#i have a hot date with a pasta bowl & all the dr who i need to get caught up on sooo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maviemesregles · 5 years ago

Text

Once I was an Eagle

The third chapter is here, folks! :) The story unfolds itself slowly but surely. (NSFW)

A shoutout to my lovely beta @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur <3 Thank you for sharing this journey with me and for your kind words of encouragement.

So from now on, you guys don't have to bear with my mistakes any longer :)

❤

As always it’s available on AO3.

Chapter I: The beginnings

Chapter II: Sassenach

CHAPTER III: Catharsis

Mess was something I was afraid of. I remember my mother always saying that sometimes I'm too emotional and irrational. So I've learned how to be organized and keep everything in order, including my emotions. I had to. I was a surgeon and could not allow my feelings or temper overtake me. Claire Beauchamp who knows what to do. Years of learning made me a perfect example of a control freak. I could be a coach giving lessons on how to hold your shit together. But, it was a facade, a mask put on for work and strangers, for the patients who needed to have a Dr. Beauchamp who has everything under control. My true nature did not always correspond with the show I tried to sell.

Since I bumped into that tall Scot, the last little thread I held over my inner world was slipping out of my fingers. Then there was a law of inertia. I was balancing on the edge before falling down to the abyss of the unknown.

I returned home with an unsatisfied ache in my belly, between my thighs, behind my closed eyelids, and on my swollen kissed lips. I jumped into the hot shower furiously scrubbing down myself to wash off the smell of the pub, the street, (and his cologne that traveled with me home) off my skin. I've spent a good twenty minutes standing under the shower trying to reclaim the power over the situation that was running away from me as quickly as the water into the drain below my feet. I inhaled and exhaled (the way they taught us at yoga classes which Geillis made me go).

My fingers traced the bottom lip where I could still taste him. Get a grip, Beauchamp.

When I just crossed the threshold, Geillis's number was shining on my screen before I even could take shoes off of my aching feet. "I hoped ye willna pick up." She mumbled mouth fulll, chewing on something crispy.

"Ye did so I reckon yer not with him?"

"Nah".

"Was he that bad?"

I shook my head as if she could see me.

"No, not at all. At the beginning of the evening, I couldn't guess if he's just a confident prick who's trying to get into my knickers or not but now I don't know."

After a detailed description of the date to Geillis, I strolled down to the bathroom. “Maybe he didn't like me?" I asked thoughtfully, trying to get rid of mascara that has imprinted into the delicate skin, which now was turning red.

"He'd better get into yer knickers" Geillis snorted. "But I think the lad likes ye well enough, only he has decided to teach ye a lesson after Lallybroch or he's being a gentleman. If he wanted to get ye laid he'd done it this evening."

“Is it a good or bad thing?" I asked pulling my jeans down.

"I dinna ken. I'd say ye invite this Jamie over to dinner and see for yourself".

Grabbing Adso under my armpit on the way to the bedroom, my phone came alive with a loud ringing (Jesus, I have to change that ringtone). Already planning what I might say to Geillis (remembering all swear words I knew) I almost pressed Accept but stopped right in time, seeing "James" on the screen. I stared at my cell phone long enough to read now "Missed call".

I had texted him while in the cab "Home. Safe and sound." He replied what appeared in a second "Good. It was a bonnie evening."

I crossed my legs sitting at the end of the bed, watching Adso bury himself under the duvet. Why has he called?

I spent about ten minutes before my fingers finally hit the Call button.

"Jamie?"

"Claire"

He said my name in a way that made my toes curl and my heart race a marathon. The soft vibrating "R" and a hint of an accent turned just Claire into something more special than I could imagine.

I heard a quiet rustling of the sheets and his quiet breathing before I spoke. That made me wonder how he looked in bed. Did he sleep on the right or left side of the bed? Was he a light sleeper or not? What did he dream?

"Is something amiss?" I bent my neck holding the phone between my ear and shoulder.

"No. Just wanted to hear ye voice again."

