#pair: ian x jenny

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 32 ~The Surprise~

"Hey, Jamie, look at this! Ye remember this picture?" Rabbie called out from the other side of the attic, waving a piece of yellowed photograph. "I must have been ten here and look at ye ...ye look like Annie from that musical show."

Ian got up from where he was sat sealing boxes and peered over Rabbie's shoulder. "Fuck, Jamie, ye look flaming hot!"

Joe grimaced and gave Jamie a sympathetic look. It was a normal occurrence that Jamie was the butt of the jokes in the family, having inherited the MacKenzie genes. He'd been the easiest target with his unruly coppery curls, but he'd learned from an early age, the best way to deal with it was by not responding.

Jamie gave a long-suffering sigh and looked all around him. There weren't enough hours in the day, and there was still so much to do before he went to see Claire and got on a plane to France. They needed to box all his rugby memorabilia, trophies and professional photos to be brought later to the rugby academy and displayed in the built-in, glass case Willie had recently installed. It had been his ma's idea to exhibit his rugby collections and awards, in the hope of inspiring young athletes who would be attending the academy. The only problem was, he just hadn't realised there would be plenty of it and paired with a lot of mucking about from his younger brother.

"And here's another one ..."

Willie shot Rabbie a look. "We're supposed to be boxing things up, no' spending yer time on the floor looking at pictures."

"Cool yer jets. I'm going through Jamie's rugby photos, but some of them are mixed with the family ones ...oh look! Here's one with Joe ...oh, and Claire's in it. Jamie, I didnae ken ye knew her back then."

They all gathered around behind Rabbie and bent down to take a closer look. On the photo standing next to Jamie was Joe, another medic and then Claire. Her hair was pulled back, and she was wearing a cap with a Scottish flag sewn into it, the visor almost concealing her eyes. Whereas Jamie and the rest in the photo had been smiling for the camera, Claire's face looked inscrutable.

They stared at the photo for a while. It was taken not that too long ago and wondered if Claire was with Frank already. Jamie guessed she was.

Joe broke the silence first. "Claire used to help my medical team during the early days of her internship," he explained, straightening up. "And working during the rugby game could be quite hectic with all of those lads getting all sorts of bumps and bruises. It was hardly a place to mingle."

"Aye, I understand that, but Jamie ye're in the same photo as her. Didn't ye notice her back then?" Rabbie asked, glancing at Jamie.

Jamie cleared his throat as he peered closer. He had a vague memory, but then again, after their meeting in Lallybroch, he'd always thought Claire looked familiar. He must have seen her in passing but with everything that usually happened in the sideline and all of his concentration focused on the game, it would have been easy to overlook a lot of things. "Aye ...weel ...there were a lot of people going in and out of the locker room after the game. As Joe said, it's hardly a place to socialise." He rubbed a hand behind his neck, wondering what it would have been like if he and Claire had been acquainted back then.

"Hang on a minute," Joe interrupted. "Now I remember that photo. Rabbie, flip it to the other side. There's a message on the back." He looked at Jamie. "I gave you that photo to sign it for Claire. I guess I must have forgotten to ask for it back. She'd wanted an autograph from you, but she'd been too shy to approach you and ask. She was worried you'd remember that awesome smackdown she gave you that time when you got too cheeky with her, so she'd asked me to ask you instead."

_ Ah yes! _ He remembered that encounter now. He'd been teasing her while she'd been attending to his injuries. Jamie felt his cheeks flushed. "Here, give me that. Let me take a look." He took the photo from Rabbie's hand and flipped it over. And sure enough, there was a message from Claire with her neat cursive writing.

_ Dear Mr Fraser,_

_Could you sign this photograph for me? I would be forever grateful if you could spare a moment of your time as I am an avid fan of yours. _

_ Many heartfelt thanks, CB x _

_ PS I am the one on the far right on this picture. _

Despite himself, Jamie grinned. _ Mr Fraser indeed! Will have to get her to say that in private, one of these days. Maybe while we're getting busy under the sheets. _ "I'm keeping this," he said suddenly, running a finger over the written words. _ Christ, I miss her already! _Ever since he'd confessed about Forbes, Claire had finally conceded to staying in his apartment every night. These past few days were like as if an invisible dark cloud had lifted from their midst, and there was more openness in their relationship allowing him to see the future more clearly. Already he was itching to see her again, and it was only a few hours ago he'd last seen her. Now he wished he wasn't going to France anymore.

"Uh-oh, look at him! Ye've gone soft, Jamie lad."

Ian's ribbing launched him out of his reverie and snagged the attention of Rabbie, who grinned and sniggered, making Jamie realise he'd been staring at Claire's writing this whole time,

"Aye, definitely, he's gone soft. Just the other day, I saw him buying tampons for Claire in the shop, and he didnae see me. I overheard him asking a girl if there's a size that fits all," Rabbie chuckled.

Joe and Ian burst out laughing.

_ Ah fuck, here we go! _

Rabbie shook his head. "Hey Jamie, how come ye dinnae ken about tampons? Ye've had a few of them stuck up yer nose when ye'd taken a bashing in the field."

"They're nasal packing you dimwit!" Joe snorted, throwing a crumpled paper at Rabbie. "But I guess you can call them that as it does the same job."

"Ach, Claire has been Jamie's Achilles' heel, and Kryptonite rolled into one," Ian grinned. "Jenny says, when ye start buying tampons for yer girlfriend, that means ye're ready to take it to the next level."

"Aye, I think so too," Rabbie agreed, nodding his head. "I wonder when Jamie is going to ..."

"Are ye done with those photos, Rabbie?" Willie cut in, trying hard not to smile at Jamie's expense.

Rabbie scowled at the older Fraser as he gathered the photos and stood up. "It's done, ye grouchy git," he muttered, getting up and placing the photographs in the open box. "Ye're just surly because the only thing ye're laying at the moment are bricks."

Jamie muttered a curse under his breath. He didn't have time for this, and the last thing wanted was to be in the middle of the big brother and wee brother verbal match. He might have been the target of their taunting as a tag team when they were bairns, but he wasn't about to play referee, middle brother or not.

"Right, lads ...ye think ye can sort this all out without me?" Jamie asked rapidly before Willie could come back with a rebounder for Rabbie. "I need to see Claire before I catch the plane. When I come back from France, dinner, drinks and more drinks are on me for sorting my stuff out." He grabbed his jacket from the nearby chair and pulled them on, careful not to crease the photo in his hand.

