#ch: brian randall fraser

[dunbonnets]

Jamie and Claire + Brian and Moira Parallels

reading link | edited by dunbonnets | july 2023

[ladyviolethummingbird]

The Gloaming - Chapter 6 preview 🏰

Ch 6: Madame Beauchamp

Feeling at a loose end after supper that evening Jamie made his way to the library. As Joe had promised, the library at Wolverton Hall was indeed an extensive one and having finished re-reading his favourite book Robinson Crusoe, Jamie was looking for something new to discover. Access to reading materials at the workhouse had been quite limited (even more so at the blacksmith’s) and he relished being able to wander the shelves and choose from vast numbers of books on a myriad of different topics. He ran a finger along the leather-bound spines as he considered his options before pulling out Candide by Voltaire and began thumbing through.

“I didn’t know you spoke French, Mr Fraser?”

The tips of his ears pinking, Jamie whirled around to see Lady Randall standing not two feet away. If she was annoyed to find someone interrupting the solitude of her library she didn’t show it. In fact, she looked decidedly pleased to see him. Eyes sparkling in the lamplight, she motioned to the book in his hands with a smile.

“I confess my French isn’t much. I’ve been trying to teach myself but when one has to stop every fourth word to look it up its meaning in the dictionary I’m afraid it’s rather slow going”

Jamie was silent a moment, unused to this convivial tone from her. It was completely unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.

“My father taught me, I think he’d planned for me to attend university in France one day”

“Your father was French?”

With a tone of of mock-outrage at the suggestion, Jamie explained that his father Brian had been Scots through-and-through but that he - like Jamie, was something of a polyglot. In addition to French and English, they also spoke Gàidhlig in his childhood home.

“Well I shall know who to come to next time I find a passage en français I can’t make heads nor tails of then”

She smiled again, revealing straight white teeth. As he took her in, Jamie swallowed, trying not to let his surprise show too much. Gone was the closed-off stance of their first meeting, replaced with a welcoming expression that he suddenly realised he’d been craving for weeks. Dare he push his luck and attempt to continue their conversation? Reasoning he might not get this chance again, he decided to press on.

Catch up on chapters 1-5 here

[bee-kathony]

The Oath | Ch. 17 “History” 

a/n: thank you all for liking, reblogging and commenting on the last chapter! thank you so much @lcbeauchampoftarth for being my beta and for all the questions she kindly answered! hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think will happen! xx

Arc I | Ch. 16

December 7th, 2019

Ned Gowan’s office was located in old town Edinburgh near where Claire worked at the hospital. Jenny had sent Jamie his details yesterday, and thankfully, Ned had time to meet with them today. Jenny had also agreed to stay with Madeline for the day while they figured out what to do next.

Claire clocked out for her lunch break, wrapping her new tartan scarf that Jamie had bought her for her birthday around her neck. The air was crisp, with that cold bite that comes with winter in Scotland. Jamie was meeting her at Ned’s office and he had just pulled up when Claire crossed the street.

“Hello my love,” Claire smiled and stood on her toes to kiss him as he closed the car door. “It’s been too long since I’ve last kissed you.”

“Ye mean four hours?” Jamie chuckled and then kissed her again, his lips lingering after. “Any time at all is too long, Sassenach.”

“I suppose we’d better get in there, I only have 40 minutes left of my lunch break,” Claire sighed and took his hand, both walking towards the entrance of the building. Inside, it was nicely decorated — smaller than she thought, but at least the place wasn’t falling apart.

“Ned Gowan is your family’s lawyer?” Claire asked as Jamie checked in with the receptionist.

“Aye,” he nodded. “He helped my parents when my Mam’s side of the family was furious with their marriage.” Jamie led her over to a small couch in the corner while they waited. “My Mam and Da ran away together, ye ken, and got marrit. My uncles Dougal and Colum — both passed away, bless their souls, well… they didna like my Da, especially because he was a Fraser.”

“Well what’s wrong with being a Fraser?” Claire asked, rather intrigued. “Is there something I should know before I marry you, Jamie?” She poked him lightly in the ribs.

“Fraser’s are verra stubborn,” he laughed. “But ye already knew as much.” A glint of mischief shined in his eyes and Claire could imagine a troublesome young Jamie, refusing to eat his vegetables or take a bath. “Nah, there’s nothin’ wrong wi’ bein’ a Fraser, Sassenach. Tis just that for hundreds of years there was a distrust between Clan MacKenzie, which is my Mam’s family, and the Frasers.”

Claire loved listening to Jamie tell stories, especially about his past. She found that whenever he talked, she was almost enchanted — he was a natural born storyteller and she hung on every word.

“So ye can imagine my uncles’ displeasure when they find out that their lovely sister, Ellen, has run away wi’ a Fraser! ‘Black Brian’ they called him, for his silky jet black hair.” He raised his brows, touching his own auburn locks. “It sounds a bit old fashioned, clan rivalries and such, but the MacKenzies are nothin’ if no loyal to their history.”

“What did they try and do? Your parents ran away and got married, surely they didn’t have any other option but to accept it,” Claire said.

“Ahh,” Jamie grinned. “That’s where Ned comes in. Colum tried to track down my Mam and Da, but they’d gone into hiding after the marriage. It was Dougal that found them eventually, back in Broch Mordha, already starting to make a home for themselves. He’d brought Ned wi’ him to try and persuade my parents to annul the marriage. Or perhaps try and prove the marriage was false,” Jamie recalled.

“But when Dougal walked inside and saw my Mam, nearly five months pregnant, there was no’ much to be done. My father presented him wi’ their marriage certificate, and Ned confirmed twas legitimate.” He chuckled then, remembering something as if he’d actually been present and not just a thought in his parents’ minds. “My Da said that Dougal just looked at Ned and called him a bastard, saying that he was supposed to be on the MacKenzie side of things!”

“Ned wouldn’t lie, you mean? He wouldn’t try and force your parents to separate?” Claire ran her fingers slowly over Jamie’s palm, smoothing them over the lines of his hand.

“No, he wouldna. He said he could never break apart true love,” Jamie smiled down at her. “He’s a bit of a romantic. Ever since then, he’s helped our family wi’ small legal matters. Twas very helpful wi’ the whisky business and what kind of permits we needed and such.”

Claire took a deep breath, absorbing all of this new information. “Well, I’m very much looking forward to meeting this infamous Ned.”

Not a minute later, the man himself walked out into the lobby.

“Dear Jamie!” He embraced Jamie, a good foot shorter than him, his head barely reaching Jamie’s chest. “How have you been, lad? Been a long time…”

“Too long, Ned,” Jamie smiled, patting the man’s shoulder, and then turned to Claire. “I’d like ye to meet my fiancé, Claire Beauchamp.”

Bowing his head slightly, Ned reached for her hand, kissing it softly. “Tis a pleasure to meet you, Claire Beauchamp. I’ve known the Frasers for many years, yer in good company!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she smiled. Ned Gowan was a short man with grey hair and round glasses perched on his nose. She trusted him immediately, hoping that he would be able to help them with the matter at hand.

“Let’s go into my office, shall we?” He turned back and welcomed them into his office with tall floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books, a fireplace on the wall opposite them, and a large mahogany desk in the center of the room.