"Oh." I gasped. I bit down on my lip but nonetheless could see a stupid smile on my face reflecting in the window.

"I dinna wake ye, Sassenach?" I heard him shift, getting comfortable and tried to imagine what he looked like. Was he tangled into the mass of bed sheets and blanket, sitting upright in the dim bedside light. Or maybe laying down, one hand up, elbow supporting his head, chest rising and falling with his quiet breathing.

"No. I was just getting ready for bed."

Adso's grey head popped out of the duvet. My companion looked at me tentatively and climbed up onto my knees with a loud "Meow."

"Ye have a cat?” I was sure I could hear him smile.

"Uh uh". I mumbled stroking Adso's furry back.

There was a pause for what seemed an eternity before Jamie asked quietly.

"Can I meet the wee cheetie?"

* * *

That night, Jamie and I had agreed on what he simply called "a real date" I could not sleep. I was vaguely aware of the lonely cars passing down the streets, drunk gangs of students singing and screaming in the park across the way, I could hear my neighbour's TV speaking. I fell asleep by 5 am feeling absolutely drained. I took extra shifts for the next couple of days (to clear my head from him) and felt thoroughly exhausted. So now when my phone buzzed, I startled almost kicking a cup of Earl Grey off the table.

"What's yer drink of choice, Sassenach?"

"Make it wine. Red" I quickly typed back rushing to my fridge. (what goes with red wine? Geillis and I never had this problem mixing up takeaway of all kind with a bottle of red)

"Sorted. 7pm, right?"

"See you."

"xoxo"

My cheeks blossomed into a rosy pink while I giggled at his last text. Adso glared at me from his windowsill perch, shook his head, licked his paw twice and jumped off heading to his bowl. That brought me back to my earlier task of the day to think of the menu for tonight. I had to fight an urge just to order from my favorite Italian restaurant and pretend I prepared it all. "Christ." I hissed examining the shelves of the refrigerator. Old curry takeaway, Brie cheese which was probably out of date, some leftovers from my attempt at the pumpkin soup and a pack of milk.

Next two hours I've spent tidying up my entire flat, doing several loads of laundry, changing the bedsheets to fresh crisp ones, and hiding away my Ikea plushy teddy bear that Joe got me last birthday as a joke. The kitchen was scrubbed down until the counters shone and all fridge food remains were thrown into the rubbish bin. Lighting scented candles that lived on the coffee table in the living room, I caught myself thinking I'm trying too hard.

Jamie would step into the house of Dr. Beauchamp - organized, clean and ordered. He wouldn't see two weeks piles of laundry needed to be done, he would not open the fridge and close it deciding to call a takeaway because he'd realize I'm a terrible cook. Jamie wouldn't laugh at me for sleeping with a toy in bed, nor he wouldn't know about the existence of "snack basket" full of crisps and Gummies next to my couch. He wouldn't know who Claire really is. Or would he? Did I want him to know?

After paying for the Waitrose delivery, I occupied kitchen with an unusual enthusiasm that didn't last long. I was a nervous wreck. My attempt at pasta Carbonara came out as someone's morning sickness and was sent straight into the trash. Cursing and praying to all existing Gods at once I've reminded myself that I wanted to keep this easy and fun. So pizza was the choice. Something that was hard for me to fail I still went through the recipe for the dough with surgeon precision. Popping the tomato sauce, spinach and white chunks of mozzarella on top, I glanced at the clock. Feeling the sweat sticky fabric of my shirt clinging to my back I sent pizza tray to the oven hoping Jamie likes Margherita. With Adso purring at my legs, I rushed to the shower mentally thanking myself for washing my hair the day before. Ten minutes later, wrapped up in a towel I was welcomed with a delicious smell of pizza lingering in my kitchen and satisfied with the outcome left to the bedroom.

The sudden doorbell buzz caught me just in the middle of dressing up. Hair looked as if an explosion happened on my head, with the only moisturizer on my skin while I huffed and puffed pulling on old jeans (the ones that lost all their blue from many washings). Grabbing the first jumper that fell out of the wardrobe and dragging it over my head on the way to open a door I prayed that Jamie wouldn't be all dressed up for the occasion. (why did he come twenty-five minutes earlier?)

