#outlanderfanfic

[ladyviolethummingbird]

Hello to anyone out there still reading Outlander fanfic! 😀

Cue the titanic lady saying it’s been 87 years, but I’ve finally written some more of The Gloaming (my Outlander X Jane Eyre fic) and will be posting a new chapter today.

Hope you’re having a lovely Monday xx

[aussieoutlanderao3]

Sorry it’s been a while. If anyone’s still interested…

practice.

70

Birth Class.

“Oh, my God. This is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen…”

“Oh, fuck. What is that?”

“Oh, God, is that her guts?”

“Jesus, what just came out of her?”

“Is that the baby? Oh, oh God….”

Birth class didn’t go well.

[dianaforever]

Chapters: 25/? Fandom: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp/Frank Randall Characters: Murtagh Fraser, Jamie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp, Mrs. Graham (Outlander), Frank Randall Additional Tags: Post-Battle of Culloden, Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Season/Series 03, Outlander Season 3 Summary:

On another day perhaps I will have time for regret, but not today, no not this bloody day.

[jensky2000]

Chapters: 30 “Fate”  Jamie's frustrations build. Claire works to make things right.

Hello!

Our story has come to end. I have enjoyed writing this one. As I hope you have enjoyed reading it too. (There will be an epilogue to follow soon.)

Thank you for all your love, encouragement and support. I couldn't do this without you. I can wait to read and respond to all your comments. I'm slightly behind. Your support during this tough time has been amazing. Love to all! 😘

Enjoy ❤️J

[ladyviolethummingbird]

One of my all time faves. Love to see it across my timeline again!

Our Son, The Wedding Morning, Chapter 16.

Moodboard by the lovely @balfeheughlywed

I was grateful for three things the night before the wedding; firstly, that I had the good mind before Jamie left, to ask him to keep Willie that night, I had a hairdresser’s appointment with Jenny the next morning being my main excuse. Number two was that Jenny wanted to go to bed early due to her lingering hangover, which consequently meant I didn’t have to sit up drinking champagne and trying not to let her see I had been an emotional wreck moments before. Number three was the sleeping tablets I had brought with me for flying, I swallowed one and downed two glasses of wine from the fridge. I barely remembered my head touching the pillow.

I woke the following morning and gave myself a stern talking to, I felt fresh, rested and my fighting spirit had returned. I owed Jenny Fraser soon to be Murray a lot and today was her day, it was not about me or Jamie. I intended to put my best foot forward and appreciate her special day, also make equally sure everything was as it should be for her.

We returned to Lallybroch from a giggly morning sipping champagne in the hairdressers. The morning was ladies only, with the male party getting ready in Jamie’s cottage. I hadn’t spotted him that morning, and I was thankful of that in order to keep my newly positive attitude ongoing. 

A beautician was coming to the main house to do our make-up. We laughed and reminisced about Jenny’s early days with Ian, Ellen telling funny stories about Jamie and Jenny as children. We went up to Jenny’s room to get dressed, Dressing Jenny first, she looked stunning, one of the most beautiful brides I had ever seen. Ellen placed a pearl necklace around her neck and said “yer something old love”, Jenny smiled back and said “aye and I ken ye told me I have to give them back”, Ellen nodded, “that is right they are Jamie’s to give to his wife, when he weds.” she looked at me softly and said “and I dinna think Claire would appreciate ye taking them on her.”

“I don’t think so Ellen” I said smiling and shaking my head, face downcast. Hoping to god that the tears threatening to fall didn’t show in my eyes. “Dinna laugh at me” Ellen said playfully. “Jamie Fraser has nay had eyes for anyone since ye came with Lamb four years ago, isna that right Janet?”

Jenny rolled her eyes at her mother “will ya stop mam ye are embarrassing Claire, ye will not be happy until he produces that ring again!” Jenny said breezily, admiring herself in the full length mirror as she spoke.

“What ring?” I stuttered out. Jenny’s eyes went wide for a minute and she threw an imploring look at Ellen. Whatever she had said, it was a mistake.

Ellen looked at me and took my two hands in hers, “its nay Jenny’s story to tell aye…she shouldna said anything.”

My eyes filled with tears, Ellen sighed and took a moment to think, she pressed her lips together and cautiously said “he brought a ring to Boston before, please dinna ask any more Claire cause I really canna say.” Ellen blurted and then threw a stern look at the bride.

Silence consumed the room. I kept looking at my ring finger. Did Ellen mean Jamie had come to Boston to propose? When?

“Well then” Jenny cleared her throat and said “I think it is time we went downstairs to see what Da thinks of us.” I tried to rid my dazzled brain of all thoughts of rings and made my way down stairs holding Jenny’s train.

_________

Jenny had come to Boston to shop for her wedding and bridesmaid dress, we had a boozy lunch and then hit the bridal boutiques. Jenny had let me feel in control of what I choose, although I knew she had an exact design in mind and until we hit on it we would play the “ach that is lovely Claire but I dinna think it suits ye” game. Eventually for her own dress, she settled on a 40’s style vintage gown with beautiful lace detail. Jenny had steered me towards, a two piece dress, the skirt was tulle and floaty, it was icy blue in color. Jenny said it matched the Fraser eyes, I remember standing in the shop and thinking of Jamie’s eyes, not Willies or Jenny’s but Jamie’s, absently remembering they were much bluer and warmer than the skirt.

The top was white silk, a round neck and sleeveless. Jenny seen my hesitance at wearing something so girlie, sold it by saying “Ach Claire, it has pockets for yer wee bits”. Practicality out winning for me, secretly I wanted to look good. Even over a year ago when I picked that dress, I bought it thinking of what Jamie would think of me when he saw me in it. Now walking back up to my cottage to retrieve my camera and phone, hair piled on top of my head and a warm breeze hitting my face, I felt positively swishy and girl like, a very uncommon feeling for me.

Approaching my cottage I spotted Ian, Jamie and Willie outside having their photos taken by the photographer. Jamie had his hand draped around Ian’s shoulder and was holding Willie in his arms, he looked decadent, breath takingly handsome and my heart released a pang for him and only for him. I tried to brush it off and proceeded on to see them, “Oh my, you boys scrub up well!” I announced cheerfully. Jamie was going to get my friendliest version of me for the day, it was his sister’s wedding and whatever was going on between us, I knew I cared enough about him to make sure he enjoyed it too.

They hadn’t spotted me until I spoke, so when they turned to look Ian’s broad smile and whistling gesture made me blush. Jamie’s mouth hung open a little, eyes wider than normal, a little pride ran from the pit of my tummy to my face at the affect I had on him. He didn’t speak. I went to fix the flower in Willie’s lapel, he wrapped his little arms around my neck and said “yer the prettiest girl here mama”, I tut tutted him and said “you haven’t seen your aunty Jenny yet.” When I looked up Jamie was staring at me, he quickly glanced away.

The photographer on seeing me, checked a list from his pocket and said “the bride has asked that we get one shot of her brother, his son and Claire?” eyebrows creased in question to see if I was Claire. “yep that is me” I said helpfully. “Great can I get one of you over by the tree.” Jamie, Willie and I made for the tree, Willie taking a hand each and swinging between us, shouting eagerly “look at me mama” and “higher Da”. The photographer probably seeing this family scene unfold before him presumed wrongly Jamie was my husband, and I his wife. “ok if you two can bend down on your hunkers as if chatting to your little lad there”, we both willingly obliged, “now Jamie if you can put your arm around your wife’s shoulders, yes just like that…” Jamie didn’t correct him just followed his instructions. “Aye that’s it and if ye two can look at each other, and wee Willie here can look up at ye”, the photographer continued. “Jamie I don’t think…”, I tried to point out these poses were going to appear if we were man and wife if we didn’t correct him. “ssh Claire, let the man do his work” was all I got in response from Jamie, he has to look directly at me for the pose, he took it to another level by boring into my eyes. The second time the photographer referred to me as Jamie’s wife, I opened my mouth to speak, Jamie just squeezed my shoulder tighter. Suddenly the ring and him bringing it to Boston was foremost in my mind and I couldn’t bring myself to say it either. The photographer positioned us into a pose and snapped several times, finally saying, “they are great thank you, ye are a good looking family.”

By the time we were finished with the photographer, Ian was standing near the tree waiting. I presumed they had to get more shots taken and made to head for the cottage. Ian called me back “Claire can I have a quick word?” Jamie shot him a look and Ian offered “just something I have for Jenny…” Jamie’s face relaxed slightly and I made to walk up to my cottage with Ian.

I waited looking at Ian expectantly once we reached the cottage, “are you ok Ian? You look nervous?” he was looking over my shoulder for a minute and he looked back at me absentmindedly “Mmm…oh aye ya just a wee bit nervous…how is Jenny” he started, “Oh she is so excited, she looks amazing, wait until you see her”, I replied.

His face lit up at hearing about Jenny, and then grew serious again, “I eh..I..actually wanted to talk to ye about Jamie, Claire.” My face instantly went red, “what…I mean..what do you want to say about Jamie?” I stuttered out.

“weel”, he started, “I heard Laoghaire came by his place yesterday and said somethings to ye that were unpleasant” he said the last word as if he had dirt in his mouth. “She didn’t actually say anything to me, but she made sure I heard” I explained, my gaze stuck to the ground, humiliation creeping up on me again at the memory. “Aye weel, Jamie isna good at … the truth of it Claire is that when it comes to ye, Jamie loses all sensible reason…so I wanted to speak to ye on his behalf as such…although I ken fine well he may no appreciate it.” He pursed his lips and bowed his head, for reassurance he could continue.

I swallowed and nodded, “Ian this is your wedding day, you don’t need to worry yourself about me or Jamie, honestly we are both grown-ups”, I said smiling. I really didn’t want this, Ian did not have to take up his time with Jamie or me, especially today.

“No Claire” he said surely, “I do.”

“I set Jamie up with Laoghaire a couple of months back, she is a cousin of mine…aye?” he blurted out. Seeing I wasn’t interrupting, he kept going.

“Claire…I ken you may no feel like believing Jamie at the moment but I hope ye have some faith in what I tell ye”, a shy smile appearing on his lips.

“The thing is …well…Jamie has never moved on really from ye since ye came that first time and Willie or no, I think he always hoped that there might be some future for ye…he hadna well…he hadna passed too much heed to any woman since Willie was born and to be honest Claire, I dinna think it was healthy…then when Jenny and I went to Boston to visit ye, I kent ye were dating, nothing serious Jenny tells me but I felt…well I should tell him…Aye?”

I nodded again, wondering how Jamie had felt about my sporadic unsuccessful dates, yet he wouldn’t have known that they were just that unsuccessful.

Ian wavered before speaking again “so I pushed him a bit to take Laoghaire out…waste of bloody time” he rolled his eyes “even if she didn’t require the patience of jobe…his heart is set on you Claire and when ye came back, even a blind man could see how he is about ye”.

Ian reached forward and squeezed my shoulder “I ken he had a notion ye might let Willie come here for a year to school and that…but Claire ye would be wrong in thinking that is just about having Willie here!” he raised his eyebrows and said, “for god sake Claire, the man has started building ye a house!” Ian’s exasperation clear in his voice. “It’s for Willie”, I said meekly. Ian let a long sigh out and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, whatever he wanted to say, he was clearly deciding whether he should tell me or not. Eventually he said “I saw those plans, afore he started building did ye ken that?” his mouth curled to one side. “no, Jamie said only his parents had seen it”, “aye that is true, he dinna bring me up yet, but before he started building, he got me to take a look at the plans see what I thought”, “oh ok”, I replied not really knowing where Ian was going with this. “written over yer little apartment was no ‘Claire’s apartment or granny flat, do ye ken what he called it?” I shook my head. “Claire’s surgery.” I swallowed hard, I could feel a lump climbing up my throat.