Willie scanned the room. "Aye, we can handle this. Ye go ahead, and we'll deal it. See ye in a few days?"

"Aye, see ye in a few days. Everything under control, aye?" When Willie nodded, Jamie faced the room once more. "And Joe, check up on Claire once in a while, alright? She's staying in my apartment while I'm away. And ye Rabbie behave. See you soon, Ian."

"Always mate!" Joe replied as the rest of the lads said their byes. "Now go before ye miss yer ladylove's lunch break."

With that, he turned around and left the attic.

..........

Ignoring the gazes that landed on him and the hush that followed, Jamie scanned the hospital cafeteria for Claire. When he found her sitting on her own at the far end of the room eating something, what looked like a sticky bun and reading a book, he quickly made his way to her, unhearing of the gushes and whispers that followed his wake. He caught her unaware when he planted a kiss on the nape of her neck.

"Jamie!" Claire gasped and looked around, her face blooming red as she caught the glances and attention they were gaining by the second. "You should have called. Do you want to go somewhere private?" she asked, putting the book down.

"No, here will do," he said, taking the seat opposite her and taking her hand in his. When she tried to pull it away, he tightened his hold and grinned. She looked so beautiful when she blushed. "What's the matter, Sassenach? Are ye embarrassed to be seen with yer boyfriend?"

"Of course not! How can you ask such a daft question? I'm surprised you haven't been mobbed, walking in like that without even a cap on."

"I was hoping ye'd protect me if that happened." When she didn't laugh and frowned at the people from the nearby table for staring, he kissed her fingers to catch her attention. "See it this way ...if I came in here with a cap on or any sort of disguise and your colleagues saw us holding hands, they would have figured out eventually who I was. Most of them already ken ye're with me, so they're hardly going to think there is some other bloke ye like to hold hands with. Unless of course, there's another bloke." When her frown deepened, he twined his fingers with hers and changed the subject. "Just joking. Don't mind them, Sassenach." He sighed. "I wish you were coming with me. I'm going to miss you and us, like this."

He'd asked her only once to come to France with him, and when she said she couldn't, he didn't push any further, knowing how dedicated she was to her work. He knew she wanted to go but asking her to take two weeks off was too much of an ask.

"Jamie, I wish I could come too ...you know that. But you'll be busy attending interviews, shoots and other stuff. So really there's no point in me coming. I'll just be bored out of my mind waiting for you to finish when I could be here doing something more productive." She sighed and looked down as he stroked the inside of her wrist. "The only thing I'll regret not coming with you is, we won't be together on my birthday." She looked into his eyes. "But don't worry about it. I'm aware you're doing this for the academy. If it's going to take a little separation sometimes to make this right, then that's what we have to live with."

He wished now they were somewhere private so he could take her in his arms. Instead, he kissed her hands again alternately, taking a few precious moments to lock away the irreplaceable sensation of basking in her love and understanding.

"We'll celebrate yer birthday when I come back," he promised. "Once the academy is up and running, I think I'll settle more into a routine. But I still think we should go on a break before the academy starts. The biggest part of the work is done, thanks to Willie and his team. But God knows when we'll get a chance once we get down to the nitty-gritty part, like hiring and administration. I intend to have the academy ready and functioning by next year, and I want to have everything covered before we officially open our doors."

She leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table and smiled at him. "Just do what you need to do and hurry back to me. I'm quite sure we'll manage a little break before the academy opens." She squeezed his hands and gazed longingly like she's trying to keep them at this moment for as long as possible. When she finally pulled back, it's with a resigned expression. "You're going to be late for your flight. Call me or text me when you get there."

"I will do, I promise."

They left the cafeteria and walked together to the main entrance, and when they were stood outside, she turned to him. "It's only for two weeks, Jamie. We can do this. You've been away from me longer much longer."

"But this time, it's different," he said, referring to the time before he confessed about Forbes.

"I know," she whispered. "We'll be both busy, and before you know it, you're back again."

He nodded and smiled. It took an effort to act like saying goodbye wasn't physically painful. "Aye, ye're right. I'm quite sure the days will fly by quickly. See you in two weeks, Sassenach."

He kissed her briefly, knowing she was conscious of people watching and taking photographs.

"I love you, James Fraser," she whispered, before turning around and going back into the hospital.

Before he could say it back, the door already closed behind her.

..........

_ Nine days down and five days to go before Jamie arrives home_. Claire had taken three days off for her birthday to visit her parents' grave and left last night for Oxford after her gruelling shift. Arriving late at her booked Airbnb, she'd immediately gone to sleep so she could wake up early and have the cemetery to herself.

Before she'd left Edinburgh, Geillis had made her promise to be back around late afternoon today for whatever uncle Lamb had in store for her. Initially thinking Jamie had something to do with the surprise birthday celebration uncle Lamb had planned, her excitement had grown exponentially, believing Jamie would be home earlier than expected. But that hope was immediately dashed when she saw an announcement in social media that Jamie would be attending an interview with a sports network in Paris later today.

She walked past the giant redwood tree, clutching her mother's diary in one hand and a tote bag holding a tartan blanket, flask and flowers in the other. The sun was bright and early, and the autumn air crisp. Today she'd worn her mother's knitted red scarf for the occasion to commemorate her parents' death anniversary. Every year, for the past eight years, instead of celebrating her birthday, she came to visit Wolvercote cemetery where her parents had been laid to rest many years ago. She'd looked forward to visiting, welcoming the tranquil and peaceful surroundings and the chance to get things off her chest, but she had to make sure she arrived early to avoid the tourists that came to see the graves of the Tolkiens.

Following the same route of years past, she took her time wandering through the maze of headstones, reading inscriptions, stopping now and again to say a silent prayer for some of the memorials she'd become familiar with. The engravings promised the dearly departed ones they'd never be forgotten but a promise which sadly, sometimes were broken. She left a single flower on some of the old crooked, crumbling monuments which had no visit or care in a long time, greeting them like they were old friends. In a way, it felt like that, for whenever she stopped by to say hello, time seemed to stand still, the wind unmoving and the birds stilling in acknowledgement.

When she finally reached her parents' graves, their plots side by side next to each other, she was surprised to see generous bouquets of forget-me-nots laid on each headstone. She smiled, thinking it must have been from Reverend Wakefield, an old friend of uncle Lamb or perhaps his housekeeper, Mrs Graham. Either way, she was glad to see the graves well taken care of and free of weeds.