My heart hammered in my chest and I had to take a few deep breaths trying to appear composed. He was casual. A simple white t-shirt with a leather jacket, the same tartan scarf, and jeans that looked as old as mine.

“I’m here.” His voice sounded low and hoarse.

“You are.” I swallowed a lump in my throat that seemed to suffocate me.

We stood in an awkward silence that stretched between us as the thousands of days, hours, minutes not spent together (yet?)

“Will ye let me in, Sassenach? I’ll freeze my bollocks off out here.” He smiled, the little wrinkles covered the sides of his eyes as the sun rays. I think I heard something in my heart shift.

The cold wind reached my bare feet and I moved aside just a little, letting him through. The familiar smell of his perfume (sea salt, amber wood and Italian cost) wrapped up around me when Jamie leaned to plant a kiss on my cheeks. One on the left, one on the right. I caught myself rising on my tiptoes for him as if I were a cat arching its back into his touch. Somehow it felt much more intimate than our full-mouth-greedy-tongues pub encounter. I watched him taking his jacket off, removing his boots and exclaiming happily “There ye are, wee cheetie” when Adso popped his grey head from the corner and strolled down to Jamie sniffing his hands. I leaned my back against the door thinking that it felt right. James Fraser in my apartment, crouched down on my floor, petting my cat who’s now was purring away. For a second there I wondered how it would feel to be touched by those hands. (is it normal to be jealous of your own cat?)

"I've made pizza. I did not know what you like." I announced, popping a cheesy slice on his plate, licking the grease glistening on my fingers. If it wasn't me kissing him just a couple days ago and flirting away then now I would have been very much offended by the look he gave me. As if he was ready to eat me alive right there, right now.

His gaze softened. (has anyone else on Earth had eyes this blue?)

"It's perfect. I couldna imagine a better option for a dinner than pizza".

It felt easy with him. There were minutes we ate in companionable silence, and minutes when we spoke, "clink-clink" of wine glasses interrupting our voices.

"So, I know horses are your hobby.But you still did not tell what it is you do for a living?" I looked at him over the rim of my glass. I watched him lick his lips, setting his pizza aside.

"I have a wee business with my uncles." Jamie took a sip, his Adam's apple bobbing under the skin as he swallowed. "It's a small beer brewery. Nothing verra special but sufficient enough."

"Beer is it?" I smirked. "I would think a Scot like you should be involved in the whisky business."

He grinned, glass in his hand, cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.

"Well, I'm verra good at drinking it, no making."

When our dinner was demolished and plates covered only in crumbles and crusts (on my plate), I stood up bringing them over to the sink. My hands were almost elbow deep into the soapy water when Jamie had asked something that made my knees shake just for a moment.

"How come such lass as ye not married, let alone single?"

A heavy silence fell down, erasing our previous banter. Sensing my discomfort he added immediately "Claire, I dinna mean to be noisy". But I had told him anyway.

* * *

"But the main thing was that he had said I wasn't a woman if I could not give him a child. I was just an empty shell of female appearance, there was no much use to me." I inhaled deeply, feeling his eyes on my back when I finally finished. "Truthfully, I don't even know if I am really barren. I don't know who's at fault. Frank never went for a test and I...Well, I could not make myself do it afterwards."

I braced my hands on the opposite sides of the sink trying to compose myself. The swell of tears started to gather in my eyelashes threatening to escape.

"Sassenach."

I heard his quiet steps behind me and I shuddered a sigh thinking how did this evening (a promise of a good sex) turned into something that vaguely reminded me of a soap opera on TV that my neighbor Mrs.Baird watched.

I felt his fingers gently squeezing my shoulder.

"It doesna matter anymore."

"No." I sniffed. "It doesn't."

I turned to him then to be trapped once again by the studying gaze of his blue eyes which now were the reminiscent of storms at sea that promise clear skies. His long fingers brushed away loose curls off my face.