“Anyway”, he continued trying to steer away from me breaking down altogether, “Laoghaire may well turn up today…not as Jamie’s guest”, he added quickly, “she had been invited as she is family”, another eye roll. “I just dinna want ye thinking that she is here because of Jamie” a sheepish expression on his face. “I would say how he is feeling right now, he would gladly fire her into the mill and watch her float downstream!” Ian paused an intake of breath “it’s too late to uninvite her, as she will only cause a stramish…and Jenny will no be pleased.” We laughed at that “but I am sorry she is here and I am more sorry, I interfered at all, I shouldna have told Jamie ye were dating in Boston…its only I got the impression ye maybe were no pining after him…like he was after you…and well after Inverness…” colour creeping into Ian’s cheeks, “I can see that is no the case, ye have something special Claire, dinna throw it away”, Ian let out a sigh of relief at telling his part in all of this ��god this marrit thing has gone to me head, I sound like bloody Oprah”, he finished laughing.

[renee-writer]

Rules: Make a new post and post your latest line from your WIP & tag as many people as there are words you want.

From the next chapter of Baby Girl. Thank you @omgbarbiegurl

“I believe he lives in his adopted parents home, in Glasgow.” He looks up the information and they are soon on the way.

Tagging

@outlanderfanfics @ladymeraud @writersofworld @writings-of-a-narwhal

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 12 ~Seeing Green~

Previously in What's Brewing Claire?

He took Claire's hand in his, and she turned his way and smiled. Her face looked pale, but there was an aura of tranquillity radiating from her that told him she was happy and content. Though her plate was full of food, it remained untouched, and if anyone had noticed, no one said anything. "How are ye feeling, Sassenach?"

She took a huge deep breath, held it in for a few seconds and then relaxed. "I'm fine," she sighed. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

He knew she was valiantly fighting back the sickness that must be creating havoc in her body but was too stubborn to give in to it. "Shall we tell them about the surprise so you can finally have a rest?" he suggested in a low voice, so no one would hear. "It cannae be comfortable sitting here when ye feel so unwell."

She shook her head as she gulped in more air. "I want to wait for uncle Lamb. He'll be here soon."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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  *WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL & LANGUAGE CONTENT*

  Claire woke up to a soft knock and opened her eyes to see Ellen's head popped out from behind the door. 

"Hullo dear, may I come in?" The older woman smiled, the distinguished lines of her face shining with classical beauty and strength, even more striking with her copper hair tied back in a simple chignon. 

Claire let out an involuntary groan as she looked around and noticed the bedroom in disarray and the untouched food Jamie had prepared for her this morning on the bedside table. She felt embarrassed. She'd been suffering from severe morning sickness ever since that afternoon tea party she'd hosted that she hadn't been able to leave bed for the last couple of days. Though nibbling peppermint leaves and ginger helped staved nausea, it hadn't been enough to help keep any food down in her tummy.

"Ach, Claire, ye poor thing," Ellen sighed as she walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. Claire made an attempt to get up, but Ellen shook her head. "Dinnae try to get up just yet, pet. First, we talk. I want to see what I can do to help ye out of this misery."

"I'm sorry about the mess," she croaked, sinking back into her pillow.

Ellen brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and smiled. "Dinnae fash about it. Jamie is worried sick. He said ye wouldnae let him stay at home to take care of ye."

"No wonder. Jamie kept checking up on me every minute, and it was driving me insane, so I made him go to work so I can suffer in peace." Claire laughed at her feeble attempt to make a joke.

Ellen patted her hand. "He's worried ye havenae eaten at all these past few days. That's no' good for the baby, dear. We have to try to get some food into ye."

"I can't stomach any food, but I've been keeping myself hydrated." Claire pointed at the mug of herbal tea and a couple of bottles of mineral water she had nearby. "I think the baby is a picky eater."

"Weel, I believe the problem is that Jamie hasn't been giving ye the right food, and I'm here to sort that out."

"You don't have to do that," Claire almost wailed out loud, not wanting to impose. "How about you write down what I need, and I'll sort it out myself."

Ellen tutted and shook her head. "I figured ye might say that. Ye're just as stubborn as my offsprings, if not more, when it comes to getting help. So ..." She clapped her hands on her thighs. "Brian is out and about doing errands, and since I have nought to do until later this afternoon, I thought I'd make myself useful here." Standing up, she placed her hands over her hips and looked Claire over as if trying to determine what task to tackle first. "First, I need ye to get up and take a shower," she ordered. "Yer bedsheets need changing, and that top ye have on looks it could do with a wash."

"But ..."

"Nae buts, young lady. Chop, chop ...up ye go."

Claire tilted her chin in defiance and was about to protest some more when something made her stop. She noticed the stern expression on Ellen's face and had a brief glimpse of what it would have been like to grow up with a mother. Realising there was no room for argument when the Fraser matriarch made up her mind and set her foot down, Claire clamped her mouth shut. Though Ellen was the gentlest and kindest soul, unfortunately, she could also be like a dog with a bone whenever it suited her. Too weak to argue, Claire got up in a huff and stomped off to the bathroom.

When she was done taking a shower, dried herself off thoroughly and put on a fresh nightshirt, she opened the bathroom door to find Ellen fluffing her pillow. 

Ellen patted the bed. "Now that ye're all nice and fresh again, ye can rest a wee bit more while I sort out some food," she announced, pulling back the sheets.

Suddenly feeling exhausted all over again, Claire could only nod her head and crawl back under the covers. The moment her head landed on the pillow, she fell once more into a restless sleep.

Somewhere at the back of her mind, she knew Ellen was buzzing around the cottage, cleaning up and cooking up a storm in the kitchen. A couple of times when Ellen had woken her up to make her sip soda water mixed with grapefruit juice, Claire had attempted to send her home, which had been, of course, a futile endeavour. She had to admit, though, it felt good having someone else there with a mother's touch to take care of her. Jamie had always done a great job tending to her needs, but the way he constantly worried, hovered about, and over-fussed drove her crazy. Ellen knew exactly what to do and never had to ask every few seconds if she was alright. It was as if she had everything under control. But Claire wasn't surprised at all. After raising three children, running a large manor and managing rental cottages on the side, taking care of a sickly pregnant woman had to be child's play for Ellen.

Sometime near early afternoon, she woke up to Ellen walking into the bedroom with a tray of food. Her stomach grumbled for the first time in days when she caught a whiff of chicken broth. She immediately sat up and fixed the pillows behind her back.

"Ah, nice to see some colour back in yer cheeks," Ellen observed, placing the bed tray over Claire's lap. "Now, let's get some food into ye. This should do ye a world of good."

Claire looked down at the bowl of clear broth and a plate of saltines. She waited for the wave of nausea to hit her, but when none came, she relaxed and smiled. "Thank you so much. It smells wonderful." 

"Ye're welcome, dear. I've taken out the wee bits in the broth to start ye off and get yer tummy used to eating again," Ellen explained, grabbing the empty mug and bottles from the bedside table. 

Claire hummed happily as she slurped the broth from her spoon. "Mmm ...this is so good. Jamie has made me all sorts of food, even my favourites, but I can't seem to keep them down."

"The trick is to eat bland food, and wee meals spread throughout the day. And always keep saltine crackers with ye and nibble on it once in a while. It has sodium bicarbonate that should soothe the tummy acids."

"I should have taken the time to read about morning sickness and what food to eat," Claire said in between bites of the cracker. "I hope this will do the trick. Otherwise, I have to get a doctor to put me on an IV drip if I don't get any nutrients into my body. At least, that's what Jamie told me."

Ellen nodded. "Aye, in a worst-case scenario, that's what would happen. But I have another thing in mind that should also help with the pregnancy illness. It helped a lot of the pregnant women folk around here."

Claire's curiosity was piqued. "Oh, what's that?"

"Have ye heard of Yi Tien Cho?"

"Yi Tien, what?"

Ellen chuckled. "Not what! Who! You probably have heard of him by another name. The folks around here call him Mr Willoughby."

Claire nearly choked. "The bloke with feet fetish?"

Ellen waved a hand in dismissal. "Mr Willoughby is a reflexologist, among many other things. That's probably where the feet fetish rumours come from. He runs a wellness centre and practices traditional Eastern medicine. Actually, I find his methods quite effective when it comes to treating many ailments." She leaned over and kissed Claire on the forehead. "Finish yer broth. We'll talk about it some more over a mug of herbal tea out in the garden so ye can have some fresh air about ye. And if ye're well enough, I'll take ye there later for some therapy."

Claire watched Ellen leave the room. She wasn't going to argue because already she was feeling so much better. She was willing to try anything once if it would help her get back on her feet. There were still so many things to do before the wedding. The sooner she was up and about running, the better.

..........

Jamie tugged a fresh shirt on and gathered his things. He was leaving work early even though he knew Claire would be miffed with him for coming home so soon to check on her. It couldn't be helped when there was always that worry about her and their baby slinking into his mind, distracting him while operating heavy machinery. Willie had already warned him that it wouldn't bode well for any of them if he had an accident for not concentrating. So Jamie had decided to call it a day.

He was about to slide into his vehicle when he heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel.

"Ah, there ye are, son! I've been looking everywhere for ye."

Jamie spun on his feet and saw his father walking towards him. "Da! What are ye doing here?"

Brian smiled, the lines on the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jamie had to pause for a bit to take in his father's likeness to his older brother in mannerisms and carriage. If his father hadn't spoken, Jamie would have thought it was Willie approaching at first glance. 

"I heard ye're done for the day. Fancy humouring yer auld man for a quick pint before ye head for home?"

Jamie ran a hand through his sweat-damped hair. "I'd love to, da, but I need to check on Claire."

Brian clapped Jamie on the back. "Yer ma has everything under control. In fact, Claire has eaten already and hasn't thrown up."

"Oh?" Jamie was surprised. He'd tried everything to make Claire eat, even preparing her favourite food, but she'd pushed everything away. He'd already thought about taking her to the hospital to get her into IV fluids and vitamin supplements. "How'd she managed to get her to eat?"

"Ach, ye ken well all about yer ma's trusted chicken broth. It has always done wonders whatever the ailment. If it's good enough for her bairns, then it's good enough for Claire."

Jamie suddenly perked up at the thought of Claire feeling better again. "Weel, all the more, I should head home." He felt like a selfish bastard for putting his needs before anything or anyone else's, but the ache in his balls from desperately wanting Claire couldn't be ignored. "I'm sorry, da. Maybe another time?"

Brian shrugged. "Up to ye, son, but ye'll be going to an empty cottage."

"And why is that?"

"Yer ma took Claire to that Oriental Holistic centre for some sort of wellness therapy that's supposed to help her with morning sickness. That's why I'm here asking ye out for a pint." Brian pulled out a flyer from his pocket and handed it to Jamie. "Ye ken Mr Willoughby, aye? He runs the place."

"Aye, Yi Tien Cho. Nice fella but always seems to be in a hurry to talk," Jamie replied. He read the advertising on a piece of paper and was astounded at the number of health programmes on offer. "They sure provide a lot of services in this wellness centre. Aromatherapy, ear candling, hypnotherapy, reflexology, to name a few." Then he laughed. "They even have Ayurvedic Kamasutra consultation as part of their sex therapy session. Now that's a first here in Broch Mordha."

Brian grinned. "Isnae Kamasutra all about the art of erotic."

"Aye, something like that. I think it's a Sanskrit text with some ancient Hindu teaching about sexuality and complex sexual positions."