“Now,” Ned said, sitting down in a brown leather chair behind his desk. “Jamie didna tell me just exactly what ye needed my advice on. Marriage advice?” Claire saw him glance at their clasped hands where Claire’s engagement ring rested on her finger.

“No,” Jamie squeezed her hand. “We’re settled on that front, wi’ luck the weddin’ will be in the summer.”

Claire smiled at him and then let go of his hand to reach into her bag, pulling out the envelope with the paternity test in it. “We’ve come to ask about a delicate matter… one involving our child.”

“A child?” Ned looked surprised, but kept his expression in check. “Let me see how I can help, lass.”

“Our daughter, Madeline… well, she has two possible fathers. Jamie, of course, and then my ex, Frank Randall. We only just got the results of the paternity test yesterday,” Claire said as she slid the paper across his desk. “It says that Frank is her father, but we just know it can’t be possible.”

“She has hair as red as mine,” Jamie smiled and pulled out his phone, pressing the side button to show a picture of the three of them on his lockscreen.

“I dare say.” Ned moved his glasses on his nose and leaned in. “She’s the spittin’ image of ye, Jamie.”

“Which is exactly why we think that Frank has somehow messed with the results, or maybe the lab made a mistake.” Claire twisted her hands in her lap, her stomach in knots.

Ned glanced at the results, reading over all the information carefully. Jamie’s fingers tapped nervously against his thighs, waiting to hear what actions they should take.

“Well, my first bit of advice would be to find another lab and have only Jamie take a paternity test.” Ned slid the paper back to Claire and she put it back in her bag. “That will tell you for certain whether or not the results have been tampered with.”

“And if the results say that Jamie is Madeline’s father?”

“Then ye come back to see me and we’ll figure out the next move. Legal action would be required on either this Hawkins Laboratory or on your ex, Mr. Randall. But I don’t want to put anything into motion before we know the results from Jamie’s solo test.”

“Of course,” Jamie nodded, grabbing Claire’s hand again. “We should be able to get that done sometime this week. I dinna want to take this to court, but if it means proving that Madeline is in fact my daughter, so be it.”

The three of them rose, nothing further left to discuss. “Thank ye, Ned. It means a lot that ye would be the one to help us wi’ this.” Jamie shook his hand tightly and Claire laughed a little when she saw Ned flexing his hand after.

“Tis not a problem, Jamie. I’ll always help a Fraser in their time of need,” he smiled, and then they all said goodbye. Once Claire and Jamie returned to the street, she took a deep breath and leaned her head against his chest.

“That went well. As well as could be expected,” she said.

“Ye ken that I love Madeline,” Jamie looked down at her. “No matter if she is Randall’s blood and no’ mine… I love her wi’ all my heart, Sassenach. No test result can ever take that away.” He met her lips, kissing her slowly.

“I know that, Jamie. I also know how much it would mean to you if she was your blood, stubborn Fraser and all,” she grinned. “I feel good about this. Once we get the test done and get the results, I’ll feel even better.”

“Aye.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “So will I. I’ll research a few labs when I get back to the office and let ye know what I find when I get home.”

“Sounds good,” Claire kissed him again. “I’ll see you at home tonight, then.”

Jamie climbed into his car to head back to work while Claire made the short walk back to the hospital, where a store-bought salad was waiting for her in the fridge.

++++++

As she walked into the hospital, Claire walked past the front desk, smiling at her friend Liesel. She waved her over, holding up a note.

“While you were out, a gentleman called for you, said he used to be a patient of yours,” the woman said and handed her a sticky note with a number to call on it.

“Did he give a name?” Claire asked, wondering why any patient of hers would call.

“No, but he was British. He said that he had a question about some kind of operation you helped perform,” Liesel shrugged. “Sounded a bit weird, but I told him I’d give you the message.”

“Hmm, well thank you, Liesel. I’ll call him later.” Claire shoved the note into her purse and walked down the hall and into the staff lounge. With only ten minutes remaining of her lunch break, Claire scarfed down her salad and reminded herself to call this mysterious patient on her way home from work.

The only thing standing in her way from going home to Jamie and Madeline was a simple cholecystectomy — a gallbladder removal. In surgery, Claire’s mind was blank, only focusing on the task before her. There was no Frank or paternity tests or potential lawsuits. Only the patient before her and the scalpel in her hand.

Two and a half hours later, Claire was changing from her scrubs to her blue jeans and white t-shirt. The next time she would have to go into work would be after the holidays thanks to her new baby keeping her occupied.

As Claire started her car, she remembered she needed to call back that patient that Liesel had mentioned. Surely, it would be just a simple call she could handle while driving home. Claire pulled out her phone and retrieved the sticky note from her bag, punching in the numbers. It rang four times before someone picked up on the other end.

“Hello, this is Dr. Beauchamp, I’m returning a call that was left for me at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary.”

“Claire,” uttered from a voice that chilled her to the core. A voice she hadn’t been expecting to hear on the other end.

“Frank.”

Her knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. Thankfully she hadn’t started driving yet, or she might have just run off the road at the sound of his voice. “Why are you leaving messages for me at my work?”

“I didn’t have many options now did I, Claire? I knew you wouldn’t answer if I were to call your phone, so the hospital was the only option,” he said.

“What is this about?” She already knew what this was about, but was hoping he had called to chat about something else.

“I received a rather interesting letter in the mail yesterday from Hawkins Laboratory. I assume that you did as well…”

“Yes, what of it?”

“The results were stated very clearly, Claire,” Frank sighed on the other end, as if he was annoyed. “I am that child’s father. I don’t want to take this to court, I’m hoping we can resolve the matter of custody between ourselves.”

“Custody?!” Claire snapped. “You’ve lost your mind if you think I would ever let you get any kind of custody, full or joint, of my daughter.”

“I have rights as her father and you know it,” Frank replied. “You can go and play house all you want with that Scottish bastard, but at the end of the day, it’s not quite as picturesque as you’d like it to be.”

“Shut your damn mouth, Frank,” Claire rolled her eyes. “I don’t want you to call me ever again, especially not at work. The next time I’ll speak to you will be with a lawyer present, now goodbye!”

Claire hung up and tossed her phone down onto the passenger seat. Her heart had started racing dangerously the moment he said her name, sending a chill down her spine. Her worst fears were all coming true and it seemed there was nothing she could do.

Closing her eyes, Claire punched the steering wheel and let out a scream — a sound she didn’t even know she had in her.

When she opened her eyes, she noticed that two people standing on the sidewalk near the car were staring at her and she waved her hand at them. “Sorry,” she softly muttered, and they kept walking, probably wondering who this crazy woman was.

“Christ, Beauchamp, keep it together.” She took a deep breath and put the car in drive.

++++++

Jamie was in the kitchen, Madeline swaddled to his chest in her sling, while he made dinner. Claire simply stood in the doorway when she got home, watching the two of them. It filled her heart with contentment to see them both, knowing that they were all hers. Jamie caught her eye and grinned, softly singing off-tune to Madeline.

“What’s on the menu, Chef Jamie?”