"Do ye need to be alone? Ye want me to go?" He asked softly, hands wrapping around my waist.

"No" I shook my head in protest, suddenly terrified he'd leave. " I don't want you to go."

He nodded.

"I willna. I promise."

On its own accord my forehead dropped against his chest and a sigh of contentment (I did not know was there) escaped my throat. We stood there in each other's embrace long enough for Adso to jump up on the counter to peek at Jamie and I with clear "What are you up to, hoomans?" written on its fluffy face.

"Netflix and chill?" I sniffed, the sound muffled by Jamie's t-shirt. He gave me a lopsided smile when I lifted my head.

"Ye ken what that means, right?"

"I do." I laughed rubbing my eyes, smudged mascara staining my hand.

We indeed watched Netflix. Sitting on a modest distance of each other, under the same plushy throw, still close for our fingers to touch. I was too aware of his presence and closeness that my back started to ache approximately 15 minutes after I sat straight up, afraid to move. But then the wine we drank started to kick in, my body (and mind) relaxing and by thirty minutes into the movie (The Notting Hill I'd made him watch), I found myself in the kingdom of Jamie's warmth, our thighs and hips pressed to one another, his hand wrapped up around my shoulder and my head rested just above his breastbone where I could hear his steady heartbeat. His chin rested on the crown of my head and I could feel his lips slightly brushing above but not kissing just yet. I did not know when and how I fell asleep. Lulled by Jamie's soothing presence I must have dozed off sometime after the credits rolled, last night shifts catching up with me.

I roused to a touch that faintly reminded me the butterflies' wings scattered across my skin. My eyes fluttered open when I could feel Jamie’s warm breath making my skin tingle.

The room was dark, dipped into the heavy night shadows with only thin moonlight sketching a path along the carpet. I had no idea how long I slept only to find myself still on the couch, Jamie’s smile lingering above me. I smiled back feeling his fingers softly caressing the sliver of skin between my jeans and sweater. My back arched instinctively to his touch. He leaned down to press his lips upon mine. It was a lazy kiss, unhurried in the way our mouths melted together, the way he tasted the fullness of my lower lip, the way our tongues sought permission and their slow dance continuing until we both were breathless.

Jamie was looking at me as if he'd seen me for the first time. I could see his eyes move, something faintly reminding me of a tenderness floating at the bottom.

"What?" My lips moved slowly, still numbed by his taste. I touched his cheekbone to see if it feels right for me, for him to do so. How many times would I repeat this simple move? Jamie's fingers had found my hand, turning it palm up.

"I think ye are beautiful, Claire. Verra." His thumb softly outlined my lifeline before he brought my hand up planting a kiss just in the center of it. That simple gesture made me surrender, undid me in fact. I could feel the hot bubbling sensation starting somewhere in my toes rising all the way up to my thighs, my belly, crawling inside my breasts and wrapping around my heart, taking a peek under my skin as if checking is it a suitable place to be here forever?

I dragged my lips over his clavicle that slightly stood out above the collar of his t-shirt, leaving a moist trail of my breath. He smelled earthy, slightly salty with a mix of his cologne. Jamie's breath was shallow and I shifted feeling my arousal build between my thighs. My own abilities to inhale and exhale properly failed me when his fingers dragged the woolen fabric of my sweater up up up until there was nothing to hide. I jerked involuntarily as his auburn curls tickling my skin when his mouth closed over the peak of the left breast. It seemed like a century passed by instead of minutes as his lips moved from one breast to another.

His hand splayed flat on my stomach drawing patterns up and down making me almost beg him to continue just a bit down where I wanted him to be. But before I gathered enough courage to do that his fingers slid under the waistband of my jeans, testing, teasing.

“Jamie” I pleaded with the voice that didn’t sound like my own.

“Do ye want me to stop ?” He asked softly kissing the corner of my mouth.