After she'd placed her own flowers in the flower holders, she laid out the tartan blanket on the ground between her parents' graves and settled herself comfortably. She poured herself some coffee and drew out a picture from her mother's diary. It was a photograph Jamie had sent her from France. It was a group photo of him, Joe, a colleague and her. At the back was her own writing she'd written a few years back asking him to sign an autograph. To her delight, he'd signed it with a note saying, _ long overdue _and a smiley face and sent it to her via post.

"Hey, mum and dad ... it's me. How is it going up there?" she whispered, leaning forward to touch their engraved names. "Well, whatever you're doing, I hope you're having a blast and a time of your afterlife. Unfortunately, I don't have much time today because uncle Lamb is planning something for my birthday, so I need to be back home tonight. Anyway, there's something I've been dying to show you ever since I got on the plane last night. Here take a look at this." She held up the photograph in the air as if she was showing it to a live person. "See that guy on the far left? That's Jamie. You probably heard all about him up there and how much of a big deal he is in rugby. Yeah, he's the same guy I've been crushing on for years, and you might remember I've mentioned his name a few times before. Well, what do you think? He's handsome right?"

An unusually warm breeze for a cold autumn morning caressed her cheeks as a monarch butterfly settled on the headstone. She stared at it for a while before slipping the photo back into her mother's diary. "I bet both of you have plenty to say after the year I had. Well, this time last year, I was engaged to Frank ...you remember Frank? Of course, you do. Stupid question. How could you not?" She shook her head as memories from her last visit to the cemetery came flooding back. "You might have noticed during my last visit, I was in a place of uncertainty. And I remember taking mum's diary with me for the first time hoping it would be our way of communicating. I have no idea why I thought of that. Maybe because her writing has brought me comfort over the years." She took a deep breath, and a wood pigeon cooed from a high branch. "It sounded a bit daft at the beginning, but when I look back with hindsight, I think it worked. I know ...I know ... a priest would be having a canary right now if they could hear me talk. You see ... last year I asked you what you thought about me marrying Frank, and then I opened mum's diary and read the first passage my eyes landed on. Can you remember that passage? Because I'm not sure anymore if I said it out loud to you. Well, allow me to remind you." She flipped the diary open to the page she was looking for. "It said ... here's a snippet ..._ from an early age, I've learned to trust my gut because I realised it knows what your head hasn't figured out yet _."

Sighing, her finger drifted over the words she just recited, admiring her mother's beautiful penmanship. "So there you go. Looking back now, I think you were indeed trying to tell me something about trusting my guts, even if the words didn't immediately register into my muddled brain. It may sound crazy, but I honestly believe that with my whole heart. And before you remind me of my Catholic upbringing and call this a form of divination, I'm sorry, but I have to disagree. Reading this diary has been my saving grace while growing up, and it always felt mum wrote those words to guide me one day, and it has, in a lot of ways." A lone starling landed on the neighbouring headstone and chirped.

She closed her eyes for a moment breathing the fresh air and soaking in the warmth of the sun. Then she laid down the diary and took a sip of her coffee. "Anyway, I'm not here to talk about Frank. I'm here to talk about Jamie." She fidgetted with the edge of her scarf and smiled. "Mum, dad, I really love him, and what I feel for him, it's something I've never felt before. It's different this time, and I want you to know I'm happy ...happiest I've been for a long time. So that must count for something, right? I know he made a lot of bad choices in the past ...choices you probably would disapprove of. But hey, we all make mistakes at some point in our lives, and I am no different. Yeah, he is a complex man, I must admit, but he has a big heart and an inherently good soul, and he's proven it time and time again. So I'm hoping you will like him and maybe find it in your heart to love him the same way as I do. And perhaps if it's not too much of a big ask, you can relay a message from me to the old man up there to watch out for him."

A wind suddenly picked, sending a folded note she hadn't seen before from one of the bouquets to land on her lap.

Curious, she unfolded it. When she saw the writing, she gasped, and her eyes widened. _ Oh, sweet mother of God, it's from Jamie! _ With trembling hands and blurring eyes, she read the simple yet heartfelt message.

_ You had left this world a long time ago, but your memories are still fresh in your beautiful daughter's heart and mind. May you rest in peace, knowing I will always protect her and love her with all of me until my heart stops beating. JAMMF _

_ ...Until my heart stops beating? _ Her heart swelled. Who needs a birthday present or celebration when Jamie did something like this out of the blue? At almost every turn, he somehow managed to surprise her with his affection and tenderness, something he'd doubted he'd be capable of. But here it was, a perfect example of love from a perfectly flawed man. She didn't know if it's the words, or the flowers, or the fact she missed him so damn much making her feel like she couldn't breathe right. Half sobbing and half laughing, she reread the note over and over again.

"Good God ...mum, dad, did you see that?" She shook her head and swiped her cheek. "Jamie's even trying to make a good impression on you. Who would do that? And what do you have to say about it? He is charming, isn't he but oh sweet Jesus, I have a sneaking suspicion he knows it too. He's cocky like that, you know? If you were alive today, he would have probably given you a lifetime free ticket to watch rugby. Or a free ticket to anywhere. Uncle Lamb only got a season ticket and a signed jersey, but it was uncle's fault pulling that meat cleaver move on him. But honestly ... Jamie's that smooth he makes my eyes roll, and I can almost see you doing the same."

She pulled out a miniature Fraser whiskey from her pocket. "I know it's still early in the morning, but shall we have a toast? It's my birthday, after all." The wind blew, the falling leaves of red and gold drifting all around her and flipping the pages of her mother's diary to a picture of her first birthday. "I get it, mum and dad," she whispered as she worked on opening the bottle. She didn't know if it's her parents' absence from years gone by or Jamie not being there that made the thought of having a celebratory drink seem bittersweet. Still, she smiled. There was so much in the future to look forward to.

"Today," Claire began, saluting the air with the wee bottle of whisky, "I'm going to honour my uncle's wish, and we're going to start our own new tradition. It was far too long ago that I lost you both, and even though I would give anything to have you both here with me, I wouldn't trade the time I spent growing up with uncle Lamb. So, from now on, every year, I'll celebrate your legacy, instead of dwelling on what could have been." She touched their headstones once more. "I wish both of you could be here to meet Jamie and see what a great job uncle has done being a parent. I have no doubt you're always watching over us. But I want you to know you also had a hand in raising me, with mum's little nuggets of wisdom written in her diary. Thank you for that and know you'll always be in my heart."

She raised her whisky. "To you, mum and dad. I love you both."