"I cannae imagine Mr Willoughby giving lessons in Kamasutra," Brian said, shaking his head in amusement. "But dinnae fash, Claire and yer ma are no' there for Kamasutra consultation. They're there for ladies' afternoon."

Ladies' afternoon? Jamie flipped the other side of the piece of paper and went through the part he'd already read. "Ladies afternoon ye say?"

"Aye," Brian replied. "Yer ma likes to attend ladies' afternoon once a month. It's a creative activity group, and it's called art therapy or something like that. She says it suppose to expand her creative growth and promote stress relief and all that mumbo jumbo. She must have probably thought it would benefit Claire as well."

Jamie balled the piece of paper in his hand after he'd finished reading what the Ladies' afternoon entailed. He stared at his father in disbelief. 

"What? Why are ye staring at me like that for?"

"Christ, da! Have ye any idea what this ladies' afternoon is?"

This time Brian frowned. "What do ye mean?"

"Ye send yer wife ...m-my ma ...to a place where she could paint a bollock naked man? What the bloody hell has that to do with wellness and holistic?"

"What?"

Jamie glared at his father. "Aye, I thought so. Right this very minute, ma and Claire are staring at and painting a naked model's tadger. How could ye have not known?"

"Let me see that flyer," Brian demanded, holding out his hand.

Jamie uncrumpled the piece of paper and handed it back to his father. 

Brian skimmed through the flyer, and the more he read about what the Ladies' afternoon was all about, the bigger his eyes became. "Painting a nude man, if you tackle it, is a very fascinating subject, especially for a woman," Brian read the last bit out loud before throwing the flyer away in disgust, his face suddenly turning a dangerous shade of colour red. "I dinnae ken about ye, son, but I'm off to get my wife out of there."

"Aye, me too," Jamie agreed, sliding into his vehicle. "Ye take yer own car. Claire and I'll need our privacy on the way back home."

Brian nodded. "I'll meet ye there at the entrance."

"See ye in ten." 

Fuming, Jamie reversed his four-wheel drive and followed his father's car. He'd already decided there, and then there was no way was he going to allow Claire to stare at another man's naked bits. If she wanted to paint a naked man, by all means, but it would have to be his naked body and his cock. This was one argument he definitely wasn't planning on backing down from, come hell or high water.

..........

"...I was found early to have skill in composition ...to make the images of my brush resemble the ideas that dance like cranes within my mind. I became known as the fung-wong, a bird of fire ..." Yi Tien Cho delivered as he paced the small circular stage, mesmerisingly waving a stick in the air. The Chinese immigrant might be tiny in frame and stature, but his presence commanded the room with confidence and aplomb as he briefly spoke of an earlier time in his life.

Ellen looked at Claire and smiled conspiratorially. "Ye enjoying yersel'?"

Claire nodded and smiled back, feeling a million times better, her morning sickness almost a distant memory. She was only half-listening to Yi Tien Cho, more focused on the subject of their painting and the technique she wanted to use. Her mother's hobby had been painting, and Claire wanted to create something that would honour that memory. She glanced at the art supplies around her and realised she could use any medium she wanted and wouldn't be restricted to limited methods.

She loosened her shoulders and stared at the blank canvas before her, trying to summon memories of her mother. She took a deep breath, the air subtly smelling of burning incense stick as soft oriental music played in the background, helping her relax and focus. Even the voice of Yi Tien Cho was beginning to calm her, taking her to that place in her mind where creativity could spread its wings and take flight.

"Before picking up a brush, the most important thing to ask yourself is, 'What do I wish to convey?'" Yi Tien Cho emphasised. "Your answers will determine how you proceed and what you need to focus on the subject. So that said, we can continue to ..."

Unexpectedly there was a loud bang as the double doors flew wide open, hitting the walls and making Claire, Ellen and the rest of the group jumped up from their seats. To everyone's astonishment, two very annoyed Fraser males stood in the doorway, their faces red and eyes scanning the room.

"Ellen MacKenzie Fraser!" Brian bellowed.

A litany of colourful words came from Jamie the moment his eyes landed on Claire, making her and Ellen winced.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" she muttered, grabbing Ellen's hand. "What's gotten into them two?"

"Heaven knows, but I'll be smacking their addled heads any second now if they continue with this nonsense."

"Ahh, good afternoon, Mr Jamie, Mr Brian," Yi Tien Cho greeted, seemingly unfazed by the disturbance. "It is ladies' afternoon, but you are both more than welcome to join us now that you are here. We have empty seats here in front if you will take your place. And perhaps a cup of tea first to improve the flow of your chi?"

"There's nothing wrong with my chi!" Brian barked. "I'm here to take my wife home."

Yi Tien Cho smiled and nodded before turning his attention to Jamie. "And how about you, Mr Jamie?"

Jamie shook his head stiffly. "I'm sorry, but the only naked man my fiancée will be painting today is me."

Ellen gasped as the room erupted into a mixture of hoots and catcalls.

"W-what the hell are you on about?" Claire stammered, ignoring the howls and jests.

Jamie and Brian glanced at the stage and then stared at each other, unsure what to do or say next.

"Brian!" Ellen snapped, jolting her husband to look at her.

"Jamie?" Claire questioned more calmly than Ellen.

"I ...ah ... dinnae like the idea of ye looking at another man's..." Jamie shrugged, his eyes darting to the audience as if, for the first time, he just realised there was a roomful of people watching and listening.

"Another man's wot?" Claire looked back at the stage where the subject for today's painting stood, then back once more at Jamie. Then it suddenly hit her. "Are you trying to tell me you're bleeding jealous of a clay statue replica of Michaelangelo's David?" She blew out a breath in exasperation. "Jesus, Jamie, I was planning on painting the upper body because from where I'm sat, my view of the statue's cock is virtually nil."

Yi Tien Cho cleared his throat. "Umm ...Ms Claire, may I remind you, in this room, we call the male's genitalia phallus."

Claire glared at Yi Tien Cho, but before she could say anything, Ellen had already stormed off in the direction of the doorway.

"Now listen to me, ye giant clowns," Ellen began, waving a paintbrush at Jamie's and Brian's faces to the delight of their audience. "The both of ye are gonnae go home like good husbands and let us be to spend an afternoon of relaxation. Because if not ..." She tapped the brush on her husband's chest. "I willnae be coming home. And as for ye ..." She pointed at Jamie. "I'll come and stay in yer cottage for the night."

Jamie didn't need telling twice as he grabbed his father's shoulder and started to pull him away until they were out of sight. After Ellen shut the door, she turned around and smiled with glee. "So, where were we then?"

Grinning, Yi Tien Cho clapped his hands. "Alright, Mr Gordon. You may come in now," he shouted against his cupped hand.

To Claire's shock and the loud appreciative whoops in the room, a handsome man in his mid-thirties confidently walked onto the stage and dropped the sheets covering his body. The spotlight highlighted the carved muscles under his oiled skin, and the nude coloured briefs hugged the crucial bits, leaving the rest of his flesh proud and exposed. 

Claire watched in fascination as Gordon posed into his position, still wondering how this session could be considered remedial. But already, she could hear the sharp scratching sound on canvases as some began to make rough outlines for their painting while Ellen worked on which angle of their subject to capture most.

Claire leaned towards Ellen and spoke through the side of her mouth. "And how is painting a semi-naked man supposed to be therapeutic and help my morning sickness?"

Ellen smiled without looking at her. "Ye'll see."

With no choice but to go with the flow, Claire allowed the pull of the paintbrush to take over. For a while, she forgot everything else, engrossed with the lines and planes of the subject. She never painted like her mother, but occasionally, she dabbled with creating something with colours. This, though, was different. She'd never painted an animate object, least of all a half-naked man. The voyeur inside her broke free, and she had permission to trespass another person's privacy safely from a distance. She pushed the barriers away and forced herself out of her comfort zone to capture the perfect essence, and when she was done, she realised she was the only one left painting, and most had gathered behind her. 

Her audience complimented her as Ellen nudged her shoulder. "Ye've done a fabulous job. I didnae ken ye paint so well."

Claire plonked her paintbrush into a jar of water and sat back to look at her finished work. "My mum used to paint. I still have most of her stuff. I feel painting brings me closer to her."

"So ...how do you feel?"

"I feel good ..." Claire grinned, slumping into her seat. "...and so far, no nausea."

Her audience dispersed, and Yi Tien Cho appeared from nowhere. "Aah, very good to know, Ms Claire. I'm thrilled that this session has proven helpful to your condition."

Claire tilted her head back and looked back and forth between Ellen and Yi Tien Cho, still unsure how the sitting had helped her morning sickness. "But how can we be sure it's not the chicken broth I had earlier that helped with the morning sickness?"

"The chicken broth isnae an instant cure," Ellen pointed out. "The fact that ye havenae touched yer saltines since lunchtime and ye're no' feeling ill means the painting therapy worked."

"But how?"

Yi Tien Cho tapped the air with an index finger. "That, Ms Claire, was an example of mind over matter."

"Mind over matter?" Claire repeated, looking at him warily.

"Yes, it kind of works like meditation," he explained. "When ye're painting or doing something creative, you don't have an option but to disregard everything around you and use the right side of your brain ..." He tapped the side of his head. "...moreso when it's challenging and complex as painting a human form. You see, your right brain is the one that helps you relax and cultivate present moment awareness. When you are in that state, every aspect of you is calm and the hormones in harmony. And when everything is balanced within you ..." He clapped his hands in the air. "Voilà! Nausea gone!"

"As simple as that?" Claire queried, looking at him in fascination.

He scratched the top of his head. "It doesn't always work for everyone, but when that happens, we use other forms of therapies better suited for the individual's needs."

"Interesting," Ellen murmured, tapping her chin. "Maybe Brian and Jamie could use some of the therapies on offer here to exorcise their crabbiness."

Yi Tien Cho chuckled. "Already sorted, Ms Ellen. When you chased them away, my assistant caught up with them and offered them a Thai massage to help them relax. Both of you should come home to very pliant and obliging partners."

"How'd yer assistant persuaded them to have the massage?" Ellen asked curiously. "Dinnae ken about Jamie, but Brian is funny about strangers touching him."

Yi Tien Cho smiled broadly. "No need. The masseuses aren't only competent, but they're also extremely attractive and, how should I say ....exotic. Now which man could refuse ..."

Claire's head snapped up. "Come again?"

Yi Tien Cho's eyes widened as he realised his error. "It's not what you think," he said, raising both his hands, his one eye ticking uncontrollably. "Mr Brian and Mr Jamie remained fully clothed while the masseuse stretched them into poses until they found their release."

Release? Ellen and Claire looked at each other, and without missing a beat, they both started grabbing their things, muttering excuses about making dinner. Yi Tien Cho could only look on with dismay, wondering what he'd done wrong. But Claire's mind kept replaying a mental image of a gorgeous foreign lass touching Jamie as he reached his Nirvana. No bloody way is that happening!

Just as they were about to exit the room, Yi Tien Cho shouted after them. "I think my explanation was lost in translation. What I meant by release is, relieving them of muscle tension and pressure. I would suggest practising breathing exercises before you see your partners. Very highly recommended!"

..........

Jamie was just unwrapping the assorted dim sum he'd ordered twenty minutes ago from a takeaway when Claire walked into the cottage. The colours on her cheeks were back, and she looked radiant in her baby blue dungaree dress, if not a wee bit flustered.

"You're home," she breathed.

"Why shouldnae I be?" he asked, straightening to his full height.

She didn't answer the question; instead, she discarded her jean jacket and dropped it on the sofa along with her oversized bag and proceeded to scratch Rollo's ear.