I did not know if “No” actually left my mouth, but only managed to cling to him in desperate anticipation of my own release. Sensing this, he seemed to slow down on purpose. His mouth hovered above mine, our breaths mixing up as he slipped his hand out (me whimpering in protest and him chuckling, the cocky bastard) to unzip the unnecessary piece of clothing. I raised my hips just enough for Jamie to pull them down to my knees. I was becoming lost in him, forgetting how to breathe. Needing to feel him, I reached for the hem of his t-shirt seeking access to his skin. He ignited a hunger in me, I needed to see him, feel the realness and closeness of him, to be in this moment for my life to have a meaning. Even if it meant just mere minutes.

Pulling the cotton fabric over his head my fingers traced the line of veins that ran along his arm until found where I had mended his flesh with the stitches I had placed. I leaned my head to kiss the spot where the scar would make its presence known. Jamie’s breath hitched and within seconds my lips were trapped by his once again. When we parted with a wet pop his fingers traveled south one more time pushing the grey cotton triangle between my thighs aside. My blood was rushing hot, heart hammering hard against my breastbone. So loud that I thought Jamie could hear. The promising warmth of his fingers drew a map on my inner thighs. Slowly tortuously from one to the other, traveling up to brush over my navel making me pant, and slippery with need.

“I want you inside me” I had whispered then, dragging my tongue over the stubble on his jaw.

“No, a nighean.” He sounded hoarse but dreamily sweet. “I want to watch ye first”.

If it was possible to become undone just from his words, it would have been then. His fingers drew another path, coming home, where I felt hot and greedy for him. I mewled, my hips rising into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders. I kept my eyes shut, fingers leaving marks on his skin, as he drove me down the road of pure sensation. Where my walls had crumbled and fallen down, where he had made me cry out God's name in vain. Where my trembling hands had managed to unbuckle his belt and in a swift motion pull his jeans down, Jamie's feet trapped in them, laughing hard. His moan that sounded more like a hiss when I ran my palm at the length of him, tagging his white boxers off. When all the sharp fences alongside my soul started to crouch down and fade away as our bodies joined. I gasped feeling the saltiness of tears rising up from my belly all the way to my throat because this felt like coming home, suddenly he felt like home. When the lonely tear had rolled down my cheek, into the hollow of my neck, to the fields of my curls (I did not know where it came from) I heard him whisper "mo ghraidh". It had no meaning for me but the way Jamie's lips imprinted those words into the column of my neck destroyed the last barricades I had built over my soft and sensitive, scarred heart.

After a time we were both gasping for air as fish landed on the shore his solid body pinning me down on the cushions. I whispered, "Jamie, you're crushing me".

He hummed a quiet apology. With eyes still veiled by an overtaking orgasm, he rolled off me and gathered me closer to him. His hands wrapped up around my waist, back pressed to his chest. I thought I heard him murmur something into my hair (that faintly sounded as ancient Gàidhlig) before after-sex slumber had taken us both to its realm.

* * *

The nagging ache in my lower back that I usually had from falling asleep on the couch (after a particularly hard shift at the hospital) was something that woke me up. I thought I was suffocating from the realness of the dream I had but it was just Adso who curled like a cinnamon bun on top of my chest.

I was alone. (not that I was really surprised)

But somewhere deep inside I felt a painful sting of bitterness to find myself in the reality of lonely-morning-post-one-night-stand. I reached for my phone with a stupid hope that maybe Jamie had texted me. Nothing.

"Looks like we are back to normal, baby" I sighed scratching Adso behind the ears.

The Edinburgh's skies were gloomy, heavy with a promise of rain. I stared into the window but did not really see anything behind it. The soft knock took me out of my stupor.

"I used the last of yer shampoo.I figured ye wouldna mind." Jamie stood in the doorway, his hair damp from the shower, now two shades darker, like autumn leaves.

My mouth dropped open as I just watched him casually stroll and make himself comfortable in the chair.

"And, Christ, Sassenach, but yer cat does fart like a freakin' raccoon."

"Does it?" I whispered.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #once i was an eagle #maviemeregles fic #jamie x claire #modern au #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #this chapter has drained me these wee soft babies

98 notes · View notes