She sipped her drink, and as she swallowed a mouthful of the peaty alcohol, the wind lifted the pages of diary once more. She read the first passage her eyes landed on.

_ When the stormy clouds follow us with the turbulent concert of thunder, know that the liberating rain will finally wipe away the tears from our eyes. _

Suddenly out of nowhere a fat blob of water droplet fell onto the page, and when she looked up, she realised for the first time the clouds had drifted to cover the sun. Grabbing her phone from her pocket, she sent a quick text to Geillis, letting her know she would be heading home soon. With a smile, she said goodbye to her parents and gathered her things before she could get caught in the rain.

..........

Claire fished around in her oversized handbag to find her purse as the taxi slowly came to a standstill. She was just pulling a few pound notes when her phone rang.

She groaned when she saw Geillis' name flashing on the screen. "Ah, blooming heck."

When she paid the driver, she answered the call as she struggled to climb out of the vehicle.

"Geillis, hey. Did you get my voice message? I'm sorry I missed my flight in Oxford, so I'm catching the next flight from London. Sorry I'll be late."

She stepped out onto the kerb and gasped. It started to rain hard. Again. Squealing, she ran for the nearest cover, glad she only had a duffle bag to haul.

"Yes, I got yer message but are ye fucking kidding me? How could ye have missed yer flight?"

She paused, took huge deep breaths before making a mad dash to terminal five. "Well, it started to rain unusually hard," she explained huffing. "The Airbnb owner offered to drive me to the airport, but his car broke down on the way, so I missed my flight in Oxford. The best next flight I could get was here in London."

"Yer uncle was very anxious and fidgety when I told him about yer voice message."

"Oh, well, that's to be expected. Uncle Lamb has never planned a birthday surprise before."

"Please make sure you get in the next plane."

"Wow, you're really into this surprise party for me. Who's anxious now?"

"Weel, I put in a lot of effort, so I don't want ye to muck it up."

"I'm so sorry if I sound like I'm taking this lightly, but I'm in a bit of rush here too. Thank God I've printed my boarding pass. I think I'm running a bit late."

"Claire! Don't ye bloody dare miss this flight too or I swear to God ..."

She was trying to walk past a big group when she slipped on the wet tiles. As she let out a scream, her phone and bag went flying in all directions, and she fell heavily on her bottom. When she tried to get up, she slipped again and this time landing on her knees. She grunted when she tried to get up.

"Oh, bugger, bugger!" she muttered, wincing as the pain shot up her leg.

People crowded around her, asking if she was alright as two men helped her up. Mumbling she was fine, she quickly grabbed her handbag, but when she picked up her phone, the screen was cracked. _ Bloody hell! Whatever next! _

"Claire? Hello? Are ye still there?"

"I can hear ye Geillis," she replied, straightening her coat and scarf.

"Hello? Hello? Claire? Ah fuck, she's gone. Probably ran out of battery again. I swear I'm going to kill her."

Realising Geillis couldn't hear a word she was saying, she stuffed her phone back into the pocket of her coat with a sigh of resignation. As the crowd dispersed to catch their own flights, she scanned the area once more in case she'd dropped something else. Satisfied she got everything, she limp-ran to the boarding gate and realised she was the last passenger to board that flight.

..........

By the time Claire made it out of the terminal in Edinburgh, it was already eight in the evening, and she was hungry, bruised, cold, and missing Jamie terribly. To make her discomfort worse, her clothes, still slightly damp from the rain earlier, hadn't dried properly during the flight. She'd tried to change them in the cramp plane's toilet, but too bruised and sore from her fall, she couldn't even manage to lift her leg into a pair of jeans. She still couldn't believe the string of bad luck she'd endured after visiting her parents' grave. Maybe that's what happened when you decide to celebrate your birthday on their death anniversary.

Claire had taken another sneak peek on the last passage she read from her mother's diary. As she reread them again and again, she took the meaning literally and surmised it was probably a warning of the impending rain. Shaking her head, she tamped down the absurd thoughts, scanned the arrivals and was relieved to see Geillis walking towards her.

"Oh my God, what happened to ye? Ye look like a drowned rat!"

Claire wanted to cry and collapsed into Geillis' arms but refrained herself from doing so, afraid of causing a scene. She'd had enough of that in London earlier, so instead, she quickly filled her friend in with the incidents that took place as they made their way to the bathroom so she could change into some fresh clothes. It took them half an hour to make her look decent, and by the time they were in Geillis car, she was ready for bed.

"Christ Geillis is there any chance we can do this birthday party tomorrow? I'm really bone-tired, and all I need right now is a bath and a warm bed."

"Oh no, you don't! A lot of thought has gone to preparing your birthday, so suck it up, princess." When Claire didn't reply, Geillis rummaged through her bag and got some paracetamol. "Here take this, this should take the pain from yer bumps and bruises," she said, handing her the painkillers and a bottle of water.

Grateful, Claire took the medicines and popped two tablets into her mouth. "Sorry for sounding selfish and ungrateful, but it's just that I'm a bit emotional after visiting my parents' grave and missing Jamie so much. I haven't even spoken to Jamie all day."

"Not Jamie's fault, hen. Even if he had a chance to call now, your phone is damaged anyway. Besides, he's busy rearranging the stars in heaven for ye." Geillis handed her a bandana. "Here put this over yer eyes. And make sure ye cannae see a thing."

Claire glared at her. When she saw Geillis was serious, she groaned. "Oh no, Geillis, please no! Do I have to? I promise I will look surprised when we get to wherever we're going. Besides, is this really necessary if there's only me, you, Joe and uncle Lamb?"

Geillis gave her a sympathetic look. "Look, just humour me, alright? I ken it's been a rough day, but I need ye to trust me on this one. Just remember, Lamby had his heart set on this."

It was no use arguing with Geillis when she had no fight in her left. Grumbling under her breath, Claire gave in and tied the bandana over her eyes. When she was done, Geillis checked if she'd done it right.

"Good lass," Geillis said, starting the car and guiding it out from the parking lot.

They rode in silence for the next few minutes, and with all the turns and roundabouts Geillis took, Claire gave up guessing where they were heading to. She was relieved when they finally stopped as she was beginning to feel nauseous. With Geillis' erratic driving and impatience with slow-moving vehicles, Claire's stress level had reached an all-time high by the time her friend turned off the ignition.

Geillis hurriedly got out of her side of the car and helped Claire. "Right, here we are! Mind yer steps, we dinnae want a repeat from the London incident."