Jamie ignored the agitation whipping in his belly that had been there since he'd arrived home. After his mother had shooed him and his father away from Claire's painting therapy, they'd ended up having a Thai massage. It had all happened in a blur. One minute he and Brian had been arguing whether to hang around and wait for Ellen and Claire. And then the next, they had been ushered into a massage room. Free of charge, one of the staff had said. 

The massage had been overall good, but throughout the session, he'd been thinking about how happy he was to see Claire feeling better and the plans he had in store for them. Unfortunately, thinking of the plans had resulted in embarrassing himself by getting a full-blown erection. The masseuse had taken this as a sign of interest, and she'd tried to proposition him. Realising the misunderstanding, he'd jumped to his feet and left the massage room in a hurry. He'd almost tripped in the process, trying to get as far away from the girl's advances as possible.

As he'd driven back home, he'd hovered between two choices. Tell Claire about what had happened or keep it to himself. Having heard horror stories about hormonal women in their pregnancy, it was hard to make a decision, but his conscience seemed hell-bent on pushing him to confess. Nothing had happened, and he'd done nothing wrong, but that masseuse might start talking, and he knew what village gossips were like. If the rumours reached Claire, he was sure it would end up being a whole different story, and a misunderstanding could ensue. 

He quickly downed the whisky he'd poured himself earlier in one go, the action catching Claire's eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him, asking without words what that was all about.

Jamie slowly put the tumbler down on the table. "Just fancied a wee bit of drink before dinner," he said, walking over to her and giving her a lingering kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry for barging in yer therapy earlier. Even if it hadnae been a statue ye were painting, I should have known better than to behave the way I did. I guess I was jealous of the thought of ye looking at another man's dick."

"The subject wasn't a statue at all," she replied after a moment. "We painted a half-naked man, and I actually enjoyed it." When he frowned, she quickly shook her head and smiled. "Not at ogling another man's body but the satisfaction of creating an artwork." She tipped her head up to look at him. "How about you? Did you enjoy your massage?"

"How'd ye know about that?" he asked almost defensively.

"Yi Tien Cho might have mentioned it."

Jamie felt his face heat up. He had to tell her. He'd told her he didn't want her keeping secrets from him, and it was just right he was forthright with her too. He swallowed hard and hoped he was doing the right thing. "I ...ah, how shall I say this? I ...sort of embarrassed myself. But it didnae have anything to ..."

She let out a sharp intake of breath, stopping him mid-sentence. "The masseuse was that good, is that it?" Jamie thought he saw a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, but it was gone before he could decipher it any further. "So, did you find her pretty?" she asked, the question catching him off guard.

"Aye, she was ..." he said truthfully. "But it had nought to do with ..."

She pushed him away with both hands and marched towards the bedroom.

He groaned inwardly. "Sassenach! It wasnae like that!" he appealed, walking behind her. 

"Was it not? Seems pretty straightforward case to me," she grumbled, flicking on the lights to the room.

"It's not what ye think."

"Since when did you become an expert on what I think?"

"Sassenach, please let me explain ..."

She plonked herself on the edge of the bed and glared at him, frantically tugging off her sandals and kicking them off. "What's there to explain? The masseuse was good at what she does, she's attractive, and your body reacted. Pretty male standard stuff, I would say." She shot to her feet and stormed past him. "There's nothing more to talk about!"

Jesus Christ, this cannae be happening! He took two long strides and grabbed her arm before she reached the bathroom and spun her to face him. Feeling bewildered at her outburst, he stared at her flushed face trying to discern what lurked behind those amber eyes. She was usually the level headed and calm one between them, and seeing her react like this over a lass was a novelty. He'd prepared himself for the eventuality of a gamut of mood swings that usually accompanied pregnancy, but this was different. This was way too unreasonable behaviour coming from her, even if hormone changes had something to do with it. 

Slowly realisation dawned on him, and it was clear as day, and he couldn't help but grin like a pillock. 

"What's so funny?" she hissed.

"Ye're jealous."

Sputtering, she tried to twist her arm out of his grasp. "I beg your pardon?"

"My beautiful Sassenach is jealous. I cannae believe it."

"No, I'm not!"

"Aye, ye are. Admit it!"

"You've no idea how close you are to getting your balls ripped off!"

Jamie crowded her space, not giving Claire any room to escape. She tried to sidestep him, but he merely walked her backwards until her back hit the wall. 

He tipped her face up with a finger under her chin and shook his head. "I dinnae ken whether to be amused or annoyed with ye right now. Ye're jumping to conclusions without giving me the time of day to explain. By now, it should be very clear to ye that ye're the only woman who could stir things inside me, turn my world upside down and slip that sense of rightness back into place ...right in here." He thumped his chest to make a point. "If ye'd allowed me to talk, then ye would have known that the hard-on I was walking around with had to do with thoughts of ye. The masseuse assumed I was reacting to her touch, and when she propositioned me, I was out of there before she could even finish her sentence."

Claire's eyes narrowed, studying his face closely as if judging the sincerity of his confession. In a way, Jamie was glad he'd told her, and he was hoping they could move on from this and enjoy the rest of their evening. If she needed space, he'd give her that, but he wouldn't allow her to think the worse, especially when her emotions were all over the place.

"So, you didn't stay?" she asked.

He feathered kisses across her forehead, then down along her cheek. "Ye have nothing to be jealous of, mo chridhe," he whispered. "Ye ken well ye rule my entire universe." He felt her body relaxed, her soft breaths fanning his neck, making his cock throb in his jeans. "Ye shine so bright, I couldnae look at another woman even if I wanted to."

He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her bottom lip, hovering there as he spoke. "Ye ken I'm a jealous man when it comes to ye, even if ye give me no reason to feel that way. It's horrible and all-consuming to be in that state, and I dinnae ever want ye for even a single moment to feel even a smidgen of it." He brushed his lips over hers, stopping at the corner of her mouth, kissing it gently. "So I'm so sorry ye had to feel that way."

She took a deep breath and puffed it out, her breasts swelling at the mere action. "And I'm sorry for doubting you."

He traced his finger over a nipple, his heart aching at the sight of her looking so excruciatingly beautiful. "Ye never really doubted me," he managed.

She playfully tugged the hem of his shirt. "No. I didn't. I just didn't like the thought of another woman touching you," she admitted.

"I thought I'd feel dead chuffed hearing ye say that. But I dinnae. All I ever wanted for ye is to feel secure in my love."

"I do," she whispered. "Even when we're bickering or when we're having our worst moments."

Jamie inhaled deeply to pacify the urgency pressing against his jeans. He wanted her badly, but he didn't want to rush her, thinking of their baby and her recovery from her morning sickness. If it had been all up to him, he would have taken her by now against the wall. He ignored the weight of his arousal and attempted to smile, the command not quite reaching his mouth. "Would ye like something to eat first? I've ordered takeaway, but if ye prefer the broth ma made, I can quickly reheat it up for ye."

Claire's hands slipped around his neck and tugged him closer, her soft lips pressing against his jawline. "I'm hungry for you. You think you can deal with that first?" 

Reeling from her bold challenge, her request hung in the air as he lifted her against him, his mouth greedily delving between her supple cleavage. His need roared in his head like a powerful hurricane wind, and amid the lustful haze, his heart expanded with love, threatening to choke him out of air. 

He hoisted Claire higher, and she banded her legs around his middle as he resumed feasting on the soft mounds of her breasts until a faint moan passed her lips. "God, ye have nae idea how I've missed this," he muttered against her heated skin, his teeth tugging at the neckline so he could lick her nipple. "Tell me again, this is really what ye want, and the baby will be alright with what we're about to do."

"I want you now, Jamie," she whimpered. "And the baby will be fine."

Jamie groaned, powerless to stop his hand from slipping under her dress and running along the soft curves of her thighs. He walked them to bed while Claire attempted to rip his shirt off. "Ah sweet, Jesus, ye want this as much as I do."

She answered by arching her back with a frustrated soft grunt and pressing her centre against his aching cock, making him even more impatient to bury himself inside her.

Gently, Jamie deposited her down in the centre of the bed, his pulse wildly racing at the sight of her breasts straining against her dress. They struggled together, laughing in between as they pulled the dress and her knickers off her body before divesting his own clothes in record time. When her eyes landed on his hand, stroking his erection from root to head, she bit her lower lip in anticipation, making him groan out loud. He'd gone nearly a week not having her, and he could only hope he could hold on a little while longer, her needs always in the forefront of his mind. His desperation must have been apparent on his face because her arms impatiently reached out for him.

He leaned over and kissed the hollow of her neck, his fingers travelling over her belly to stroke the wet folds between her legs. Her thighs instantaneously parted, and her hips lifted to meet his hand. "Ach, ye're so ready for me, Sassenach." He rubbed her sensitive nub, watching as she flung her head sideways and gasped. "This was all I could think of while waiting for ye to come home." He lowered himself to the floor and hooked her leg over his shoulder. Parting her with his fingers, he dipped his head for a quick taste, and she almost undid him with her throaty sigh. With concerted effort, he drew his gaze up from the juncture of her thighs, forcing her to look at him. "I want ye to watch me, Sassenach, so ye'll see how much I want ye."

Too impatient to wait for her response, he tongued her nub with circular motions before open-mouthed sucking her core. Her body jerked upward, writhing and flailing uncontrollably that he had to place a hand on her belly to keep her still. Her voice was raspy, from imploring him to keep going to mumbling disjointed words to chanting his name over and over again. Too drunk and high on the taste of her, her screams of release only registered dimly as impatient fingers tugged his head, breaking through the sensual trance. 

"Please, Jamie, I need you now."

Overcome with his own need, he kissed her nub one last time before rising over her body and shoving her legs wider. Without an ounce of finesse, he roared in satisfaction as he drove the entire length of his cock inside her with one rough thrust, muffling her scream with a deep kiss. "Aaah, Christ," he breathed against her panting lips. "This is how it's always gonnae be with us, isn't it?" His body shook as he pulled out and sank into her tight heat repeatedly, tamping down the urge to take her hard. "Only ye can make me feel like this. Only ye."

He braced himself on his elbows and began rolling his hips, thrusting into her in controlled and deliberate measures. He desperately wanted his own release, but at the same time, he wanted this moment to last, always mindful of her condition. When her eyelids dropped, he touched their foreheads together, prompting her to focus on him. The union of their bodies and the connection he felt on a soul level were so primordial and deeply ingrained, it made him feel exposed and raw, and he wanted her to see and feel all of it. So that there would never be a doubt in her mind again who he belonged to.

"My eyes see only ye, Sassenach," he whispered, kissing her eyelids, his lower body driving his rigid length into her wet heat. "My lips kiss only yers, and my heart sits on the palm of yer hand to do as ye wish with it." He caressed the side of her throat with his mouth and inhaled her sweet fragrance. "Yer hands are the only hands my body will rouse to. I am yers as ye are mine. Always remember that." His orgasm was inexorable, hovering over him, ready to spill his seed, but he held on to the strained tether of his self-control. She'd begun to shake and convulse around him, her thighs gripping around his waist. It felt like she was marking him and embedding herself in him with every contraction of her inner walls.

"And you're my first and my last." 

His head spun, but he reminded himself not to thrust any harder like a rutting beast, but the needy part of him only cared about hammering his cock into her to assuage the building ache. He wanted to be gentle and savour the moment, but his body wouldn't allow it. 

As if reading his concerns, her thighs opened wide to take him deeper. Planting kisses along his neck and collarbone, she circled her hips and dug her fingernails into his bottom, urging him to move faster and harder.