“Burgers!” He flipped a patty. “And I ken I shouldna have Mads so close to the stove in case the grease pops up, but she was cryin’ in her crib and the meat was about to burn…” he reasoned with her.

“It’s alright, she seems to be enjoying her sous chef duties,” Claire laughed and kissed her daughter on the head. As Jamie finished making their dinner, Claire unraveled her scarf from around her neck, shedding her winter layers on their bed. She would have to tell Jamie that Frank called, and he would rightfully, be furious.

Thankfully, Claire was still partially on maternity leave — giving her plenty of time now with Madeline. Also, this meant she could give all her attention to dealing with the paternity results.

Claire changed into comfier clothes, sliding one of Jamie’s old sweatshirts over her head before joining him back in the kitchen. He was just sliding their burgers onto plates as she took a seat at the table. Madeline was still strapped to his chest with no signs of wanting to leave, though she would need to be fed soon.

“How was the rest of yer day, Sassenach?”

Claire picked up a knife to slice her burger in half and then sighed. “Frank called me,” she spat out and then held up her finger in front of Jamie before he could respond. “He called me at work and posed as a former patient because he knew I wouldn’t answer my phone for him.”

“What does he want?” Jamie asked, his burger in midair.

“What do you think he wants?” Claire’s eyes landed on Madeline. “He got the results in the mail yesterday, same as us. He wants her… at least, he wants joint custody.”

“Joint— No. No, Sassenach. He wasna there for ye during the entire pregnancy, he cheated on ye and now all of a sudden he wants some kind of claim on her?” Jamie scoffed and took a huge bite of his burger, the juices dripping down his hand.

“Thanks for reminding me of all that,” Claire raised her brows and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Jamie said with a mouthful of food and swallowed. “Claire, I’m sorry, I—“

“I know what you meant,” she reassured him,  one side of Claire’s mouth turned up in understanding. “But… if he is her father then he has the right to ask for custody. Of course, this is where we will need Ned’s advice. Oh! Also, did you find another lab to take the test?”

Jamie wiped his mouth with a napkin, “Aye. I did, I meant to tell ye when ye walked in, but now’s a good time as any. It’s called Edinburgh DNA Centre and it’s only a short distance from where I work.”

“Great,” Claire nodded, mentally checking that off her list. “We’ll need to do that as soon as possible. I’m sure Frank will want to move forward with any kind of custody agreements.”

Jamie made a grumbling noise, rolling his eyes. “I wish that bastard would just leave us alone.”

“Trust me,” Claire said. “I would be happy to never see his smug bloody face again.”

They finished their meal, and Claire took Madeline from Jamie to feed her. She was hungry and latched on quickly, her greedy little hands tugging on Claire’s curls.

“I’m thinking about calling Hawkins Lab,” she said softly, peering down at Madeline.

“Why?” Jamie said from the kitchen as he cleaned up the dishes. “They surely wouldn’t tell ye if they’d tampered wi’ the results.”

“I just want to know who handled our files is all,” she shrugged. “I also have a weird feeling about the name Hawkins… it sounds strangely familiar.”

“How so, Sassenach?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I swear I’ve heard that name mentioned to me several times though,” she said. “I’ll do that tomorrow probably.”

“I won’t stop ye, a nighean,” Jamie said, and then a few minutes later he joined her on the couch, sliding his arm around her shoulder. “I’ll call the DNA Centre tomorrow, book an appointment. It doesna feel like only yesterday we got the results.”

“I know,” Claire cupped Madeline’s head. “I just hope this is all resolved before Madeline’s first Christmas.”

“Me too, Sassenach.” Jamie kissed her temple. “Let’s just pray for a Christmas miracle then, aye?”

“Aye,” Claire grinned and leaned her head against his shoulder and they both watched their daughter, small and precious, their reason for living and for fighting to get the truth.

Chapter 18: I Promise To...

[thebrochtuarachs]

Arranged: Chapter 2

Modern AU. Set in 2018. Where Claire and Jamie are arranged to be married.

CH: 1

AO3

CHAPTER 2: The Explanation

Claire

“Papa, Mama, can I talk to you in private.” Claire said with a dead tone as she motioned towards the living room, hoping it was far enough to quiet her impending outburst.

“Excuse us” Henry said as all three stood up, set down their wine glasses and left the Frasers in the dining room to surely have a discussion of their own. When Claire locked the door behind them, she turned to her parents and gave them the sternest look she could muster in her life.

“You can’t possibly think that I would agree to this…arrangement?! Who do you think you are to marry me off to some guy? – “

“Darling, I don’t think Jamie is some guy - “ Henry retorted.

“I am speaking and you can talk when I am finished!” Claire huffed back angrily. “This is not the bloody 18th century! I am not some type of property you can buy and sell to whoever asked first? I am my own person, with my own ideas, with my own intelligence and I can bloody well find a fine, young and remarkable man, who I will CHOOSE to spend the rest of my life with, perfect well.” Claire was pacing back and forth the room, contemplating the next sentences she’ll say.

“Did you not ask me once if I have suitors of my own? Because let me tell you, I’ve had tons of them since I was in high school! I can have any man I want and have them grasping from the palm of my hand!” Claire continued her rambunctious speech. This was not like her but this inner fury inside her made her such.

“Also, did you have to announce it during the dinner? Why not just tell me there was THIS plan before? Maybe I could’ve refused then rather than now - not like this because I swear I am not slightly embarrassed to make a fucking scene” Claire huffed then stopped pacing. She walked closer to her parents, stood in front of them and looked them straight in the eyes. “I will not marry James Fraser, in any way, shape or form. Do you hear me? If you so much as to trick me into it, I will leave this place and you’ll never hear from me ever again” Claire knew it was a tad overboard but she was really angry.

Her parents looked at each other, having a silent conversation of their own Claire’s eyes softened a bit and darted to and from her mother and father, willing them to give her a viable explanation. “Mama, Papa, why are you doing this? What is going on?” Her parents just continued to look at each other and then to her then back to each other.

“Tell me, god damn it!!!

“It’ll be good for the business and the company” her father blurted out.

“So, that’s it?! This arranged marriage is a business merger?? Can you not do it without me getting hitched?!”

“We need to protect our assets and this is the best way how – this is for your own good and the family’s as well” Henry explained defiantly.

“Also, we like him and we want him for you” her mother tried back.

“That is not your choice to make! This is my life!” Claire hated that she sounded like a whiny teenager but she needed to stand her ground if there is a way of getting out of this crazy idea. “I worked so hard, to study, to be a woman of my choosing – ”

“Protecting and continuing the family legacy is what we’ve instilled in you since you were young. This is just stepping into that role.” Her father said steadily. This standoff is shifting its balance and its not in Claire’s favor.

“I know very well the role I have in this family and I take that very seriously. Uncle Lamb’s legacy means the world to me too.”

“Then this arrangement should be of no problem to you.” Henry said sternly. “And Jamie is a fine, young man, a close friend of the family’s, we approve of him – it is the perfect situation for all of us.”

Claire was dumbfounded by what her father just said. She couldn’t think and just barely managed to move from where she stood. When the words finally sink in, she shook her head then composed herself then continued to battle her parents on.