"That wasn't funny," Claire scolded, grabbing Geillis' hand. She sniffed the air for some clues to their location, but the one thing that stood out most was the eery stillness of their surrounding. The only sound she could hear was the traffic from a distance. "Jesus, where are we?"

"Patience, lass," Geillis replied, tugging her hand and guiding her forward. "We'll get there soon enough."

They walked for several metres, and when they finally stopped, Claire heard keys jiggling, some electronic beeping sound followed by a heavy door opening. She knew they weren't anywhere near the city and certainly not in a residential building. As they shuffled in, the loud echo of their movements made her think of empty open spaces. "I hope this is not a slaughterhouse you're leading me to. You're mentally unstable enough to come up with something like that."

"Ach, ye're sense of drama never ceases to amaze me."

"And your sense of humour is sometimes sick."

Geillis laughed as she gently pushed Claire into the lift. "Not far to go! Take huge big deep breaths and just remember, no one is making any sick jokes on ye. This is yer day, and it's high time we do a bit of celebration ...Lamby style."

"I don't even have a clue what his style is, so whatever he's got in store for me, it'll definitely be a surprise, and I don't think I would need to pretend anything."

"No, I don't think so either." The lift pinged, and the door slid open with a whoosh. "Alright, this way, we're almost there."

"Oh dear, here we go," she mumbled.

They stepped out, walked some more and then stopped again. Claire heard another door opened and Geillis gently pushed her inside. She held her breath, her heart already near her throat, unsure what to expect next. She just hoped no one was going to jump on her and shout "surprise!" as she had a strong feeling her nerves wouldn't be able to take it after the day she'd already had. Before Claire knew what was happening, Geillis gave her a bear hug. "Happy Birthday, hen," she whispered, her voice suddenly laced with choked emotions. "Just enjoy this, okay? Soak it all in. Promise me."

Surprised at her friend's sudden change in demeanour, Claire could only embrace Geillis back, thinking uncle Lamb must have done something extraordinary to get her all worked up.

"Ye can take off the bandana now and open yer eyes," Geillis whispered.

Before Claire could respond, Geillis stepped back, and the door suddenly shut. _ Ah, hell! _ She whipped off the covering from her eyes and blinked. She was engulfed in darkness. But there was the distant soft glow of city lights coming from outside the window and other than that, she couldn't see a thing. "Hello? Anyone in here? Please don't shout and jump and scare the bejesus out of me, because if you do, I'm out of here."

Nothing. No response.

She carefully moved forward until her hands grasped the ledge of the window and squinted. It was too dark to see and decipher the place she was in. But one thing she was sure of, she was outside of Edinburgh as its silhouette and lights were visible from where she stood.

She heard a whirring sound, and then all of a sudden, brightness replaced the darkness outside, as floodlights illuminated a wide-open space of green. She gasped when she realised she was looking down at a rugby field. It was complete with covered stands, benches and team shelters and even the lines on the mowed field were freshly marked with white. On the far end was a gigantic white screen and surrounding the area were netting erected in place. Everything looked brand spanking new and fresh. It could only mean she was in Jamie's academy. Shaking her head, she laughed out loud. _ He's done it, my bloody Scot has gone and done it! _

Tears started to fall as pride for Jamie overflowed in bucket loads. She was about to grab her phone from the pocket of her coat, but she remembered it wasn't working. So instead she allowed herself to cry like a child, knowing how far Jamie had come and at what cost. This was what he'd always wanted and worked so hard for, and she couldn't be happier for him and what he'd accomplished.

"Why the tears, Sassenach? Don't ye like it?"

Her heart jumped out of her chest, and the moment she spun around, she heard something clicked, and the light in the room went on. Jamie was sat on an office desk, looking ruggedly handsome in his black shirt, faded jeans and a leather jacket, and sporting a week-old scruff.

"Jamie!" she breathed.

He beamed, and it's the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. With her heart pumping madly, she took quick steps towards him and launched herself into his arms.

He laughed out loud as he caught her, lifting her against him and burying his face into the crook of her neck. "Mo chridhe," he murmured. "Christ, I've missed ye." He inhaled deeply, his lips warm and tantalising against her skin.

"Not as much as I've missed you," she whispered, raining kisses on his jawline. When they drew away, she looked into his eyes, all the restlessness from the past few days dissolving in the warmth of his body heat. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to do a live interview."

His hands gripped her waist and leaned his forehead against hers. "I did have an interview, but it was done early this morning. The show featured it tonight as live even if it wasnae. I didnae want to miss yer birthday for anything, so we did a pre-recording."

"But when are you going back?" she asked, pulling back. "I love the fact you came here for my birthday, but does that mean you will be away longer because you came here today?"

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "I've finished everything I needed to do." He gave her a lopsided grin, unable to hide his joy. "I did a lot of rescheduling as I didn't want to hang around and wait in between interviews and photocalls. I told them I have a lot of business obligations, so I managed to convince them to scramble their timetable for me."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Really? So, that's it?" She smiled at him, happier than she could fully express. "No more public appearances?"

"Aye, that's it. The only interview I will entertain in the future will be for the academy." He brushed his lips against hers. "Oh, by the way, happy birthday, Sassenach!"

She linked her hands behind his neck. "Thank you. You being here is the best birthday gift ever and by the way too, congratulations on the completion of your academy. But how on earth did you do all of this so fast?"

"Weel, when I bought this sports complex, all the infrastructure were already here in place, and that helped a lot financially. It needed a lot of work done, and an additional extension to the building, but that wasnae much of a problem as Willie has a great construction team. The extension isnae quite finish yet though, but as ye saw, the field is complete. We are still waiting for some of the equipment for training and gym to arrive. But they're on their way. And this here ..." he waved a hand in the air. "...will be my office."

Claire looked around the spacious room, taking it all in for the first time since she came in. It was beautiful, masculine and fit for a rugby academy director. The whole space had been fitted out with rich dark wood, high-quality furnishings and the latest electronic gadget, including a massive TV on one wall. The exposed brick wall and the wide window overlooking the rugby field lent the room a more modern, twenty-first-century edge, without compromising practicality. It was simply too stunning for words.

Claire untangled herself from Jamie and walked over to the window. "This office reminds me of a private box in Murrayfield stadium. You have a bird's eye view of the whole field. As well as an uninterrupted panorama of Edinburgh."

"That's why I chose this space for my office." He stood behind her and pointed to the roof of the stand's cover. "And over there, Sassenach, is one of the spots where the sign and logo of the academy are going."