"Fuck, Sassenach, I dinnae want to hurt the baby nor ye," he gritted.

"You won't," she whispered, kneading his stiff muscles on his shoulder. "I promise."

Jamie lifted his head to search her eyes. But one look at her parted lips, face suffused with pleasure, his control finally snapped.

She gasped out loud when he began to pick up his pace, pounding into her as he let out a strangled groan, his own breathing becoming more laboured with each thrust. Her hands flew around his neck, and her legs curled once more around his waist, her heels digging into his lower back as she moaned. 

"Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck," he growled. "I cannae stop now." 

The bed creaked, and the headboard banged against the wall, the dull thump mingling with her cries as she came apart beneath him. The sight of her riding out her orgasm against his cock and the feel of her damp skin made it impossible to hold back any longer. He shattered into her with a loud roar and came with such ferocity, he thought his heart stopped. Wanting to extract every last ounce of pleasure, he fused his lips with hers with an animalistic sounding groan, their tongues tangling as they slowly regained their breathing under control. Sated, he dropped his head into her neck, muttering her name over and over, his hips continuing to pump even after the shudderings passed.

Claire blew out a shaky breath in his ear. 

"Ye alright, Sassenach?"

"Oh, God, we should do that more often."

"That good, aye?" 

"Uh-huh."

He moved off her to roll on his side and grinned. "I agree. I'm all for having more sex."

"I meant to say we should more often take breaks from sex. It will make our lovemaking more intense."

What? He pulled back to study her expression. "Ye're bloody joking, right?"

"A few days tops!"

"Nae fucking way!"

Claire's body shook with silent laughter.

"Ye think this is a laughing matter now?"

She covered her face with her hand to hide her smile, telling him she was only teasing. 

"Christ! Ye think that was my best performance, and I cannae top that, is that what ye're trying to say?" Taking Claire by surprise, Jamie rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, so she was on top of him. Using one hand, he placed his thickening arousal against her core, making her gasp. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "Ach, Sassenach. We were just getting warmed up." He lifted her hips and slid his cock inside her, effectively putting an end to her laughter.

Dear Readers,

I'm sorry I didn't post any updates last week. I had a few problems with my arm spasm, and it was hard to type when it came out in full force. Harder also to write a sex scene when your limb is shaking all over the place. Anyway, I'm not telling you this because I want a pity party. Just letting you know what happened.

So that said, I'd like to thank you all for your patience and your continued readership. It makes me happy to know there are you lot reading my stories, and I want you to know I appreciate that. 

I hope you're well, keeping safe and healthy. Keep the good vibes rolling, guys! Because the world needs more of that more than ever. X

[liusaidh-writing]

Scars of Lamentation

One thing that always intrigued me about Outlander was Claire's return to Frank. The book went into their life together, certainly (and the show did a great job of showing a small bit of it, too) but I was always curious - how did that first week or so go for her? How did she manage to cope? This is just a little piece exploring that (poorly). Hope you enjoy it.

--------

Claire felt like she was drowning. Her cloudy sense of time and reality all but kept her in bed most days. She couldn’t keep her head above water - she kept choking on memories that would gut her again and again. They’d resurface at night, when she dreamed, or in the middle of the day when she felt well enough to venture downstairs for tea with Ms. Graham. She refused to speak to Frank, though she knew she’d have to sooner or later. Ms. Graham was her saving grace - Claire knew she understood somehow, that she believed it all. Claire even wondered sometimes if Ms. Graham was a traveler herself, though she never plucked up the courage to ask her outright. The look in the older woman’s eyes was sometimes dreamy, sometimes far away, like she had a secret herself.

The hardest part was night, though. Claire dreaded the dark, dreaded closing her eyes. For one thing, she still wasn’t used to the noises again. Cars would rumble down the street, startling her out of the light sleep she’d allow herself when she couldn’t fight the pull of fatigue any longer. Her mind would race with images of British soldiers atop horses, of unseen threats and real, true fear. She had nightmares of losing Faith all over again. She was always alone in an empty, cold room, and her baby was nowhere to be seen. Claire would wake herself, and the rest of the house, screaming. Frank rushed in the first few times it happened, but Claire refused to let him attempt to help. She’d ball up and cover her head with blankets, shivering with fear and cold and the deepest desire to be anywhere, anyone else.

Frank had made the decision to give her a dose of Nembutal at night to help her sleep. She had quietly accepted them, then promptly excused herself to the bathroom where she flushed them down the toilet.

She hated her dreams, for the most part, but chose not to attempt to quell them for fear of what she’d lose. Jamie would appear in random snatches, like a patchwork quilt - the memories that held him were a balm, a comforting presence, though they were double edged. It was also torture. It reminded her of what she’d left behind when she’d been made to go back through those bloody stones, made her wish with every fiber of her being that she could walk back to them and begin again.

She wondered sometimes if she did so, where in time would she land? Would her heart take her back to Jamie, back on that hillside, back inside the shack where they’d both scarred themselves for one another? Her wrist burned sometimes - like a flame was being held close to her skin. She liked to pretend it meant Jamie was thinking of her - wherever he was now. It made him feel close again, somehow.

Frank had stupidly chosen to burn the dress she’d had on when she came back through, but she’d quietly kept the plaid, locked it away with her undergarments. She’d pull it out at night, wrap herself in the warmth it provided. She could close her eyes and imagine she was on horseback, Jamie behind her, guiding the horse with the reins with one hand as he clutched her middle with the other. She’d recall how she’d lay her hand on top of his, lean back, and enjoy his comforting presence. He would plant quiet kisses in her hair as they rode, whispering Gàidhlig to her, sometimes letting his hand free hand wander lower than was strictly safe.

Half her heart was gone, and she had no idea how to fix it, how to feel like a whole person again. She wondered if the little one she carried would help heal her - though she hated thinking that way - it wasn’t the child’s responsibility. She held within her a piece of Jamie, and she clung to the hope that the baby would be delivered safely, that she could create some degree of normalcy for herself and the wee thing. She knew she had to - she’d made her promise.

The ‘J’ carved into her skin was a testament to her commitment to Jamie, and a scar she’d carry forever. It was small enough that it was not noticeable, except to her - her secret sepulcher for all that had come before it.

[medley00]

The Most Important Gift

So, this is my first time writing any type of fan fiction. I  am equally terrified and excited to put it out into the world.  Thanks go to @thelallybrochlibrary​ for hosting this fun Holiday Prompt Exchange, @fickeepingtheshipafloat​ for the adorable prompt, @walkinginland​ for her help posting this and @desperationandgin​ for the advice! Hope everyone enjoys reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Inverness, Scotland

CLAIRE

“Oh darling, I’m so glad I caught you.”

“Me too. It’s so good to hear your voice again.” Claire Beachamp said to her uncle Lambert over the phone. “What time is it there in Tikal?”

“Oh, it’s late here, but I was hoping to get you before you went into work.”

Claire glanced at the clock that read 5:38am. She had just gotten out of bed a few minutes earlier, stretched, and was preparing for her shift as a nurse at Raigmore Hospital when she received the call.

“You did. I don’t go in until seven this morning.”

While Claire made coffee and toast for herself, she chatted with her uncle about what was going on in her life. Admittedly, outside of her job, nothing new was happening with her so that was a very short conversation.

“Enough about me, do tell about your latest adventure.”

“Guatemala is amazing, Claire. I think you’d love it here.” Lamb said. He went on for a bit, describing some of the things he’d seen in the lush rainforest that surrounded the ancient Mayan ruin he was exploring.

“I don’t want to keep you too long. I know you’ve got important work to get on with.” Lamb said sincerely. “Also, I have a package I’m sending your way shortly.”

“Oh, lovely. Thanks, Lamb. I miss you.”

“And I miss you as well, my darling. I plan to come back home and visit soon.”

They finished their conversation, and Claire washed her face and threw on some of her favorite scrubs. She pondered if she should get a tree for her place, since Christmas was coming up quickly, but wasn’t sure if it was worth the effort since she was the only one who would see it and she was rarely home anyways. Her work kept her busy and she loved it, but every now and then she wished she could come home to more than an empty flat.

Keep reading

[ladyviolethummingbird]

The Gloaming

An Outlander / Jane Eyre crossover fic

Catch up on chapters 1-10 here

Chapter 11: The Apothecary

Mucking out the stalls one morning after Fergus’ riding lesson, sweat ran in rivulets down Jamie’s back. It wasn’t that the weather was particularly warm — summertime on Shetland certainly wasn’t known for its heat — but the vigour with which he worked saw his jacket discarded and sleeves rolled up to the elbow within a quarter of an hour. As much as Jamie enjoyed even the more manual aspects of his job, the reason for his exertion was less to do with dedication to his employment and more to keep himself from thinking. Specifically to keep from thinking about Claire.

Lately his mind had been filled with anything and everything to do with her. The shade of her hair when struck by the evening sun, the glint in her eye when she told stories of her escapades masquerading as Madame Beauchamp, the soft skin of her décolleté that he longed to trail his mouth across. The ever increasing time spent together certainly hadn’t been helping matters, the easy familiarity of their interactions encouraging the flickering flame of hope that his feelings might be reciprocated. Shoving his pitchfork into another pile of mud and manure filled straw, he tried to escape where his mind was taking him, knowing the thoughts that were about to follow would be the same as always.

You’re not enough for her. You’ll never be enough.

As grateful as Jamie was for all the he’d been provided with since coming to Wolverton Hall, he’d slowly come to realise that without to ability to be true to himself, much less Claire, it was no real life. He loved her and as fervently as he willed it to be otherwise, he was no longer content to exist on the periphery. He wanted to marry Claire, to be a proper father to Fergus and to build a family with them, but with nothing to his name it was a laughable notion. With a frustrated grunt, he hurled the pitchfork to the ground, the metal prongs hitting the stone pavers with an almighty clang. His eyes screwed closed and breathing heavily, he finally gave voice to the answer he’d been dreading.

If I can't be with Claire, then I can't be where she is.

He needed to leave Shetland.

Jamie rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand, heart aching with a pain as real as any he’d received from the lash at the workhouse. He didn’t belong here. Better gather his things and go soon he reasoned, no sense in prolonging the inevitable and only making it harder.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

Continue reading here

[aussieoutlanderao3]

Practice

67

For Them.

Pinning down what makes Claire, Claire, is like trying to capture magic in a jar or smoke in my hands.

[dianaforever]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser Characters: Claire Beauchamp, Jamie Fraser Additional Tags: Mardi Gras, Fun, New Orleans, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting Summary:

It's Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Jamie's there on business sees a golden girl on a float, she throws him a string of beads and a kiss.

[jensky2000]

Update!

I am 17 chapters into my current story! It’s an original work. A strangers➡️friends➡️lovers story. I’m super excited. It’s the same style as my others with original characters. Romance, humor and drama. Jack and El. He’s looking for love. She’s looking for independence and to find herself. Jack has a plan to help. Because that’s what friends do, right? Will she allow him into her  life? Will Jack find the love he is looking for....Don’t ask me, it’s a WIP. 😉

*I pulled my story “Little Voices” from AO3. I plan on a revision this summer.* 

Also, I have an idea for a new outlander fanfic...maybe a hot steamy summer story. (One where Jamie stumbles upon Geillis and Claire’s x-rated bakery for all your bachelor and bachelorette, adult birthdays needs...no surprise Geillis is the designer/decorator and Claire is the baker...)

I hope all is well! Ta ta for now! Jen

[itsafanficthing]

The Paper Boy - Chapter Five

Sorry for the break in between chapters. Took a second to squeeze this one out of my brain and onto the keyboard.