-

Jamie

“I suppose ye have questions” Brian started, filling the silence that was occupied by the ticking of the clock.

“Ye think?” Jamie snorted back. “I just come back after a six-month trip, suddenly invited to a dinner with my family and friends, and then this announcement?”

Brian looked at Ellen and with her nod, he took a deep breath before speaking.

“Lad, we kent why you suddenly went on this wee trip and it was not just to find some new authors. It’s to prove yourself successful in your own way not for us but for Claire.”

Jamie flinched at his parents. Nobody knew that. Nobody knew he liked Claire. Nobody knew she was the reason he left. Nobody knew that he was trying to prove something. Nobody. He told no one and yet, his parents have known all along.

With his shocked look, her mother continued the story. “Janet saw you try to approach Claire in uni but when you saw him with, what’s his name, oh, Frank Randall, a PhD Student, accomplished man, we knew you had to try and at least make yourself a contender for her heart.” Ellen explained to his gaping son. “You wanted to be your own man, make and do something that is yours.”

“We’ve always known you liked Claire growing up and we also knew you were too respectful of her dreams to try and ruin it” Brian chimed back in.

“Then why are you doing this now?” Jamie said, hopelessly embarrassed that he even tried to keep it a secret.

“Ye ken the Randalls, aye?” Brian stressed. “Claire doesn’t know that her parents know that she and Frank been secretly seeing each other this past month. Naturally, they did some digging and background check, and found a lot of red flags in their family as well as in Frank. Aside from his family having shady business dealings, we believe he’s wooing her to get access to her ancestor’s, Lambert Beauchamp’s, original notebooks, records, books, etc. for his dissertation. It will not be good for her nor to anyone. We need to protect her.” His father insisted.

“Why not just tell Claire all these?” Jamie fired back. True, he wanted Claire but not like this. He did not work hard just to be handed something he didn’t earn. He was a better man than that and his parents must know that.

“Do you think she’ll approve to know that her parents, technically, broke a lot of privacy protocols to know what they know? No. She’ll be more livid and she’ll run straight to Frank just to prove a point. You know how stubborn she can be?” Jamie knew and he wouldn’t be surprised if Claire went off and ran away with him, maybe, even marry him, just out of her spite. Claire was a careful lass when it comes to her dreams but was impulsive when someone tries to dictate her life.

“And this is a better alternative?” Jamie reasoned.

“Aye, at least, there’s a reason to keep an eye on her or for you to keep an eye on her” Brian answered back.

“By deceiving her, lying to her?” Brian and Ellen shrugged in resignation. They knew the weight of the burden they’re asking Jamie to carry but if they could think of any other way, they’d do it in a heartbeat. “What do you expect this arrangement will accomplish?” Jamie couldn’t help but ask. Despite the weirdness of the situation, he was rather curious.

“Well, we went far as keeping Claire out of the Randalls and for you, I guess, finally having a chance to court her?” Ellen said, breaking the information.

Jamie sinked down to his chair and ran his fingers in his hair. This was too complicated, too archaic, too messed up and just too…much. “Da, don’t you think I can do that on my own?”

“I know ye can but the situation kind of forced it now.”

They can still hear Claire’s faint screaming from the other room as she continued to barrage her parents with questions.

“What do you expect me to say to Claire?”

“That they leave to you. She’s probably too angry at them to believe a word they will say but they ask that you leave the shady business behind first until they can look at it further.”

Jamie nodded in understanding but still, the fact is, they’ve trampled themselves in some sort of tricky situation.

“She will never forgive me for this if she knew the truth. I know it” Jaime said, defeated, but Claire’s safety comes first.

Brian placed a hand on Jamie’s shoulder in support. “If your feelings are as true as you know them to be, then hopefully – hopefully, she’ll come around”

-

“I can perfectly protect the family business even as a doctor! I don’t need a husband to do that for me!”

Jamie could still hear Claire argue with her parents but they’ve been there long enough and the night needed to end. After his talk with his parents, and with the sudden revelation of his true feelings, it was a no-brainer that Jamie was in this plan now. However, he would not still allow for this “engagement” to Claire be the thing that gets them together – he doesn’t want it that way and she probably doesn’t want it that way either. He wanted her and he wanted to earn her trust and love – not through this forced arrangement.

So, he focused at the task at hand: Keep Claire away from the Randalls – this is priority #1. He’s almost sure Henry and Julia conjured up an improbable reason and he decided to just go and run with whatever reason they built. He doesn’t know it yet but once it comes up, it’s his turn to continue with the story. He’s works in publishing, surely he can come up with one fast?

He ran his hands through his face and hair to prepare himself then Jamie knocked on the door to interrupt the Beauchamp’s.  

“What?!” Claire retorted forcefully. She was nowhere near done with her parents.

“It’s Jamie.” he heard shuffling on the other side and the door swung open.

Instead of addressing Claire, he turned to her parents. “Uncle Henry, Aunt Julia, would you mind giving the room to me and Claire?”

“Jamie, I am not done speaking - “ she tried to stop them but they were out the door and Jamie closed it behind him.

“You seriously cannot agree to this!” Claire began pacing again.

“I don’t” he said calmly, rooted in where he stood.

“Then let’s tell them that nothing going to happen! They can’t dictate our lives like this! Get married?! Did they even think for once that we might have prospects of our own, that we want to choose who spend the rest of our lives with?” Claire was rambling, explaining away the reasons this arrangement was ridiculous.

“Claire, you know your parents and you know mine. They wouldn’t do this if there was no valid reason.”

“And you think this business merger is a valid, ENOUGH reason?”

So that is what they told her. Jamie decided to just run with it.

“No, not enough.” he said, playing along with the ruse.

“Then someone tell me more because I am left out in the dark here”

“So am I.” he lied. “But I have an idea - but you won’t like it”

“As long as it does not lead to the altar, I’m open”

“Well, ye and I dinna ken the bottomline of this setup. I thought if we investigated for ourselves and find out how this all came to be, maybe we can catch their intention and stop it there”

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Claire asked, brows furrowing.

“Ye got any other ideas?”

“Yeah, shove “no” into their faces”

Jamie had to laugh at that remark then turned serious. “And when ye do that, they’ll force our hand by making an announcement to the media and then breaking the engagement off will be harder to do. It’ll be a scandal to both our families.” Jamie said as if knowing that’s exactly what their parents are going to do. “That is when everything can be lost”

Claire sat down, tired and resigned. “So what, we just engaged, just like that?”

He moved and sat beside her, not touching but close enough to radiate enough trust in what they're about to embark on. “Ye ken the theater? We can just make them believe we are running along with it. All the while, we can hitch our own plan and find a way to let this die as quietly as possible”

“Pretend we’re engaged? You know I’m a bad actor” she said and Jamie nodded in agreement. “Ye are.” Claire laughed in return then looked at Jamie - her childhood friend turned fake-engaged fiancé?

“As long as there are no other viable plans, I agree to give it a go. Now, what happens next?” she asked.

-

Both came out of the study and walked towards their parents who were having a deep conversation of their own. Sensing their children, all four turned to them in anticipation.