"Yes, I can see it already, Jamie," she whispered. "In big, bold, beautiful letters ...James Fraser Academy."

Jamie cleared his throat. "About that, Sassenach, I have something to show ye."

She turned around to face him and watched as he took out a bundle of folded papers from the inside of his jacket and placed it in her hand.

"What's this?"

He smiled nervously and nodded. "Take a look."

It was some sort of official document. Claire flicked through all the pages, skimming paragraphs as she went, but it was all legal jargon to her. "I don't understand, Jamie."

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, his face turning red. "It's on the last page. Tell me what ye think."

There were only three sections on the page, and right at the bottom where Jamie's signature was supposed to be on the dotted line, was blank. Claire carefully read the words, and as the meaning behind them began to sink in, her heart started to race. Jamie had named his academy FRASER-BEAUCHAMP RUGBY ACADEMY.

She licked her lips and reread the page again, just to make sure she didn't misunderstand anything. "Jamie, but why ..." When she tore her gaze away from the paper, her heart stopped. Jamie was down on one knee in front of her, holding out her mother's engagement ring.

"Sassenach," he said gruffly. "I ken I do a lot of things poorly and a few things well. And when I'm with ye, I feel I can achieve anything and everything. Ye make me a better person, and I want to keep getting better with ye by my side. What I'm trying to say is, I want to spend the rest of my life with ye. I want to have babies with ye and grow old with ye. And if you agree to be my wife, what's mine will be yers, that's why I havenae signed that paper yer holding yet. And I swear as God is my witness, I will cherish ye with every fragment of my being each and every day until I draw my final breath." He swallowed audibly and whispered, "Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, will ye marry me?"

She gasped. Every ounce of oxygen and emotion she felt for Jamie poured out of her with such incredible force, she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face. "Oh, Jamie ..." Her hand clapped over her mouth, stifling her cry.

"Sassenach?"

"Oh, this all too much."

He stood up and pulled her into his arms. "Sassenach, are ye upset because I asked ye to marry me?"

She shook her head and pressed her face against his chest, inhaling his clean, masculine smell. She was crying because they were two broken people when they first met, and despite all odds and their past, their pain had brought them together. It was the messiness of their histories that drove them, and the damage that came with it connected them at a soul level. The scars they carried were so deeply embedded they couldn't see them anymore but recognised them in each other. It would have been easy to wallow in bitterness and succumb to all the negative emotions, but somehow in understanding each other's hurt, they were able to heal and forgive their own shortcomings and give them the strength to have faith in love.

Jamie's hold tightened. "Please tell me those tears mean ye're saying yes. Because if it isnae, this would go down in history as the worse birthday present ever."

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him and laughed through her tears. "Oh God, Jamie, yes, I want to marry you."

A single tear slid down Jamie's eye as he slid her mother's ring into her finger with trembling hands. And when he kissed her with so much reverence, it felt like they were kissing for the first time. As they gradually pulled away, he wiped the tears from her face. "Uncle Lamb gave me this ring to give to ye. He said this ring has been missing for a while and he found it a few weeks ago. Maybe it's a sign yer ma approves of me."

Claire laughed. "Oh, my mum and dad definitely approve. You don't need to worry about that."

"If ye dinnae approve of the ring, I can buy a new one. I cannae give ye my mother's because she's given it to Willie already."

"Oh, Jamie, this is perfect," she said, splaying her fingers out to admire the jewellery. It was a simple platinum Art Deco ring with two matching cut diamonds in a square frame. It had belonged to her father's mother.

"That's good then if ye think so," he grinned, putting on a pair of AirPods into his ears. "Now are ye ready for this?"

"What are you doing?"

Jamie didn't reply as he swiped a few times on his phone. When he shoved it back into his pocket, he smiled at her and pulled her into his arms. "I want everyone that matters to know that ye said yes. So, Sassenach, ye really do want to marry me?"

"Yes, Jamie, I want to marry you. I have the ring on now, don't I?"

A sudden loud roar of cheers came from the TV, and when she turned around, she was stunned to see Jamie's family, uncle Lamb, Joe and Geillis applauding and cheering on the screen.

"Oh, my God, so this is the surprise," she whispered, more to her herself than to Jamie.

While more shouts of congratulations and good wishes followed, Uncle Lamb's face filled up the TV screen. "Well, what are you both waiting for?" he grumbled into the camera, his face comically up too close. "Everyone is starving. Show us a kiss and come down here and let's celebrate."

Jamie and Claire both laughed and obliged their family and friends. When they got carried away kissing, another uproar ensued reminding them of where they were. With hesitation but with laughter, they untangled themselves from each other's embrace and left Jamie's office, heading down to what would one day be the cafeteria.

But before they entered, Jamie stopped her and pulled her into his arms once again. "Thank ye for choosing me, Sassenach. I still cannae believe I get to call ye my fiancee. But please, let's not make this a long engagement because I cannae wait to start our life together and start calling ye my wife."

She smiled up at him. "I don't want a long engagement neither nor do I want it all over the papers, nor do I wish for a fancy wedding. If ye want we can get married tomorrow."

Jamie shook his head. "Now, Sassenach, dinnae be silly. I want a proper wedding, and I want to see ye walking the aisle in yer dress. I'm gonnae get married only once, and I want to do this right."

"Fine, now kiss me before everyone starts looking for us."

"I love ye," he whispered before he lowered his head to kiss her.

"And I love you too," she murmured against his lips.

When Jamie's phone started to beep, they both groaned in despair.

"Come, Sassenach, we have a double celebration coming up, and everyone has been waiting for hours.."

With smiles in their faces and hearts, they entered the room to the cheers of their love ones.

As they walked hand in hand, Claire realised that loving Jamie will never cease to amaze her. He was like thunder and the gentle rain that follows. He was both fire and balm to her soul. There was no doubt there will be heartaches and pain along the way, but they've seen each other's mess and brokenness, and they still loved each other and came out stronger. She used to think it was fate when he caught her fall from the church window. But now, after all the twist and turns they'd been through, she believed fate is what one makes out of it - you get the love you fight for and the one you think you deserve. Their destiny was to nurture that love and keep reminding themselves, that whatever life throws at them, they will always find their way to each other.

[isitgintimeyet]

Road To The Aisles

AO3

Previous

Happy Sunday. Hope it’s a good one for everybody. Another chapter and the wedding is getting closer. Time for a hen party...Warning: nsfw

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge @wickedgoodbooks @happytoobserve and to everyone who reads, comments, likes or reblogs x

Chapter 20: A Convivial Carousing

“What's so unpleasant about being drunk?"