A03 is here

School. It was back. Summer was over and it was back to the daily grind of homework, teachers and chores. Truth be told, the chores hadn’t really stopped over the break, but now there was more of a routine to the rest of Jamie’s day. The only thing that made him spring out of bed on the first day of school was the one and only Claire Beauchamp.

Jamie had promised to walk with her to school, introduce her to a few more people, and that he wouldn’t leave her side. She laughed at that and asked if she could at least have some privacy in the bathroom. He had conceded that yes, that was probably for the best.

School. Sixth-year. His final year. The year that he was supposed to make decisions about his future (as if they hadn’t already been made for him). His father and his sister wanted him to buckle down, make good grades, no distractions- academia, this was his year.

His mates wanted to have a good time. They wanted to have a laugh, play as many sports as possible, make a mess, get in trouble, flirt with pretty girls; live while they were young.

Claire. Jamie wasn’t sure what Claire wanted. She wanted a friend- of that Jamie was sure and he was only too willing to fill that role in her life, if not something more.

—

He rushed through his morning chores, feeding the horses and chickens by throwing handfuls of feed in their general direction before sprinting over to the pigs to lob last nights scraps into the pen. Jamie scoffed down a piece of toast in the shower- which was not a good idea for both taste and practicality- but it did save time. Jamie swung his heavy backpack over his shoulder, the second hand books thumping him across the back as he called goodbye to his father and sister. Both of whom were sitting together at the kitchen table, grinning at each other at Jamie’s apparent eagerness to start the new school year, though Jamie didn’t see it. He had somewhere to be.

Jamie rode his bike to Claire’s house as fast as his legs would carry him. He was running late. Or at least, late by Jamie’s standards. He’d wanted to get their early and have a relaxing ride so he didn’t turn up red-faced and sweaty. Instead the early morning sun beat down on the back of his neck and he could feel the sweat gathering at his hairline.

—

He finally made it to Claire’s house and took some time wiping his face on his school uniform and digging the can of deodorant out of his bag and dousing himself to disguise his nerves and the effort of the bike ride.

Jamie brushed his hair out of his face (his sister said he needed a haircut, but he quite liked it long) and carefully parked his bike inside Claire fence. He took a deep breath and was about to go to the front door and knock when a voice called his name.

Dottie Ables, the sixty-something town gossip was calling out to Jamie.

“Morning Mrs Ables,” Jamie greeted as she made her way over to him.

“Jamie, lad. How are ye this morning?” Dottie asked sweetly, although she wasn’t looking at Jamie. She was looking at the house behind him.

“Well, thank you.” Jamie shifted uncomfortably on his toes. Dottie was one of the worst gossips in the town; she always had something to talk about- which was saying something in a town where hardly anything happened.

“Yer ready for school then? Yer first day, is it no’?” Dotties eyes flickered over to Jamie briefly but it was clear that her interest was much more directed to the house behind him.

“It is,” Jamie answered. He didn’t want to say anything that would make the rounds through the town, twisting and turning until it wasn’t even remotely close to the truth. Saying nothing was better. Let them think he was shy or stupid.

“Ye lookin’ forward to it? New school mates and so on?” Dottie wasn’t even bothering to look at Jamie now. In fact, she took a step to the side to see the Beauchamp’s house better.

“Aye, summer has to end at some time.” Jamie shifted slightly so that he was standing directly in front of her again, forcing her to look up at him.

“Ohh aye, ye ken I used to be young once-” Dottie stopped mid sentence as the front door behind Jamie opened.

Lamb standing in a tweed fluffy dressing gown, slippers on his feet and a steaming cup of (what Jamie assumed to be) coffee in his hands.

“Jamie lad, I thought I heard you pull up. Fancy some breakfast?”

Jamie couldn’t help the smile that came to his face at seeing Lamb. Jamie had always thought that Lamb’s hair was perfectly straight in contrast to his niece, but looking at him now assured Jamie that was not the case.

Lamb’s hair was spiked, wavy and very much all over the place. It looked like the man had just rolled out of bed and Jamie wasn’t entirely sure that he hadn’t.

Dottie, who was blocked from Lamb’s view by Jamie suddenly cleared her throat and Jamie jumped in surprise, forgetting that she was there.

“Mornin’” she called loudly, wanting to be seen with no room to not be heard.

Lamb yawned widely as Dottie moved into view. Rubbing a hand over his face and smiling brightly Lamb called out a “good morning” before promptly turning around and going back inside.

Jamie could hear that it wasn’t at all an acceptable response by Dotties’ standards as she huffed as Jamie took a step toward the house.

“Does’na even greet his neighbours. How do ye like tha’?” Dottie grumbled as Jamie headed towards the open front door. He was sure that Lambert Beauchamp was going to be the hot topic at the next coffee catch up with the locals.

—

“Claire will be down in a moment. She’s just getting dressed,” Lamb said as he tried and failed to flip a pancake with the pan. “Should stick to the spatula,” he grumbled, binning the sloppy half cooked mess before pouring more batter into the pan.

“Do ye always cook pancakes in the mornin’,” Jamie asked curiously, watching Lamb move about the kitchen, pulling various condiments and spreads (jam, chocolate spread, maple syrup, and for some reason- mustard) from the cupboards and refrigerator.

“Goodness no,” Lamb laughed as he placed a bottle of brown sauce in front of Jamie. “Only on special occasions. First day of a new school warrants a special occasion, wouldn’t you think?”

Jamie wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical but nodded in response anyway.

There was an awkward pause between them as Lamb continued to cook and Jamie sat at the table waiting for Claire. Jamie was never really sure what to say to Claire’s Uncle. It seemed like sometimes Lamb was more than willing to launch into a conversation with rapt attention, no matter the subject. And others, Lamb was vague and unresponsive, as if he was somewhere else entirely. Jamie watched him flip pancakes and tried to see if he could figure out what mood Lamb was in.

Footsteps thumping down the staircase brought Jamie out of his inspection of Lamb and he turned to see Claire enter the kitchen.  

Jamie could honestly say that he didn’t care for school uniforms. He knew that some of the lads in his class spoke about how the girls looked in it, in the white blouses and the black skirts. Especially the girls that rolled their skirts so that they were shorter than what was strictly allowed. He’d never really understood what the lads saw in the girls that were purposefully flirting and trying to change their uniforms to be more appealing. To Jamie, it was just another article of clothing to put on. It was what he wore to school. He wore his jersey when playing rugby. He wore his farm clothes when he was doing his chores.

He never understood the fantasy some of the lads with the school girl uniforms. They’d shown Jamie some pictures of girls with their tits bursting out of their tops and skirts that were little more than a scrap of cloth, and all Jamie had thought was how impractical it was and how uncomfortable it must be. It was hot, of course, the pictures were designed to be provocative, but aside from Jamie's natural hormonal reaction, he didn't understand the fantasy of it all.

That was, until, Claire Beauchamp walked into the kitchen. She was struggling with the black and red tie, her hair was in looser ringlets than usual and her crisp white shirt and perfectly ironed black skirt fit her to perfection. Jamie felt his mouth run dry and he was sure he had made some kind of strangled choking noise before swiftly turning to hide his lower body under the table, lest he shame himself and Claire this early in the morning. Good lord. Early in the morning. That’s what he told himself. It was just because it was early in the morning.

“Lamb, I can’t work out this tie.”

Jamie could hear the frustration in Claire’s voice but he didn’t dare turn around.

“Have a seat, Bumblebee. I’m sure Jamie can help.”

Unsexy thoughts. Unsexy thoughts. Auntie Jocasta’s knees. Cold Rugby practises. Jamie took a deep breath trying to calm his racing heart. Claire had no idea of the effect that she had on him. Mucking out the stables.

“Morning,” Claire said brightly as she sat next to him. “Can you help?”

Jamie finally turned to smile at her and felt his heart skip a beat. Her cheeks were flushed with her frustrations and the tie was hanging limply around her neck as she waited for his assistance.

“First time with a tie?” Jamie asked, loosening his own.

“My last school didn’t have ones you had to tie yourself. It used to clip on.”

“Clip on?” Jamie made a disgusted sound and Claire giggled. “Hand it over and I’ll tie it.”

Claire slipped the material from around her neck and handed it to Jamie with a sigh.

Jamie put it around his neck and tied it quickly before handing it back to Claire.

“Do it again. I need to learn how to do it,” Claire said with a huff pushing the blasted material back to him.

Jamie grinned and undid his work before slowly retying the tie several times as Claire watched him

Claire tried and the tail came out about four inches longer than the front and she groaned in frustration before trying again.

“There, how's that?” She asked, straightening it and holding out her arms in triumph. It wasn’t the best work that Jamie’d ever seen but she certainly had tied it.

“Perfect,” he said as Lamb set down a mountainous stack of pancakes in front of them.

“You look smashing, Bumblebee,” he said as he took a seat opposite them and immediately started eating.

Claire rolled her eyes before picking up a pancake of her own and smothering it in maple syrup.

—

Jamie found himself quite enjoying breakfast with Lamb and Claire (and it wasn’t just because Claire looked bonnie in her uniform).

Once breakfast had started, Lamb launched into a few stories from his archeology digs and it seemed as though he had a tale for every occasion. A natural born storyteller, he could have been a Scot. Claire ate her breakfast in relative silence only speaking to amend or add details to Lamb’s story.

“Lamb, we have to go,” Claire said from the sink as she and Jamie washed the dishes, interrupting Lamb’s extremely interesting story of excavating an Indian Tomb back in the nineties.

“Yes of course. You have everything? Your books? Your lunch? Have I forgotten anything?” Lamb immediately jumped into action, lifting different condiments on the table, half expecting Claire’s textbook to be hiding underneath.

“No I have it all,” Claire answered as she dried her hands on Jamie’s teatowel. “But we really need to be going.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you? I’m more than happy to,” he offered holding a bottle of maple syrup in one hand and a bottle of lemon juice in the other. He quickly put the bottles down on the table and wiped his hands on his dressing gown. He looked lost and Jamie had a vague memory of his mother and father looking at him the same way when it was his first day of school.

“It’s five minutes down the road. I’m sure that we can manage. Jamie can show me the way.”

Lamb looked over to Jamie who nodded enthusiastically in return, “Aye sir, Lamb. I’ll make sure we get there safely.”

“Alright then.” Lamb seemed appeased and clapped his hand enthusiastically. “Well, have a great first day, Claire. Come home if you need to… and I suppose… I suppose I will see you this afternoon when you get home.”

“Thanks, Uncle Lamb. I’m sure it will be fine.” Claire smiled briefly at her Uncle before picking up her school bag, swinging it across her back and looking back at Jamie expectantly. “Ready then?”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded and together they left the house.

--

It was mayhem. The younger kids were in tears, the slightly older kids were trying to escape their overprotective parents and the seniors were causing general disruptions wherever they could. Jamie could feel Claire tense up beside him as they approached the gates. Somewhere along the walk she had tied her hair out of her face and her hands automatically fluffed over her hair, trying to flatten it.

“Don’t worry, Sassenach. I will’na let ye out of my sight,” Jamie said as his name was called over the general shouts, laughter and sounds of the other children.

“I know, I know,” Claire reassured him, though her voice wobbled with nerves. “It’s just… it’s a lot of people.”

“Come,” Jamie said holding out his hand to her, “I’ll introduce ye to some of my mates.”

Claire looked between Jamie’s hand and his face nervously. Whatever she had seen there seemed to fortify her and she took his hand. Jamie could feel her shaking and vibrating with nerves but all he could really concentrate on was the fact that she was holding his hand and that she trusted him. He was sure that he was blushing, but right at that moment, he didn’t particularly care.