“We have come to a decision” Jamie began. Their parents sat straighter in wait. “We have agreed to this arrangement” He put his hand up to stop them from rejoicing and they immediately backed down. “However, we have conditions. Break one of them and we break this off” Jamie took charge and Claire silently stood beside him in support and solidarity.

“First, no announcements shall be made to the media of any kind – newspaper, internet, all types.”

“Second, you cannot tell anyone else in our family – not Jenny, Willie or Rabbie. Only the six of us will know until we’re ready to tell them ourselves.”

“Third, we will decide when and where to get married. No questions as pertaining the details of the…wedding…that is to come may be asked in the duration of this engagement”

The words falling out of Jamie's lips felt foreign to him but he needed to be strong for this - he can be strong for this, for Claire. He looked straight in the eyes of all their parents and let them know how hard this is for him and what he received in return was a look that said that they understood and they were grateful.

“Is that all?” Henry asked and both nodded. He then looked to his wife, then to the Frasers, and then to Claire and Jamie. “If that’s all then, we agree to your conditions” The four parents rose and gave their children hugs and everyone resumed the night as if everything was okay and nothing crazy happened at all.

A/N: First, I am so sorry this chapter took a while to come around. I knew the story in my head a while back but putting them down on paper has put me in a little writer's block. But I just took a social media break and had a little bit more creative space to push this through. :) I'm not a super angsty person so apologies if the angst isn't all that much but I really tried! :) So excited that I get to push this story along now - and yes, in this story, the Randalls are really shady, douchy, people. So Frank fans, sorry in advance! As always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. Your messages mean a lot! <3 #Chapter3HereWeCome

[dunbonnets]

DEEP HEART'S CORE, outlander.

There was a time, not very long ago, when Brian Randall used to know who he was. He knew that he was the son of a headstrong doctor and a brilliant professor, and that the entirety of his soul blazed with a passion as bright as the stars for which he studied vigorously. He knew that while he may be the younger twin, he would always be Brianna's overprotective brother, and that he was going to ask the beautiful Katherine Johanson to marry him one day. But one visit with some relatives in London and a funeral for an old friend of his parents in Scotland changed everything, and suddenly, Brian Randall didn't even know who he was anymore. How are you supposed to go on with your life knowing that everything about yourself was a lie? To go on living like nothing has ever happened? To act like everything is normal when it is, in fact, very far from that? The light of his soul burned out, passions fading away like a dying star into a cold and empty abyss, and he spent his days tirelessly researching what had happened to his real father, James Fraser, in the past. And eventually, through historical archives and the help of Roger Wakefield, they discovered that the eighteenth century Scotsman had survived the Battle of Culloden. It took falling over two hundred years into the past for Brian Randall to find himself again, the burnt out light of his soul being restored in the arms of the most unlikely of women. Though, it was not with the pretty and wealthy Dorothea Pembroke whom his aunt had arranged for him to marry and rather the lovely and clever Moira Hawethorne, a baron girl with nothing to her name who found herself in the fortunate care of his charitable aunt, Jocasta Cameron. Now, through time and space, Brian Randall knows precisely who he is. He is a man uncertain about what is wrong and what is right. A man caught between love and duty. A man who desires a woman that he cannot have in a time where he does not belong. And now he doesn't know what to do with his life. But he does know one thing for certain, and that is he does not wish to marry Dorothea Pembroke, for the entirety of his soul belongs only to the lovely Moira Hawethorne.

━━ WARNINGS: canon-typical violence, murder, period-typical racism, rape (not seen but overheard through pov/mentioned later), mentions of suicide, eventual smut.

━━ STATUS: in-progress. sporadic updates.

━━ CHAPTERS: 03 / ??

━━ LINKS: fic tag. read on wattpad. read on ao3.

[dunbonnets]

Brian: Is this about Moira?

Jocasta: No.

Brian: Then I've lost interest.

[bee-kathony]

McTavish & Beauchamp | Ch. 24 “Journeys” 

a/n: thank you to my boo @julesbeauchamp for making my new lovely moodboard for this series!

Masterlist Here

Jamie didn’t want to leave Claire behind, but it was the safest option for both her and the bairn. As he rode away, he had looked back at her, smiling at the sight of her watching him go with one hand cradled over her belly. Seeing her filled with his child was one of his favorite sights.

He loved his children and he missed them dearly. The thought of finding his father and bringing him back to Lallybroch and introducing him to his own bairns brought tears to his eyes.

Eight years. Brian Fraser had been in Fort William for eight long years and Jamie prayed every step of the way that his Da was indeed still alive. With the help of Colum’s letter, Jamie expected no trouble in freeing his father. But he couldn’t help the chill that went down his spine at the thought of returning to the place he had been flogged.

He had lain in agony in that place — his body split open and bleeding. The wounds from his first flogging had barely time to heal in the span of a week before Jonathan Randall inflicted one hundred more lashes. The scars would be with him for the remainder of his life. The only thing giving him peace was that Randall was now dead and by his own hand.

There time in Paris had been fraught with peril and they had nearly lost Faith. They returned to Scotland together though and Jamie felt that his and Claire’s relationship was stronger than ever. He trusted her with his life and with his children. There was a mutual respect and understanding between the two of them.

As Jamie rode on throughout the next few days, his mind had nothing much to focus on and he found himself drifting back to the early days of his and Claire’s time at Leoch. That night in the surgery when they had given over to their desires. He had been so unexperienced when he had lain with her, everything was so new to him. Jamie’s cheeks turned pink as he thought about his father and what he would have said to him about bedding a lass before wedding her.

There were times when Jamie regretted giving over to his most primal desires, but he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything. Seeing her sweet expression as her body tightened around his and the breathy moans that he would never tire of hearing. He had belonged to her from the moment he laid eyes on her.

After the first time they had made love, they had only lain with each other one other time while they were on the road collecting rents. And not long after that they were wed. On Jamie’s second day riding as he passed through great stretches of open land of the Highlands, his thoughts once again settled on Claire. There was a moment at Castle Leoch just after they had been together that Jamie thought he might get another chance, but it had been interrupted by Mrs. Fitz asking for Claire’s help in the kitchen.

Jamie had been looking for her all day, Mistress Beauchamp. Since they had lain together only three nights ago, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from thinking of her. He also couldn’t help the terrible cockstand he got when he thought of her bonny fat arse under his hands. The night of the gathering when Jamie had made his own oath to Colum, he had held Claire in his arms while they sat against a tree. She had touched him and just with her wee hand had made him spill himself.

He would have — should have felt ashamed, but the way he felt when he was with her clouded his judgement. Jamie had asked around for her and finally someone had mentioned they’d seen her in the kitchens with Mrs. Fitz helping to prepare the feast for the last day of the gathering.

Walking in the kitchen, he saw her. Curly hair wild around her face, her hands covered in flour and the sweetest smile on her lips. She was kneading dough and Jamie’s eyes trailed down across her chest, his tongue snaking out between his lips as he noticed her breasts moving with every pound to the dough.

“Ifrinn,” Jamie cursed himself and his pervasive thoughts and just as he started to turn away she called to him. “Mr. McTavish!”

“How long have you been standing there?” She asked him as she abandoned the dough and came over to him in the doorway. Claire wiped her hands on her apron, but they were still covered in flour.