"Ask a glass of water!”

― Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Claire thought she had been quite clear about this to Geillis. She distinctly remembered sitting in her office a few weeks ago when the subject had first been broached. Geillis had run through a list of possible suggestions for a hen party; beginning with a weekend in Benidorm (“imagine, sangria by the bucketful and eye candy in speedos”) all the way to a meal out with friends (“nice and safe”) detouring via an Ann Summers’ sex party (“It’s jes’ like a Tupperware party, ye ken, but with more cocks”), skydiving (“that adrenaline rush, as good as sex, I reckon”) and a burlesque dance class (“yer man’ll thank ye fer it later”).

When Claire had vetoed all the suggestions apart from a meal and drinks with friends, Geillis had then changed tack and began listing some well prepared ideas to “make the evening go with a bang, aye?”. Using the power of veto once more, Claire had made clear her thoughts on ‘pin the cock on the hunk’, any games involving dares or forfeits, any performers of the semi-(or un-)clad variety or costumes announcing that they were a hen party.

Geillis had tutted vociferously but eventually shrugged and agreed to Claire’s conditions.

So, why was she now sitting in this cocktail bar, wearing a sash proclaiming her to be a bride, while sucking her (admittedly rather moreish) cocktail through a plastic penis? She looked along the table at her friends, each wearing a matching sash and all busy writing on cards provided by Geillis, sharing their tips for a sexually successful marriage.

Jenny caught her eye and smiled. “I dinna think I ought tae be suggesting sex tips fer ma baby brother. It’s a wee bit —“

“Yucky? Disturbing?” Isobel ventured.

Geillis just caught the tail end of the conversation. “Only if ye’re doing it right.”

She winked before resuming her writing.

Claire drained her cocktail and moved on to the next already waiting for her. She studied Geillis over the rim of her glass, noting the glint in her eye as she wrote her contribution on the card. No doubt sharing some tips from her and Dougal’s activities, Claire told herself, interesting to read but maybe not her and Jamie’s type of thing.

As Geillis worked her way around the table, gathering up the cards, the door of the bar opened and a ‘fireman’ came in, tall and broad shouldered in his overly tight uniform. He carried his helmet in one hand and a portable speaker in the other. He stood for a moment glancing around before spotting Claire and her friends. He strode towards them, a cheeky grin on his face.

Claire felt herself redden and prayed for the ground to swallow her up. She cursed the sash proclaiming her to be the bride again; she cursed the balloons, spelling out H-E-N, tied to her chair; but most of all, she cursed Geillis, who had promised faithfully that there would be absolutely no adult entertainment this evening.

She glared across at Geillis, who returned her gaze with a confused expression of her own and shook her head slightly. Claire quickly watched the rest of her friends for any knowing smiles.

By now, the fireman had reached their table.

“I’m here on an emergency. Someone,” he looked directly at Claire. “Someone is too hot to handle.”

He sucked the air through his teeth noisily, in a parody of a passionate sigh. Claire did the only thing possible. She drained her cocktail and reached for the next one waiting for her.

“So,” the fireman drawled in a fake American accent, rotating his hips suggestively. “I’m going to have to use my hose… my extra long—“

He stopped abruptly as one of the bar staff tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, gesturing to a room off the main bar area.

Shamefaced, the fireman shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, hen,” he now spoke with a broad Glaswegian accent. “This isna the right party. I’d best be heading.”

His eyes lingered on Geillis, now smiling coquettishly, before he turned and followed the barman. His arrival at the correct party was heralded by a series of loud whoops and cheers, clearly audible even over the hubbub of Saturday night two-for-one cocktail drinkers.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief and felt her stomach muscles unclench.

“Ye ken, Claire, I wouldna do something like that tae ye.” Geillis patted her hand. “I kent how much ye didna want that kind of thing. So, why don’t we have another cocktail, I’ll collect up the cards and we’ll see what kind of perverts ye have fer friends.”

Whether it was the sheer relief that Geillis had no embarrassing entertainment on the agenda, or the heady mix of cocktails coursing through Claire’s veins, but she finally decided to give in and throw herself wholeheartedly into the silly and potentially embarrassing hen party spirit.

Clearing her throat dramatically, she read each of the cards out loud, everyone trying to guess the originators. Some were obvious; who else but Geillis would have written about, in great graphic detail, a suggestion involving handcuffs, floggers and a black leather dominatrix outfit? And it was clearly Isobel who gave advice about the healing power of a hug. (“Not necessarily sexual,” she clarified. “But vital.”)

But Claire would never have guessed that it was Mary, the shy but efficient theatre nurse, who advised her to have a ‘toy cupboard’ next to the bed and always have spare batteries to hand. And as for a now clearly drunk Jenny’s confessions about her role playing adventures with Ian (a somewhat complex plot involving a Highland warrior and innocent serving wench fleeing the redcoats), well, Claire felt that was something best kept between the girls, and not to be shared with her future husband.

The rest of the evening passed in a whirl of chatter, laughter and alcohol. Claire knew she was drunk, not steaming drunk like Jenny, whose eyes were closed and her chin propped up with her hands, but in that tipsy phase when everything is wonderful… and shiny... and hilarious… and full of love.

Suddenly the bright overhead lights made Claire’s eyes begin to water. “What’s going on?” She asked.

Geillis began to gather up her belongings. “That’s it. It’s one am. Time tae go home.”

“But… but… can I not have another drink? I liked the..er.. orange one. Can I have another orange one?”

Geillis laughed and picked up Claire’s bags. “Ye’ve had about half a dozen different orange ones, Claire. It’s time fer the taxi.”

“Where’s Jenny?” Claire looked around.

“Ah, Weel, Isobel is seeing her home. I tell ye, it’s jes’ as well ye’ve some sensible friends, otherwise I dinna ken how ye’d go on. C’mon now, taxi’s waiting.”

Claire stood up as Geillis reached across and untied the balloons. Claire grabbed her arms and pulled her close.

“Can I thank you, G, for tonight, and for… well, for everything.” Her breath was warm on Geillis’s cheek. “You’re a real friend and, amazingly sober, I must say even after…”

Claire tried, unsuccessfully, to peer at her watch over Geillis’s shoulder. “...even after ...after lots and lots and lots of cocktails.”