--

“Aye, who’s this then?” Angus Mohr called out as Jamie and Claire approached. “Ye’ve got yerself a wee girlfriend then lad? No wonder ye’ve been ignoring us all summer.”

“I have’na been ignorin’ ye,” Jamie shook his head, still very much aware that Claire was gripping his hand tightly.

“Ye just did’na want to see us then? Is that it?” Ruper interrupted, taking a step closer to Claire. “Rupert MacKenzie, Jamie’s better looking cousin. Pleasure to meet ye.”

“Claire Beauchamp.” Claire’s voice was soft and it felt like Jamie’s fingers were about to fall off with the pressure she was exerting on them- he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“This is Angus, all round eejit and attention hoor,” Rupert continued as Angus wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

“Pleasure.”

“So, ye had to go all the way to England to get a lass to fancy ye then, Jamie Lad?” Rupert laughed with gusto. “Ye’ve never fancied any of the lasses in our year so ye had to travel abroad. Angus thought ye might be swingin’ the other way.”

“Claire just moved here. Walter Sturart’s house. I’ve been showin’ her round.” Jamie ignored the second part of Rupert's ribbing.

Both Angus and Rupert crossed their hearts at the mention of Walter Stuart and Jamie felt Claire relax slightly.

“Weel, yer in better company than just a Jamie here now, lass,” Rupert went on after a respectful pause for the deceased Walter Stuart. “Havin’ no one but Jamie to show ye ‘round all summer. Must have been a bore.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Claire answered.

Jamie could hear a slight warble in her voice as she spoke but at least she wasn’t trying to crush his fingers any more.

“Here comes Geillis and Mary,” Angus hissed from behind Rupert and Jamie noticed Rupert stand a little straighter and puff out his chest.

“So Rupert did fancy Geillis, then,” Jamie grinned to himself. Seeing Rupert's cheeks flame as the two girls approached as he called out in greeting, Jamie wondered if that’s what he looked like when he looked at Claire.

“Who this then?” Geillis asked as they approached and Claire took a nervous step behind Jamie, trying to hide herself.

“Claire, she’s just moved here over the summer,” Jamie introduced Claire as she seemed to shrink back into herself.

“I’m Geillis, this is Mary,” Gellis introduced happily, seemingly unaware of Claire’s nerves. “So I guess we ken where Jamie’s been hidin’ all summer then. Had to go all the way to England to find a lass that will put up wi' ye then?” She laughed at her own joke and Rupert joined in as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, despite making the exact same joke seconds before the girls had arrived.

“As I was just sayin’ to the lads, I was’na hidin’. I was workin’,” Jamie defended again, although why he was giving them any kind of excuse, he didn’t know.

“Aye, aye, yer paper route,” Geillis waved away his comment with her hand. “I’m sure that kept ye up till all hours.”

“Ye ken I live on a farm, aye?” Jamie asked sarcastically. He could feel Claire relaxing again, though she was still partially hidden behind him.

Geillis scoffed and rolled her eyes as Angus interrupted whatever her retort was going to be.

“Aye ye do, and I’ve a bone to pick wi’ ye. We usually have the best parties in yer back field and I waited all summer for an invitation that never came.”

“Sorry to inconvenience ye,” Jamie laughed as he pushed Angus’s shoulder playfully. “Good to ken I’m only yer friend for the parties.”

“It’s about time ye apologised,” Angus shoved him back before the bell rang, signalling the start of the new school year.

“Do you know which homeroom you’re in, Claire?” Mary asked in such a soft voice that Jamie barely heard her.

“Oh um,” Claire jolted slightly at being addressed by someone. She dropped Jamie’s hand to pull her school schedule from her bag and Jamie flexed his hand in response. (First- to get the feeling back into his fingers and second- from the feeling of having Claire so casually hold his hand, linked together, a feeling he hoped to repeat several more times.

“Mrs Fox,” Claire read from the trembling paper in her hands.

“Same as us,” Rupert said swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. “Come on then.”

Claire looked up at Jamie with wild panic in her eyes.

“Same as me as well, Sassenach,” he said, seeing her visibly relax. “Ye alright?”

Claire nodded quickly, a few curls coming loose from her hair and it was all Jamie could do, to not gently sweep the hair from her eyes. Eyes that were slightly panicked and running over his face quickly.

“Y’ll be fine. Come on.” Jamie held out his hand again and to his satisfaction, Claire eagerly grabbed it once more.

—

The halls were busy with students pushing past each other, trying to get to class, or stopping and greeting each other and holding up the flow of students. It was mostly thanks to Jamie’s size that he and Claire made it to their homeroom together. Jamie more or less parted the sea of students and Claire followed behind him, gripping the back of his shirt to not lose him in the throng of people.

“Where do I put my bag?” Claire asked as Jamie stopped.

Jamie was pulling his own bag from his shoulders and tossing it carelessly onto the bag racks outside of the room as she asked and she watched him with curiosity before nodding to herself and following suit.

“Do I need anything? Pens, paper?” She asked eagerly as Jamie walked into the room without anything.

“It’s homeroom, Sassenach. Mrs Fox is’na likely to start handin’ out homework.” Jamie smiled at her and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. “Come on,” he indicated with his head and she followed him nervously.

The desks were set in pairs and Angus, Rupert, Geillis and Mary were sitting in the back left corner waving over to Jamie and Claire. Jamie wove through the desks to pull up his usual space- third from the back, next to the window, spare seat beside him. It hadn’t always been spare. John Grey had sat next to Jamie for most of Jamie’s schooling life until he had transferred back to England after his father passed away. Since he’d gone though, Jamie had mostly sat by himself. His friends would rotate with him if someone was away sick or fighting (not that it happened very often).

He no longer sat alone.

Claire’s fingers were tapping nervously on the desk in front of her and he could feel her knee bouncing and shaking the desk. Jamie turned to face Rupert sitting directly behind him. It was best to leave Claire for a moment to calm her nerves without forcing her into a conversation.

“Do ye think Mr Langford will be such a hard ass this year?” Rupert asked.

Mr Langford- the physical education teacher, was notoriously firm with students. He was also Jamie’s rugby coach.

“He’s not that bad. It’s only ‘cause ye muck about in class that ye get detention,” Jamie answered as Angus scoffed.

“Perfect Jamie. O’ course ye’d say that. Never got a detention in yer life. Not to mention that ye’re his favourite.”

“I’m not his favourite,” Jamie laughed, shaking his head. “I’m just not a complete eedjit.”

Angus was about to retort when Mrs Fox called for the class's attention.

“Good morning everyone. I hope you had a good summer break. I see a new face in our class. Welcome. Now, lets take the roll shall we? See who could’na roll out of bed this morning!.” Mrs Fox said all of this very quickly, nodding over to Claire and causing half the students to turn in their chairs to look at her.

As Mrs Fox read out the list of names, each student responding in turn when their names were called, Claire lent closer to Jamie.

“She’s not going to make me introduce myself to the class, is she?” She whispered, flinching as Angus hollered “PRESENT” from behind her.

“Nah. Homeroom is just for announcements and roll call. I doubt any of the teachers will make ye stand up and introduce yerself. It is’na primary,” Jamie replied shaking his head and seeing her sigh in relief. “Do ye ken yer first class?”

“Yes. It’s English I think.” Claire nodded eagerly. “What about you?”

“English as well I think. Who’s yer teacher?”

“Oh. I don’t know. How many English teachers are there?”

“Weel, there’s different levels of English, dependin’ on yer results from last year,” Jamie explained under his breath as Mrs Fox put away the roll call and started to go through morning announcements.

“Oh.”

“I’m in Higher English wi’ Mr Randall, as are Rupert, Angus, Mary and Geillis and I’m in Advanced Higher Maths with Geillis, but Rupert and Angus are in level 5,” Jamie continued as the speakers crackled to life and the Principal (Mr Worthing) interrupted Mrs Fox and welcomed the students to a new year.

“Oh,” Claire repeated looking downtrodden.

“It’s alright, we’ll look at yer schedule and figure out where yer goin’. Chances are ye’ll have at least one class with one of us.”

“I didn’t even think about different levels, Jamie. I just… Lamb just transferred across my credits and I picked some classes. I didn’t even look at the levels,” Claire said unhappily.

“Most of the time, ye dinna need to,” Jamie tried to reassure her. “The teachers usually look at yer marks and will place ye in the class that suits ye.”

“But what if,” Claire paused and bit her lip. What Jamie wouldn’t give to gently tug it loose from her teeth and kiss her. He shook the thought from his mind as Claire started to speak again. “What if I’m in… one of the lower classes.”

“Lower classes?” Jamie asked in confusion.

“You’re clearly in all the advanced classes. What if I’m in one of the dumb ones?”

Jamie snorted with laughter and Mrs Fox looked up from her list of announcements and frowned at him.

“What?” Claire asked sounding thoroughly put out by Jamie’s reaction.

“Sassenach,” Jamie said shaking his head and smiling at her, “yer one of the smartest lasses I’ve ever met, ye read encyclopaedias in yer spare time- ye’ll be fine.”

Claire blushed prettily before she sat up straighter and squared her shoulders. “I do not read encyclopaedias.”

—-

Jamie was right (of course). When homeroom was excused he and Claire rushed to her bag to check her schedule.

Claire Beauchamp Monday

Period 1 - English (Higher) - Mr Randall

Period 2 - English (Higher) - Mr Randall

Period 3 - Maths (Adv Higher) - Mr Sandringham

Period 4 - Biology (Higher) - Mrs Miller

Period 5 - History (Higher) - Mr Randall

Period 6 - History (Higher) - Mr Randall

“Weel, yer certainly not in any of the easy classes,” Jamie said as he looked over the sheet of paper. “They’re all Higher or Advanced Higher classes.”

“Is that a good thing?” Claire asked nervously as Jamie started to steer them towards their first class.

“Weel, if it helps. English and Math are both with me. I think Gellis is in Biology but I dinna ken who’s in History with ye.”

“You’re not in History?” Claire asked as they arrived at their English class.

“Nah,” Jamie shook his head. “I reckon my Da taught me enough about my families own history. I dinna think I can stomach any more.”

“You’re family history is convoluted then?” Claire asked somewhat sarcastically, though she definitely also sounded eager to hear more.

“Oh, aye. Very much so. Fought in risings. Locked in jails. Outlaws, landowners, prisoners, laird's- There is’na much the Fraser’s have’na done.” Jamie collected his books and pens from his bag and watched as Claire eagerly followed suit.

“Sounds fascinating.”

“I’ll tell ye about it someday. Not now though. Randall’s a right grump when yer late to class. Come on.” He smiled at Claire reassuringly and she returned the smile, following him into the classroom and taking the seat next to Jamie.

--

“Good Morning Everyone.” Mr Randall stood in front of the class, his dark brown eyes running across the faces looking back at him, lingering for a moment over Jamie and Claire before flicking back across the room. “I trust you all had a good summer. Anyone read anything interesting over the break? No? Well, rest assured this year will solve that issue for you. We will be starting the year with 1984 by George Orwell. Read it before? No?” Mr Randall spoke at such a rapid speed that he gave the class no chance to respond before he was moving onto the next point. “Published in 1949,” Mr Randall turned to face the whiteboard and began making bullet points as he spoke. “The year is 1984, as the title suggests, civilisation damaged by war, conflict, revolution. Three super-states rule the world. The world is run by the “Party” with a leader, cult-like status, Big Brother. The book is about conformity, surveillance, and propaganda.”

Jamie had read the book about two years ago. His father was a keen literary and made sure that both Jamie and Jenny had read the “classics”. Jamie glanced over to Claire who was carefully making notes in her book as Mr Randall continued his monologue.