“Just a wee while,” he grinned and then took her hand, daring at glance in the kitchen before pulling Claire with him and walking to a more secluded alcove.

“And just what do you think you’re doing Jamie?” Claire laughed, placing her hands on his chest. “Oh no!” Her hands had gotten flour all over his vest in the shape of handprints. “What will people think happened to you now?” She laughed as she tried to wipe away the flour but only ended up making it worse.

“Most likely that I’ve been beaten by Mrs. Fitz for tryin’ to steal away some bannocks before the feast,” Jamie grinned and then captured both her hands in his, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. “I’ve been lookin’ for ye.”

Her cheeks blushed red and she met his eye. “Have you decided I’m some kind of whore after having my way with you?”

Jamie’s mouth parted, he would never get used to a lass using such language so freely. “No! Not at all,” he squeezed her hands. “If anyone is to blame, tis me for bein’ a brute. But nah — I dinna regret a single moment.” He placed his fingers under her chin and kissed her then, sliding his tongue slowly between her lips. “I wouldna have taken ye to a dark alcove and pressed myself up against ye just so if I thought you a whoor.”

“Wouldn’t most men do exactly that?” She laughed. “Take a woman they so desired to a dark place and have his way with her?”

“All I ken is that I dinna want a whore…” he said sheepishly, feeling the heat creep up his chest as he looked down at her. “I want ye, Mistress. I think highly of ye is all and well I mean to say that I havena stopped thinkin’ of ye since—“

“Since I took your virginity and gave you a hand job?” She smirked.

“Weel, when ye say it like that, Sassenach, I sound as if all I want is yer body,” he grinned and moved his hands to her waist, pressing his thumbs against her soft flesh at the sides.

Claire looked down between them, a heavy sigh leaving her lips. “What is it lass?”

She didn’t meet his eye, but kept her focus on a loose string on his vest, her fingers idly playing with it. “I feel guilty,” she said softly.

“Guilty?”

“Yes, for what we did. For what I did to you…”

“Oh lass,” Jamie pressed his forehead against hers. “Ye did nothin’ I didna ask for or nearly beg from ye.”

“I just can’t get over how I’ve behaved… my husband—“

“Ye said he was dead, Sassenach, there’s no reason to blame yerself,” he smiled softly at her. “Tis no’ like he is alive.”

Claire was silent after he said this and he wondered if he was wrong in bringing up her husband’s death. She clearly still grieved for him and he saw that she was upset now as a single tear rolled down her cheek. “Oh lass, Claire.” He wrapped his arms around her body and held her.

She didn’t weep as she had before, but her grip tightened around him and he placed his hand on the back of her head. He felt her heartbeat against his chest and they stood there simply holding each other for what felt like forever. Finally she pulled back and wiped under her eyes.

“I might feel a bit guilty, Jamie, but I don’t regret what we did,” she smiled, her hand coming to cup his cheek. “I really did enjoy it.”

“Aye,” he grinned, the pad of his thumb pressing lightly against her bottom lip. “So did I.”

“You did promise me a bed?” Claire looked up at him, her eyelashes fluttering and he felt his wame quiver at the look in her whisky eyes.

“Och, I did. And I promise one day we shall be able to,” Jamie leaned down and kissed her. Her hands were tangled in his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck. She grew fierce, hungry almost and he hissed when he felt her hand pressed against him. “Sassenach…”

“Wot?” She mumbled against his lips as she moved her hand over his cock. There was only the thick material of her dress and his kilt separating them and it would only take a moment. His hands drifted along her hips and as he started to pull at her skirts he stopped himself.

“We canna,” he moaned, closing his eyes as her hand pressed more firmly. “Christ.”

“I know you said you wouldn’t lie with me again until we found a proper bed, but,” she twisted her hand and he bit his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“Jesus, Sassenach,” he muttered and leaned his head back against the stone wall. What he wanted was to see her body, smooth and white laid out on the sheets before him, but his cock had other ideas. “I need ye,” he leaned down and kissed her.

It really should have crossed both of their minds that they were still in an alcove in a corridor of the castle. Anyone could have walked by and seen them. As Jamie finally slid a hand under her dress and touched just between her legs, eliciting a moan from Claire, he heard footsteps coming towards them.

“Ifrinn!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Claire panted as she opened her eyes to look at him.

“Someone’s coming,” Jamie reluctantly pulled his hand away and out from the folds of her skirt.

“Mistress Beauchamp?” Came the voice of Mrs. Fitz from around the corner.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” Claire muttered and rearranged her skirts before stepping out from the alcove. Jamie grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him, kissing her hastily before she slipped out of his grip.

She turned back to him, winking as she returned to the kitchen. That night he had touched himself as he thought of her and her wee hands. Jamie felt ashamed by his actions and prayed to God to forgive him, but he wanted her so and he wouldn’t rest until the day he could have Mistress Beauchamp.

++++++

Jamie rose just as the sun began to rise and he packed his few belongings and saddled his horse. Today he would reach Fort William — he would see his father again.

He still hadn’t full let himself believe that the news was true. His father, alive all this time and living so close to him. Jamie mostly felt ashamed that he was unaware this entire time, unaware that his father had been imprisoned unrightfully.

That same chill went down his spine as he spotted it. The stone walls of the fort. Jamie wanted to get in and get out as quickly as possible.

Leaving his horse tied up nearby, Jamie walked to the entrance of the fort, giving his name to one of the guards. He still felt uncomfortable in the presence of so many redcoats and suddenly he wondered why he had come alone. Certainly his godfather Murtagh would have joined him, but ultimately Jamie knew he needed to see his father on his own.

“Follow me, Mister Fraser,” the redcoat commanded. He led him through the doors and down the hallway, into a room that must have belonged to the commanding officer.

“Lieutenant Grey will speak with you presently,” the redcoat nodded his head and then left Jamie on his own. He had made it this far.

Jamie must have waited only five minutes before the man he assumed to be Grey walked in. He was a young man, with his tricorn placed perfectly on his head and his uniform clean. Jamie wondered what a young officer had done to be placed here at the fort instead of serving elsewhere — away from lowly prisoners.

“Mister Fraser I presume?” The man smiled warmly and walked over to take a seat behind his desk. “I am Lord John Grey, it’s a pleasure to have you here.”

“Thank ye, sir,” Jamie bowed his head and took the seat opposite the man.

“I’ve received a letter from a Colum MacKenzie informing me of your arrival. Arrived just the other day,” the man motioned to the letter on his desk. “I must say this is an unfortunate incident and I’m terribly sorry about it all.”

“Och, I blame my bastard of an uncle,” Jamie smirked and saw the other man’s eyes widen at his language. Jamie had forgotten how the British had been.

Lord John moved forward, crossing his hands in front of him. “Well I won’t hold you any longer than is necessary. Your father is here and in my possession.”

Jamie’s chest nearly caved in at the words. “He really is alive?”

“Why yes, Mister Fraser,” Lord John scoffed. “Did you really not know of his state?”

He shook his head, “No, I didna. I kent him to be dead these past eight years.”

“My God,” the man before him sat back in his chair. “So it’s true.”

“What’s true?” Jamie leaned forward, his heart racing now.