Geillis kissed her cheek. “Nae bother, I didna have a lot tae drink. I knew ye wasna a big fan of the whole hen party thing and I wanted tae make sure this night was jes’ right fer ye. Now let’s get ye home. Back tae yer fiancé.”

“Thank you, G… have I already said that?” Claire started to follow Geillis out of the bar then stopped abruptly, putting her hand to her mouth.

“What’s the matter? Ye’re no’ going tae puke are ye?” Geillis quickly began to search for a plastic bag.

“No… no, I’m not puking, but, G, imagine… it’s all thanks to you that I’m here, getting married to Jamie. If you hadn’t given him my number in ED, we would never have got together, never dated, never fallen in love…” Claire sniffed and rubbed her eyes.

“Och, away wi’ ye. I tell ye, the pair of ye were born fer each other. Ye would have met either way. Mebbe me giving him yer number was jes’ a shortcut.” Geillis gave Claire a quick hug before pulling away. “Now come on, the taxi driver will have started his meter and I am no’ paying any more than the price I agreed on the phone!”

************

Jamie glanced at his watch as the doorbell rang. He yawned, stretched and switched the television off before walking to the front door.

The doorbell rang again. As he unlocked the door, it rang for a third time, a prolonged, urgent ring. He opened the door to find Claire giggling as she leant against the door frame, her shoulder pressing into the doorbell.

He waved to Geillis in the waiting taxi before following Claire into the hall. She spun around and flung herself into Jamie’s arms, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Ignoring his sudden exhalation of air, she kissed him noisily on the lips before nuzzling his neck and blowing raspberries against his skin.

“A good night, I take it. And a wee bit drunk too,  are we?” Jamie ventured a guess.

Claire pulled away, indignantly. “No, I’m not. Are you? You seem a bit unsteady there on your feet.”

“Well, what have you been drinking then?”

“Oh, some absolutely scrummy cocktails. I started with a slow comfortable screw. Have you had one of those?”

Jamie smiled. “Frequently.”

“How about a slow comfortable screw against the wall?”

“No’ fer a while.”

“And I had a silk panties martini… to match what I’m wearing.” Claire undid the zip on her jeans to confirm.

“Then I had a couple of flaming orgasms… mmm, so good.”

“Ah so, multiple orgasms. I tend tae stick tae the one, myself.”

“And I think there might have been a slippery nipple in there somewhere,” she hiccuped.

Jamie steered Claire to the stairs. “You head up tae bed, Sassenach.”

“Are you not coming too?” She pouted.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Just locking up.”

***************

Armed with a bottle of water and two paracetamol for the morning, Jamie entered the bedroom, fully expecting Claire to be fast asleep and snoring. On the contrary, she was still very much awake, lying on top of the covers, clad only in a red thong and matching red bra. The rest of her clothes lay in a heap on the floor.

“See, red silk panties,” she giggled, flicking the elastic on the thong.

“Aye, not quite silk though, jes’ a wee bit of lace as far as I can see. Now, come on, get in tae bed. Ye’ll be needing yer sleep.”

“But I’m not tired,” she protested as she scrambled onto her hands and knees and worked her way down the bed to where Jamie stood. “C’mon, Mr. Fraser, let’s have some fun.”

She knelt up and let her hands run around the waistband of his jogging bottoms, her fingernails lightly raking the skin.

Jamie inhaled deeply. “Claire, Sassenach, no. I dinna want tae take advantage of ye when ye’re drunk.”

“Jamie,” Claire’s voice was stern. “I may have had a few to drink, but I am fully aware of what I am doing...”

She edged the waistband down over his hips, his cock already standing proud. She ran a finger down its length, watching Jamie’s stomach muscles tense as he tried to calm the sensations she was arousing. He could feel her breath warm against his thigh.

“... And so it seems does our friend here. Don’t fight me, Jamie. I’ve had a plastic penis in my mouth for most of the evening. Now it’s time for the real thing.”

Grabbing his buttocks, she pulled Jamie closer to her before bringing one hand to cup his balls, massaging them in her palm. She wrapped her other hand around the base of his cock as she took him fully in her mouth.

Jamie closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to succumb to Claire’s ministrations. The warmth of her mouth as she rhythmically worked up and down, her tongue stroking and caressing made him harder than he thought possible. He entwined his fingers in her wild curls, encouraging her to take more of his length into her mouth.

He pulled back slightly as he felt his excitement building, keen to try and prolong the experience. Claire moaned, a small mew of disappointment, and brought him closer to her again, resuming the same relentless rhythm.

His breathing grew ragged. “Sassenach,” he groaned. “Sassenach, I canna … I canna…”

She felt his release, warm in her mouth as he stilled then withdrew. Jamie, panting, opened his eyes to see Claire, kneeling back on her heels, her curls in wild disarray, cheeks flushed, breasts nearly escaping from the confines of her bra. Her nipples, dark and erect, were visible through the red lace, her panties clearly damp.

She smiled, a lazy smile of self satisfaction as she swallowed then licked her lips. Jamie gasped at this wanton image in front of him.

“Sassenach,” his voice was husky. “I’ve an idea. Can I get our special camera?”

Claire nodded. “Ooh, yes. I’ve a couple of ideas myself, Mr. Fraser.”

As Jamie went in search of the camera, Claire lay back on the pillows and laughed. All those tips tonight for a successful sex life, she told herself, and I don’t think we’ll need any help in that area… ever.

[cmcreid-warriorprincess]

Havensdale Holidays <3

Part 1 - IC

  Who is your fave/s character of your own?

I have a bit of a list which I'll share but my #1 fave character of my own is Hailie Tyler. She survived a 1.0 Gossip Girl roleplay as an OC before being integrated into Havens. I love her gothy bi princess vibes with all my soul. The rest, in no particular order, are: Tessa, Stella, Paul, Ian, Jenny, Jess, Joey, Karen, Greg, Faye, Danny, Clary, Carrie, Amara & Andy.

  Who is your fave/s character of someone else’s?

OH WELL. Let's do this! My faves from y'all are Rachel, Claire, Charvi, Brianna, Maggie, Shelley, Leila, Maddie, Eleanor, Faith, Selena, Bonnie, Ruby, Juliette, Dexter, Vanessa, Katriel, Matt TO NAME A FEW...

   Fave interaction between your character and someone else’s?

I love every Greg and Juliette argument ever, they have been sincerely epic. ALSO, every convo that Mark and Ian have- especially their flashback where Ian is drunk and just met Ava, it's so fucking cute. That one Joey & