, which works to “scrap nuclear weapons and create genuine security for future generations”.

Speaking of the group’s meeting in early October following Gurbakhsh’s death, Anne Schuman, of the CND Sydenham and Forest Hill branch, said: “It was a subdued gathering, the sun had set completely, and we all were feeling the loss of Gurbakhsh very much.

“The impression of a soft-spoken man, with white hair and beard, who turned up at so many different meetings and who spoke of many problems and possible solutions with fluency and passion, will live with us for a long time.

“I often complained that he spoke so softly he was hard to hear, and he would apologise and raise his voice for a few sentences. His natural temperament soon reasserted itself though, and the gentle but persuasive voice made itself known. Always very well informed, courteous and helpful, he will be very much missed by our group, as he always made a positive contribution to the discussion.

“A lot of people in Lewisham and beyond from very different backgrounds knew Gurbakhsh through his active involvement in many groups, from the CND, the United Nations Association and LARAG, from his time as a Crofton Park councillor and as Labour mayor of Lewisham.

“We remember him working with interfaith groups, his firm belief in internationalism, his pride in Lewisham as a diverse community and his unwavering commitment to human rights and world peace. He was a longstanding active member of our CND group and he continued to be involved at 83, despite creaky knees.

“His family – whom he adored and spoke of often – shared his beliefs. Ruth always encouraged him, although I’m sure she wished that he would occasionally say no, and was at many of our events providing fantastic jams and cakes for our annual plant fair to raise funds for the children of Chernobyl. Gurbakhsh made a huge contribution to many lives and will be sadly missed.”

Gurbakhsh’s compassion and efforts didn’t just extend to issues affecting mankind: he was also passionate about the environment and wildlife preservation, and was a supporter of English Heritage, the National Trust and the London Wildlife Trust.

In April this year he was still sharing campaigns via his social media accounts, touching on everything from school funding, violence and library privatisation to environmental issues.

Gurbakhsh’s wife Ruth said: “His contribution and the manner in which it was conveyed, through patience, persuasion and non-acrimonious, inclusive argument was reflected in the congregation of 300 who attended his memorial. As a family we know how seriously, sympathetically and unselfishly he took his role.”

His son Simon added: “It goes almost without saying that he was loved deeply by his wife and family. It was heartening to see and hear how much this love was reflected by those who worked alongside him, and even sometimes in opposition to him. It was the mark of this beautiful man.”

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 18 ~The Past, the Present and the Unknown~

She knows!  Jamie took one look at Claire and knew exactly what was going through her head. The moment he'd mentioned Geneva Dunsany's name, the air around them shifted into a slow-motion, catching every nuance of change in everyone's expression, particularly Claire's. The news from Forbes was the anticlimax to what should have been a perfect day, leaving a sharp taste in his mouth like a sour bomb had gone off in his guts and turning the whisky he'd drank into acid. The past always had a way of catching up, and it picked the wrong day of all days. This was his penance for the rest of his life, for all the one-night stands he'd had, and the cost could be Claire. But not if he could help it. Damn his past!

Geneva Dunsany was a name Jamie thought he'd never come across again. She was from another lifetime ago, and they'd first met at a London pub when her team won their first gold in rowing during a World Cup. He couldn't remember clearly the events of that night except that they'd chatted at the bar, had too much to drink, and somehow they'd ended up spending the night together in a hotel room. The next day, they'd parted amicably, and a picture of them was splashed across the papers. GOLDEN GIRL DUNSANY OF BRITISH ROWING SEEN HAND IN HAND ENTERING HOTEL WITH RUGBY BAD BOY FRASER.

Sports fans following their respective careers had been excited about the news, but nought had come out from the one-night affair. Their physical distance wouldn't have bode well for a relationship even if Jamie had been interested in one, especially between two dedicated elite athletes where focus and dedication to their craft were paramount. Soon the story was forgotten until Geneva got in touch with him through his agent.

When they'd met in Edinburgh to talk, Geneva dropped the bombshell and told him she was pregnant with his child. Jamie's sense of duty and responsibility immediately kicked in, and the only option he could think of was marriage. He may have been known for his playboy lifestyle, but one thing he never did was shirk from his obligations. Jamie took the news in the chin and asked Geneva to marry him, and she'd accepted. It was the right thing to do and what his parents would have expected of him. 

Although Jamie wanted their engagement to be on the quiet, the news of their upcoming secret nuptials still made it to the gossip columns, prompting Geneva's estranged sister, Isobel, to warn him that the child she was carrying was from another man. And sure enough, after confronting Geneva and demanding they both see the doctor, she admitted to the ruse with loads of tears, pleading and tantrum.

The wedding was cancelled in the end, and to his horror, Geneva had an abortion. She'd used the unborn child to trap him, and when she'd no more use for it, she terminated the pregnancy. It was cold and calculating, and whatever little respect he had left for the sportswoman, it was gone in an instant. 

The news of their engagement eventually died a natural death and was labelled as just another gossip. Still, parts of that story refused to die down. According to some self-proclaimed reliable sources, Geneva had been pregnant and was forced into abortion because Jamie had not wanted any part of it. Despite his irritation over the lies, he never attempted to address the rumours. What would've been the point, he thought. Nobody would've believed for one minute that womaniser, James Fraser was capable of doing the right thing.

Thinking about it now, Jamie knew being photographed with Geneva in one of the most important sports events would rouse gossip mongers to stir up old stories. Of course, the network had known that. They were pairing him with her for the sole purpose of increasing viewership and ratings because of their history. It was never about his know-how in rugby, nor his eloquence to discuss the game with an audience. The determining factor had always been how marketable he would be for the network company.

"Surely, they cannae make me do that or can they?" Jamie asked his agent over the phone.

"They can do whatever they like. It's their money." Forbes reasoned with mild exasperation. "Look, it's only for one night. Or maybe two ..."

"Two??" Jamie almost yelled. "What the fuck, Forbes. I finally have a girlfriend and now this? How do ye think all this palaver is going to look like to her and my family?"

"Listen, Jamie. Ditch the girl and think of your future. There's plenty more where she came from. You've never had problems parading yourself for a bit of PR before, so what's the fuss now? You and Geneva have a past, and by appearing together, it will generate publicity. All the network wants is for you to pull in more women audience. That's all. Competition is tough, and they know that women all over the country will love seeing your face up close on their TV screen. Do you think they're interested in rugby? Hell no! But don't worry, there'll still be real rugby fans who will tune in to your rugby analysis. And for such minimal trouble, you'll be getting a good contract. No! Allow me to correct that. A bloody great contract that could make you even richer. Think of the endorsements that will follow soon after once you're trending in social media. You will be able to set up that rugby academy you once told me about."

The rugby academy! That had been the dream before the accident forced him into early retirement. Jamie let out a hollow laugh. "Are you listening to yersel'?"

"Are you? What have you done to the old Jamie??"

"I like the new me," Jamie shot. "Ye said once that the network is all about clean image and representing those ideal. Now they want to parade me with someone who almost tricked me into marriage? It's not making any sense ..."

"But those stories about you and her were never confirmed. In their eyes, Geneva is wholesome and good for your image."

"Forbes," Jamie said in a low warning voice. "Do something about this. All I'm interested in is rugby. Fuck the endorsements and fuck Geneva. And next time you tell me to ditch my lass, ye'll be smiling on the other side of yer face."

Forbes sighed. "Listen. You're not just going to be a regular presenter during rugby games, but they're also dedicating a weekly rugby show with you as a host. It's a huge gamble taking you on to run the whole thing, even though they've seen you talk on live TV and liked what they saw. I'm quite sure they have faith in you to draw in the audience without having to go through the unnecessary superfluities. But they want their arses covered as you're getting a lot of money out of this; hence Geneva."

"And I have faith in you that you'll do whatever ye can to convince them that Geneva is not the answer ...as, like them, I want my arse covered too." And without giving his agent a chance to reply, Jamie switched off the phone.

How the bloody hell am I going to explain this to Claire if the network won't budge?  Jamie got angrier, the more he thought of Geneva. When Isobel had confided that her sister was manipulative, he had a sneaking suspicion that Geneva had started the rumour about his desertion during her pregnancy. Apparently, she had also been responsible for the break-up of Isobel's marriage after she had a short-lived affair, and he wouldn't put it passed her to stir up some more trouble.

"Hey, at least, your date is in shipshape," Claire said, drawing his attention to her once more. 

He watched her down his whisky, taking steps in her direction and grasping her elbow. When she winced, and her face paled, he realised that his fingers were digging deep into her skin, and she'd thought his anger was directed at her. He let go and took deep calming breaths. He was aware the whole family and Joe were staring at them, but he didn't care. The only person he was concerned about was Claire. "Sassenach, can we talk? Please?" he begged, his voice sounding rusty in his ears.

The uncertainty in her expression gutted him. "Jamie, you don't need to explain. I understand. Go. Go with Geneva to the award's night and do what you need to do. This is important to you." And then she whispered just for his ears. "We both know, this thing between us isn't going to last anyway."

Alarm bells started to go off, and he didn't like the tone of resignation in her voice. He shook his head. "No! I want ye there at the award's night, beside me. Please let's talk about this privately. What ye think ye know of Geneva, isn't true. Let me explain." 

"But why? Why do you want me there? You'll just risk annoying your future bosses and for what?" she said in a low voice.

Jamie combed a hand through his hair, unsure how to navigate the situation. Looking at the stubborn jut of her chin, Claire was obviously not going to go willingly with him to talk. Fortunately, his family sensed his predicament and got up and left. Once they were alone, he led Claire to a seat and knelt in front of her. "I want ye there because ye're important to me." When she remained silent, his heart constricted. He wanted to erase the sadness in her eyes and be the reason for her smile. "A-and I like the way ye look at me when I've done something good. Ye make me feel everything is right with the world when we're together. Am I making any sense?"

Her eyes went soft. "Jamie, but you are good, and you need to believe that. It's just that ..." She licked her lips and clasped her hands on her lap. "...we need to get real about this. If I came to the awards, I'd just be an added pressure, and that's the last thing you need. And I'm beginning to see this relationship is not a good idea at all. Look at you. You look so torn, and I don't want to be the cause of that."

"W-what? What are ye trying to say? That's no' the case at all." A sudden pain pierced through his heart, taking his breath away. "Are ye saying this is over? We haven't even begun, Sassenach."

"Look at it this way, Jamie ... I'm making this easy for you. Let's end this before everything turns ugly."

"No, no. That's not true."  Christ, this can't be happening.  The panic that gripped him felt like one massive snowball, gaining momentum and destroying everything in its path. He grabbed hold of shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Sassenach, when I asked ye to be with me, I never intended to hide ye from the world. So please, don't do this. I'm a better person because of ye."

Watching her close her eyes and roll her lips inward, he felt like his life hung on a balance, kneeling before her with his head on the block. He braced himself as if waiting for the axe to fall, hoping it would be painless and swift. He was just beginning to see the light after a long depression and was about to get a job that would keep him in the world of rugby, but somehow, his progress suddenly meant nothing if Claire decided to walk away. 

When she finally looked at him, he held his breath. Her beautiful amber eyes were bright and full of questions. "Jamie, do you want me there because you're trying to avoid Geneva and I'm just a means to keep her away from you?" she asked softly.

"No! Geneva never even crossed my mind when I asked ye to come with me to the awards. I asked ye to be my date because ye're my lass, that's the top and bottom of it." He took her hand in his and kissed her fingers, watching her closely with hooded eyes.

"B-but ..." She hesitated and frowned.

"But what?" he urged gently. "Ye can ask me anything, and I will tell ye the truth."

She took a deep breath. "Is it true you got Geneva pregnant and made her terminate the pregnancy?" 

"No," he said with conviction, squeezing her hands with both of his and looking directly into her eyes. "She was pregnant, but I wasnae the father. A lot of the articles written about me is untrue and twisted, and that's one of them. I wish I could stop the lies, Sassenach but, unfortunately, I have nae control over what people say, presume or write." He swallowed the shame and guilt of his past and soldiered on to give Claire the whole truth. "But I did sleep with her. Once. And it was the biggest mistake of my life. Geneva is a liar, and she would use deceit to get her own way." 

He revealed Geneva's underhandedness and her attempt to trick him into marriage, not sparing out any details no matter how difficult it was to admit the ugly part of the lifestyle he once led. Claire listened intently, probably searching his face for deception, but to his surprise, there was only understanding in her eyes and no judgement of his character whatsoever. 

When Jamie finally finished telling her the story, he felt lighter and emotionally exhausted, as if he'd just confessed a lifetime of sins and he'd been absolved by a priest. "That's the truth, Sassenach and I swear, I would never lie to ye," he said in the end.  

Her hand reached out to touch his face. "I believe you," she whispered. "I've never doubted your words. I only wanted to understand."

A ray of hope shimmered in the horizon as Jamie allowed his head to fall on her lap in relief, his arms going around her waist to pull her closer. "Thank Christ! I ken I've messed up a lot in my life, but I dinnae want to mess this ...us up. Please say ye'll come with me to Glasgow. Dinnae tell me we're over."

"I don't want us to be over too, Jamie ..." She ran her fingers through his scalp, making him shudder with need and desperation. "But if you go against the wishes of the network and show up with me at the award's, you might never get the job. And if you do get the job and we remain together, there will be other instances like this wherein you have to make difficult choices for the sake of PR. And I'll hate myself every time you choose me because it would mean I'm taking something that means the world to you away. Not to mention the intrusion I'd be subjecting myself to. It's too much of a hassle for a relationship that has an expiration date, Jamie, and one day, you'll resent me for the choices you made if ever your career with the network doesn't pan out."

He raised his head from her lap and cupped her face with his hands. "No, Sassenach. I can never resent ye for anything," he said softly. "Just give us a chance to see where this goes. Please."

Her cheeks were flushed from the summer heat, and her eyes glistened. He battled the urge to gather her in his arms and sink his face in whatever part of her was closest, but they needed to talk. He knew she suffered enough heartaches to last a lifetime, from the time she was orphaned to the abusive hands of her ex-fiance. And yet here she was, courageous, choosing to keep moving forward, instead of living in the past, and she was daring him to do the same.

She'd brought him out of the dark and challenged him at every turn, making him break the many rules he'd made for himself. When he'd debated in his head, he was undeserving of her, her kisses and touch told him otherwise. And every time she looked at him, she made him feel like more of a man than he ever had in his life, and not a piece of meat, to be passed around and prodded for someone's entertainment. So much so, he'd forgotten to disguise those ever-present vulnerabilities and laid them bare for her to see. He felt lighter, stronger, and a better version of himself. 

Although his passion for rugby had landed him numerous opportunities to make a name for himself and earn ridiculous amounts of money, he knew once the network had milked him for all he's worth, they'd spit him out faster than he can say his full name.

Claire was a rare gift, put into his path, and he knew he would never come across someone like her again. But she was pointing out reasons to end this relationship, and it was astonishing how much it was hurting him. It was like as if life was slowly being sucked out of his system, and there was nothing he could do about it. Why the hell have I put a time limit to this relationship then?  If he didn't sober up fast enough, she would meet someone, and by the time he made up his mind, she'd be lost to him. Forever. He didn't want to be anyone's entertainment anymore. Instead, he wanted to bask in Claire's light, and to love her and worship her with everything he had in him.

The sudden realisation hit Jamie like a sledgehammer, making his heart disperse into million pieces before assembling back together and settling into maddeningly accelerated beats. I love her. Christ, I love her. The newfound feelings felt outside of his control, a flame that fed itself, and had no way of extinguishing. 

"Jaime?? Are you alright?" 

"Huh?" He looked at her, not entirely understanding what she was saying. 

"Your pulse. I can see your pulse beating rapidly, and your face looks like you've seen a ghost. Do you have low blood pressure?"

"W-what?" He realised he was still holding her face, and she was staring at the side of her neck. "N-no pressure. No pressure at all."

Claire abruptly stood up, pulling him along to his feet. "Jesus, Jamie! You're not making any sense. Look at me."

He looked at her, as a gust of summer wind blew a strand of hair across her mouth. Mo Nighean Donn, so beautiful.  He tucked the wayward tendril behind her ear, and then he kissed her, taking the meeting of their mouths deep until she gasped into his lips. "There's something I need to tell ye ..." He ran his fingers along the curve of her shoulder, pressing a thumb to the side of her neck and massaging.  Not the time, lad! Start small even if it feels like you're about to burst wide open.

"You're saying?" she whispered.

Jamie's phone rang before he could say anything, making him utter a vicious profanity under his breath. He looked at the screen, but the number wasn't from his contact list. "I need to take this ...it could be the director from the network," he apologised, squeezing her hand. "Please don't go."

When Claire nodded, he answered the phone, walking a few feet away from her.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jamie! Long time no chat!" a familiar voice answered.

"Who's this?"

"I heard you were sulking because you didn't want to take me as your date this Friday," a voice purred in his ears. "What's wrong? Don't you want to catch up for old time's sake?

"Geneva!" Realising the error he just made, he lowered his voice and hoped Claire didn't hear. He didn't dare turn, afraid of what he might see on her face. "How'd ye get this number?" he seethed.  Forbes!!

"Oh! Daddy dearest gave it to me."

Jamie was confused. "What? How?"

"Oops! You didn't know?" she chirped. "Daddy is one of the directors of the UKSC network."

His stomach hollowed and felt the colour drain from his face. Claire would definitely diagnose him with low blood pressure now. He almost laughed at the irony of his situation, tamping down the mounting anger, more for Claire's sake than Geneva's. "Weel, I supposed I shall see ye and yer daddy dearest on Friday."

"Can't wait!"

 "I'll be bringing my girlfriend with me."

Geneva cackled. "Girlfriend? Who is the flavour of the month? Or should I say, the flavour of the week?"

He had enough. Damn bitch.

Unable to put up with her taunts any longer, he switched off his phone and blocked the number. Bloody nuisance!  The network talk was beginning to feel like a thorn to his side that wouldn't shift, but he pushed that worry aside to attend to more pressing matters at hand. Claire!

But when he turned around to look at the spot where he left her, she was already gone. Fuck!

"Sassenach?" He shouted, jogging toward the house, praying she had only disappeared to use the bathroom. But deep down he knew, she'd taken the opportunity to get as far away from him as possible.