“I’ve had the privilege of speaking with your father, he is a kind man — although a bit of a temper on him and he spoke of his son and how if his son knew that he was still alive, he wouldn’t be rotting away in these cells.”

“Will ye release him to me?”

“I will,” Lord John nodded. “I’ve read this MacKenzie’s letter several times and I can see there was a clear understanding, however I must have your word that this is the truth.”

“My word? Ye’ll take my word and then release my father to me?” Jamie noticed that the man before him was looking at him with a curious look. He would be lying to himself if Jamie didn’t realize that this man was attracted to him. Claire had told him that he had caught the eye of many woman and men around. Jamie of course had only the need to be with Claire, but wondered why it was always so that people found him so agreeable. “Aye, Lord John Grey, I give ye my word that tis the truth written in my uncle Colum’s letter.”

“Very well,” the man smiled and rose from behind the desk. “Your father has become a bit of a leader with the prisoners, I’m sure they’ll be sad to see him go.”

He led them through the halls and Jamie had to close his eyes as they passed the cell that had once been his while he waited for his floggings. This place was the last time he had seen his father. The last time he had felt his father’s kiss on his cheek.

He still felt that kiss and heard his father’s last words as they reached the largest cell.

“Brian Fraser, please step forward,” Grey spoke. There was a shift and then a man was moving towards them. It was still too dark for Jamie to see if it really was his father.

“Your son, Jamie has come to release you.”

“Jamie?”

“Da, is that you?” He took a step forward just as the man took a step in the light. There he stood — his da. Jet black hair and still the same tall stature. He was thinner, of course, but Jamie would have recognized him anywhere.

“My son,” Brian moved his hand up to cup Jamie’s cheek. “I knew ye’d find me one day. I never lost hope of it.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Jamie grinned and then fell into his father’s arms and wept.

[bee-kathony]

Fraser Memorial | Ch. 1 “Sutures”

Thank you @sassenachwaffles for being my beta on this chapter and thank you @jules-fraser for approving of my pictures and indulging me as I started another fic! 

2015 | Scotland

The emergency room had been quiet all morning, only three people had come in with minor injuries that were fixed in minutes. My fingers ached to suture someone’s skin, fix a broken nose... anything that would take my focus off of my ex.

Frank Randall had cheated on me. Simple as that.

But it wasn’t simple, he was my fiancé, we’d been together for six years and had plans. Hopes and dreams that involved us buying a house, getting married, children… he ruined them when he slept with one of his students. A history professor at Oxford University, Frank had wooed me in my last year of school. He was a new professor and I was smitten with the teacher.

I should have known that something like this could have happened.

I was once the student, crushing on their professor, hoping he would ask to see me after class so we could talk those extra five minutes without anyone else around.

It’d only been three months since I found out he was sleeping with her and in that short time I had relocated to Edinburgh to get away from him and my shattered dreams. Thankfully the hospital accepted my transfer. It was rare that they would take on a resident from another hospital, especially since I was English.

I glanced down at my watch, only ten minutes had passed since I’d last checked it. Sighing, I ran my hand through my mass of curls, getting my finger stuck in a knot. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” I cursed, yanking my hand and managing to make matters worse.

“Ye need scissors?” Geillis, a fellow resident, asked from behind the nurses station.

I huffed, “No, thank you. I’ve almost,” I pulled a bit more, “Got it!” My hand came free and only a few loose strands drifted to the white tiled floor.

“Ye ever think about cutting it? Yer hair?” Geillis pointed to my bird’s nest.

Shaking my head, I pulled my hair tie off my wrist and started putting it in a messy bun, “I would look horrific if I cut my hair,” I laughed, tucking loose bits into the bun. “They would stick out even more, if that’s even possible.”

“Aye, yer probably right.” She laughed and then we both turned our heads to the emergency room doors that were now opening with a bang. Finally.

A man with a slight limp walked through the doors, holding up a very large red headed man who appeared to be doubled over in pain.

“Mine!” I called before Geillis could and raced off to meet the men, leaving Geillis’ shouts of complaint behind me.

“How can I help?” I asked, my eyes taking stock of what was before me. The larger man’s face was twisted in pain, and his hand was clutching his opposite shoulder. Dislocated. There was also blood, and a lot of it, running down his arm.

“This idiot here thought he could lift a box of about forty-five bottles of whisky, clumsy dolt.” The blonde man laughed through his words, “Happened walkin’ up the stairs. Smashed all the whisky o’ course.” I chuckled lightly to myself, clearly the man was not too concerned about his friends pain.

“Come with me, we’ll get you set up in a bed and I’ll take a look at that shoulder.” I led the two men who slowly followed over to the row of beds. The large man laid down, wincing as he fell back against the pillows.

“You’ll probably want to sit up and not lean on that arm.” I instructed and moved my fingers in a ‘come forward’ motion.

“Aye, I think it’s broken.” The red haired man said, groaning as he sat up in the bed.

I laid my hand gently on his shoulder to assess the damage, it was in fact dislocated. This would be an easy fix. “It’s not broken, only dislocated.”

“Only,” he laughed and I looked into his eyes for the first time to find that they were the brightest blue I’d ever seen. Caught off guard, I shook my head slightly and turned my attention back to his shoulder.

“I’m going to pop it back into place, it’ll hurt but then feel a whole lot better.” I placed my hands firmly on his arm and he nodded, gritting his teeth and looked straight ahead.

Applying pressure, I forced his shoulder back and then up and it made a sort of popping noise as it reset. The man grunted but then let out his breath, looking down at his shoulder to see it good as new.

“Ah Dhia, it feels a thousand times better, thank ye Sassenach.” He smiled up at me and I felt my belly do a little flip.

“You’re welcome. It really wasn’t very — wait… what did you call me?” I shot my eyebrows up at him. I’m pretty sure that ‘Sassenach’ was not a very nice name to call someone.

The man blushed, his ears turning pink as he met my gaze full on, “Och, I didna mean it in a bad way, of course not, yer English are ye no’?”

“Well, yes I am.” I crossed my arms in front of me and waited for further explanation.

“So…” he drew out the word, “’Tis only a way of calling ye that, yer an outlander, lass. Please dinna take offense because I truly didna mean to offend ye. ’Tis only I dinna ken yer name.”

I looked down at my chest where my name tag should’ve been but it had somehow fallen off during the day. “Oh, I’m Claire. Claire Beauchamp.” I smiled and then I remembered the man’s friend and turned my head to him as well, offering him the same smile.

“This is Ian, my brother-in-law,” the man pointed to his friend with the limp, “and I’m Jamie. Now that we ken each other’s names maybe ye could attend to this blood that hasna stopped drippin’ out of my arm?”

I cursed under my breath. Christ, I had completely forgotten that he had been bleeding. His eyes were a distraction and his Scottish lilt was rather enchanting. Of course, I knew that by moving to Scotland, I would in fact hear plenty of Scottish accents but there was something in the Highland-lilt -- something about the way he said ‘Sassenach’.

“Jesus! I’m sorry,” my cheeks turned red and I moved over to the cabinet beside the bed, quickly pulling out what I would need. Definitely sutures, bandages, antiseptic and tweezers to pull out any remaining glass.