“Have you read it before?” Jamie wrote the words in the top corner of his notebook and slid the page across to Claire. He saw her hand pause briefly from the notes she was taking before she pulled Jamie’s book closer and wrote her reply.

“About a year ago. I did an assignment on it.”

Claire’s writing was clean but angular; each letter on a significant slant.

“Same- read it a while ago too. Maybe you can recycle the assignment.” Jamie wrote back, casually sliding the book back the Claire. He saw her smile and shrug her shoulders slightly before she put went back to taking notes from Mr Randall.

--

“I want you to finish reading the book in the next two weeks. It shouldn’t take long. Don’t fall behind, we will be discussing the themes of each chapter in the coming classes, and it won’t do you any good to not know what the rest of the class is talking about.” Mr Randall had to raise his voice over the sounds of students packing up their belongings as the bell rang.

“Claire, do you mind staying a moment? I’d like a word.”

Jamie stopped as Mr Randall called Claire’s name.

“I’ll wait for ye outside.” Jamie saw Claire tense before she nodded tight lipped and made her way to the front of the room.

--

Jamie packed away his books and paced outside the classroom, waiting for Claire.

Whatever Mr Randall had wanted to say to Claire didn’t take long and she was soon back with Jamie as they walked slowly on their break between classes. Jamie was eating an apple as Claire dug a cheese stick out of her bag.

“What was tha’ about?” Jamie asked through a mouthful of apple.

“Oh, he just wanted to welcome me to the school. Said he knew my Uncle Lamb at Oxford, they went to the same university,” Claire shrugged casually but Jamie could see that there was something else.

“And?” He prompted when Claire didn’t say anything further.

Claire smirked up at him and Jamie felt his heart beat irregularly in his chest. The things that she did to him.

“He also wants to introduce his son to me, Frank. He said that I should look out for him next class and say hi.”

“Ah, Frank,” Jamie said with a sigh.

“What’s wrong with Frank?” Claire asked curiously as Jamie stopped on a bench outside a classroom and took a seat.

“Nothin’ at all,” Jamie shook his head. “I dinna ken him too well to be honest wi’ ye. Seems a bit up-tight sometimes, but I’m sure it is’na easy havin’ yer Da as one of yer teachers."

“I can imagine, I don’t know how I would be if Lamb came to teach history.”

“He keeps to himself mostly, but I can introduce ye if ye like.”

“It’s fine,” Claire waved away the offer. “I’m sure we’ll have a class together somewhere along the line. I don’t need to meet the entire school on the first day.”

“Nah, I suppose not.”

Jamie smiled at Claire.

Claire smiled at Jamie.

She looked so pretty in her school uniform, her earlier nervousness now somewhat dissipated.

“Thank you, for taking me under your wing Jamie. I really do appreciate it,” Claire said softly. “I don’t know how I would have done this morning or any of today without you.”

Jamie shrugged and swallowed heavily before clearing his throat. “It’s no bother, really. I’m glad I could be of assistance. We’re friends aren’t we?”

“Friends,” Claire repeated the word with a soft hum. “Yes, yes we are. I was thinking that-”

Though what she was thinking, Jamie never found out, as Jamie’s name was shouted to him from across the yard and they both looked up to see Laoghaire and her friends making their way towards them.

[mistresspandora-archive]

I Think This Was a Gateway Drug

It’s official. I’ve crossed a line and there is no going back.

I wrote my first Outlander Fanfic. 

Technically it’s the Lord John spinoff series. I might have been a wee bit upset by the fight that Lord John and Jamie get into near the end of Lord John and the Brotherhood of the Blade.

If you’ve read it and want to see what could have happened if Lord John had stayed an extra night and just talked about their feelings for the love of God, take a peek.

Writing this was a gateway drug. I have more in my head. What I have done.

Check it out on AO3: The Fray by Mistress Pandora

[samscait]

Trust Me

I stared blankly at the line in my script. I had been going over the same scene, alone in my trailer, for the past 40 minutes. I wasn’t retaining a thing, and my mind was all over the place with memories of a sleepless night. I read it again, and stared into my vanity mirror. What the fuck, Balfe. It was a single sentence. 

“I’ve asked Brianna–”

My mind blanked again. I picked up my phone and saw an unread message.

Dusty Rose: Christ, if Matthew doesn’t stop crying. He screams every time we sit him on Sleepy.

Without acknowledging Sam’s message, I typed my own.

Come to my trailer when you’re done with the scene. I’m distracted and need to talk through something with you. Maybe running the lines together will help. 

Dusty Rose: K. I have 20 minutes or so for a reset.

I closed my eyes and fluffed out my flat wig hair. Shit, I was tired and could use a pick me up. Where was that PA with the fucking coffee? I folded my legs up indian style, closing in on myself in the salon chair I was sitting in in front of the mirror. I arched my back, stretching my arms high out over my head and rolled my head around. It was going to be a long night. 

I folded my arms on my head, closed my eyes, and ran through the line again. 

“I’ve asked Brianna to draw some portraits for us. Of all of them, especially Jemmy.”

I was taken out of my reverie by the sound of an elephant wearing boots, stomping and scraping, as the screen door slammed shut behind me.

“Is really it necessary to make that much noise?” I said without moving or opening my eyes.

“It rained a bit. Would ye prefer I left the muddy boots on?” 

I opened my eyes and chuckled at the sight of Sam stumbling around and pulling the heavy boots off in one tug, nearly losing his balance. 

“What’s the deal? What are we rehearsing? I’m not sure if i’m in the headspace to go over that last block again at the moment.”

I gave him a weak smile. “It’s silly really, but it’s just the short scene before the window. My mind’s been elsewhere and I need someone to keep me in the moment.”

He walked over to where I was sitting and propped against the counter, facing me. Looking over, he picked up the script and analyzed the page I was on. He raised his eyes to look at me, brows hitting the ceiling.

“Ye have two lines?”

“....yes,” I hesitated, lifting my chin up a bit.

“Where is Caitríona and what did ye do with her?” He gave me an incredulous look, tilting his head to the side.

I rolled my eyes and let out a small snicker.

“What’s going on up there?” He said, and swatted the side of my head with the script.

I sighed and covered my eyes with my arms once more, afraid that I had reached the point of exhaustion where I may actually shed tears. 

“Hey. Balfe.” A more serious tone this time, I thought. 

Letting out another big sigh, I let my arms fall to the arms of the chair, and steeled my expression. His face softened while he waited for an answer. 

“There’s just… a lot going on at home. A lot going on here. A lot to prep for and scenes I'm nervous about. I didn’t sleep well. My mind is racing and I’m having a hard time focusing.”

He gave me a sympathetic smile, which morphed into a more serious “Jamie look.” I always found it funny how he could switch Jamie on and off like that. 

“That’s a braw notion, Sassenach.”

He smiled at me and lifted one eyebrow.

“I remembered you for 20 years, Mo Chridhe. No pictures at all, hm. But it does help.” He gave a smirk, no doubt at the confidence he had in delivering a well practiced line. 

He lifted my hand and pressed it to his lips, lingering for a moment. Sam or Jamie now? We held eye contact, and for a moment, my mind was clear and everything stood still. His expression was soft and warm. The bloody man was always so concerned with how I was feeling. So in tune. Always my calm center, and always making sure I was okay– even if he was mostly to blame for the turbulence at home. But he didn’t need to know that.

“What are you doing?” I said, scoffing, then trying (and failing) to yank my hand away.

He held his grip and tugged at my hand, as he took a step back, and pulled me to my feet. He pulled me close with his hands on my hips and I stood there, looking up at him, frozen, unsure what to do. And then his hands went lower, cupping my ass and lifting me. Before I knew what was happening I was being placed on the counter with him standing close between my legs. He stood still for a moment, giving me time to move, or push him away. I felt myself fighting to give into another moment that felt rather intimate, considering our current dynamic. 

He ran a soothing hand up and down my back, while the other ran up the outside of my leg. Finger tips ever so lightly tracing from ankle to the back of my knee, until they stopped, disappearing under my robe and on top of my thigh. He leaned in, laying his palm flat on the top of my thigh, and spreading his fingertips dangerously close to where I wanted them. His lips hovered closely to my ear and his breath was hot, tickling and raising the baby hairs on my skin.

“Onions.”

I let out a cackle. This was not where I thought things were going.

“Garlic. Mmm. Something hot,” he continued. “Hm...peppercorns, aye. Cloves.”

I pulled back, giving him a questioning look. He wiggled his eyebrows and answered by placing a soft kiss on the skin underneath my left ear.

“Are we still running lines?” I asked, as I closed my eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“Aren’t we?

I pulled back and swatted at him. “Don’t do that.”

He grinned like a devil.

“Sam–” shaking my head, I moved to get down from the counter. “Your driver will be back here any moment.”

He placed a hand on the low part of my stomach to stop me and lowered his head to meet my eyes. “Trust me?”

I hesitated as I felt the fingertips inch closer to the inside of my leg. His hand was now completely under my robe. I felt his thumb brush down and stroke my thigh lazily. As he placed his other hand on my lower back and pulled me aflush with him, wedging my legs further apart.

I looked him dead in the eye, holding eye contact to the point where it was nearly uncomfortable, but he didn’t break. He held my gaze as the hand on my thigh began to move towards my center. He dipped a single, dexterous finger into my wetness, sliding it upwards and swirling around the swelling nub with the lightest pressure. My mouth fell open and his reaction mirrored mine, as I sucked in a heavy breath of air. I heard him let out a low whimper, as a second finger joined in, this time pressing further. I relished in the feel of him moving torturously slow, and struggled to keep our eyes locked. 

My lids lowered and he planted a hand at the base of my hair, tugging hard enough to cause me to to open my eyes further. 

“Let me make you feel good,” he breathed into my mouth, but all I could manage was a sob.

I held his eyes once again, as I watched him drop to his knees, one at a time, and hike my leg over his shoulder. He dragged his tongue up the inside of my knee, pausing to look at me for a moment, then continued up, before he placed his hot mouth over my center and ran his tongue bottom to top.

Sam picked up his pace, urgently swirling, licking, and sucking. Moving to the spot that he had carefully practiced so many times before, sending me into my undoing. I threw my head backwards, slamming it in the cabinet hanging above and letting out an ungodly moan. 

His hand flew up to silence me and I dipped his fingers into my mouth, sucking and following his pace. I heard him growl and let out a low “fuck” myself, as bright spots began to appear, and I couldn’t focus on anything but my completion. 

Looking up at me, he spread me open with his fingers and suddenly the pressure of his tongue was too much. I reeled forward as my hand jumped to the top of his head and my fingers dug into his hair, but I wasn’t sure if I was stopping him or pulling him closer. He flicked his tongue over me, once, twice, and I launched forward again. 

“Let go, Cait,” he breathed. And I did, feeling all the tension leave my body.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there on the counter, with my eyes closed and resting my head against the cabinets. When I did finally open my eyes, rather regretfully, I was alone and my phone was buzzing across the table at the end of the trailer. I hopped down and padded over to it.

How do we keep ending up here? I thought to myself, running a hand over my face and through my hair. So much for clearing your fucking mind, Balfe.

Dusty Rose: You knocked out for a bit and I’m due back on set. PA is bringing that coffee.

Thank you, I replied.

I watched the three dots appear on the iMessage screen; then disappear. They appeared again, this time staying on the screen for what felt like a lifetime… 

I heard a knock and turned to open the door to see Kerry, my makeup artist.

“Hey, Caitríona! Ready to get into makeup?” 

I gave her a warm smile and nodded.

I looked down at my phone again. His reply never came through.