Once I set up the tray and had it arranged neatly, I rolled the small cart over beside the bed. “Hold out your arm please.”

Jamie lifted his arm, and I sucked in the air between my teeth, there was a large piece of glass sticking out. I normally had a strong stomach but sometimes, there were things that put me over the edge.

“Jamie, yer doctor’s afraid of blood. I told ye we shoulda gone to the other hospital,” Ian laughed and put his hand on Jamie’s back.

“I’m normally fine, blood doesn’t make me ill but seeing that,” I looked down at his arm again, “has made me just a wee bit nauseous.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. If ye throw up, I promise to make sure none of that hair on top of yer head gets in the vomit.” Jamie laughed and I would have hit him on the arm if he wasn’t injured.

“Thank you,” I said sarcastically and turned to grab the antiseptic and cloth to clean around his wound before I dislodged the glass shard.

While I cleaned his wound, Jamie didn’t complain, only pressed his lips tightly together and put on a brave face. “This may hurt,” I said in a soft tone as I held my tweezers near the glass.

“Just do it, lass.”

The glass came out easily enough, and thankfully it wasn’t very deep into his skin but he would definitely need sutures. I laid the shard on the tray and grabbed another cloth to clean him and this time Jamie let out a little yelp as the antiseptic touched his wound.

“Can deal with a dislocated shoulder but not a little sting?” I mused, smiling up at him as I continued to clean the remaining blood.

His arm twitched slightly but he didn’t pull it back, “Och, the stinging is verra painful, Sassenach, dinna make fun of me!”

“He’s a big baby, Claire, dinna listen to him,” Ian chimed, “He cries in sappy romantic movies too, don’t ye?”

Jamie glared at Ian, but there was a slight mischievous glint in his eye.

“I dinna cry, I have allergies,” Jamie grumbled, puffing out his chest a little.

I grabbed the needle and threaded the suture through the small hole and brought it to his skin. “I have allergies too, you know like when I watch ‘Titanic’ and Jack dies, somehow I always get allergies during that scene,” I joked, which earned me a nudge from Jamie’s other hand into my side.

“Dinna joke about ‘Titanic, Claire, ’tis verra serious, their love was forever.” He laughed and I had to admit to myself that he was very interesting. Jamie was such a large presence, one wouldn’t think at first glance that he was into romantic movies and even cried during them.

“Seems like ye’ll be awhile,” Ian said, “I’m gonna go and grab a snack out of the vending machine, ye need anything, Fraser?”

Fraser? Surely not…

I waited until Ian had walked away before asking Jamie what was currently making me freak out.

“Fraser? That’s your last name?” He jumped slightly as I poked him with the needle and began to suture his wound.

“Aye, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, to be exact.”

“As in… Fraser Memorial… the name of this hospital?” I paused my work on his arm to look up into his face.

Jamie’s ear’s turned pink again, “Aye, well ’tis no’ like it’s me who owns the hospital. That’d be my Da Brian. One day though… it’ll be mine.”

He was practically my boss and here I was picturing late nights cuddled up next to him on the couch watching ‘Titanic’ and crying.

“So it’s named after your dad then? Kind of odd to name a hospital after yourself, aye?” I resumed suturing his wound, nearly done.

“Och, no. It’s named after my older brother Willie.” He replied, looking down to watch the needle go through the last bit of skin and I clipped the end and tied it off. “He passed away when I was a lad.” I watched as I saw his blue eyes go gray and his smile faded for a moment. “He had cancer.”

My hand lingered on his arm, offering comfort, “I’m so sorry Jamie. Was he treated at this hospital?”

“Aye,” his voice trembled, as if he was remembering his brother now, “My father partnered with a man and bought the hospital a year after Willie died. Then they renamed it for him, to remember.”

I bandaged his arm in silence, not quite knowing what to say, what could I ever say to that?

“You’re all done.” I tucked in the end of the bandage underneath, “You need to clean the wound daily, and for the first couple of days you’ll need to change out the bandage, some blood seeping through is normal.” I assured him, and looked over to see Ian returning with bags of crisps and candy in his arms.

“Och, yer finished? I had to go to three different floors to find what I wanted.” He groaned and offered Jamie a bag of crisps.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. For healing me wi’ yer wee hands so well.” Jamie grabbed my hand and placed his lips on the back of it. I could have sworn he heard my heart beating frantically in my chest.

“No problem at all, anything for a Fraser,” I laughed, hoping I didn’t sound like I was trying to suck up to the owner’s son.

“Will I need to come back to get the sutures taken out?”

“Oh, yes! Come back in about three weeks and I’ll take them out for you.” I only prayed that when he returned I would be on shift.

“Aye, three weeks then, Claire.” Jamie smiled and turned to leave with Ian, who was munching on a Snickers bar, going on and on about how stupid Jamie was to lift that heavy of a box.

My eyes never left the back of his head as I watched them walk away and just before they turned around the corner, Jamie’s eyes met mine and he grinned, setting butterflies loose in my belly.

Present day

I checked my reflection in the mirror, applying one more coat of mascara before I decided my make-up would just have to do for the evening. My dress was a simple black, that hugged every curve and line of my body. Just the way my husband liked, or so he showed me.

“Sassenach!” He called from the living room, “Are ye ready? We dinna want to be late!”

“Such an impatient man,” I fussed, grabbing my coat from the bed and slipping it on over my shoulders. Jamie was waiting for me, his arms crossed, looking down at his watch.

“I’m ready. I swear it!” I smiled and kissed him on the cheek as he turned his face to press his lips to mine.

“Don’t!” I pulled back, “You’ll mess up my lipstick and I don’t think you want to wait around for me to fix it.”

“I’d love to mess up yer lipstick, Sassenach. And that wee dress of yers too,” the color of his eyes turned into a deep blue, “but yer right, we must go.” He sighed, frowning as he settled for a kiss to my forehead and took my hand, leading me to the door.

“Are you nervous, Jamie?” I squeezed his hand as we walked to the car parked on the street.

“Aye, a wee bit.”

“Your speech will be great, I know it.” He stopped us before we climbed into the car, his hands slid down my body to rest on my hips.

“’Tis a big responsibility, bein’ an owner of a hospital.” He squeezed my sides making me jump, “With my father retiring and all, I ken it has to be me but I just worry I willna be good at it.”

Not caring about my lipstick or the stain it would leave on his lips, I pressed forward and closed our mouths together. “Jamie Fraser, you’re the bravest man I know. You’re ready for this, your father has trained you well. Besides…” I smirked, my hands sliding down over his arse, “I can’t wait until I can say I sleep with the boss.”

Jamie laughed and pressed his lips to mine again, “I love ye, Sassenach. Truly, I do.”

“And I you, Jamie. Now let’s go! It’s bloody freezing out here, and I need those heated seats!”

He let go of my hips and opened the passenger door for me. The entire drive over, his hand never left mine - I squeezed it off and on, a matter of habit, to remind him I was there. I was always going to be there, I was always going to be his biggest supporter.

The tension was seeping out of his body. No normal person would have known that, but I knew James Fraser, and I knew just how big of a night this retirement gala at Fraser Memorial was going to be.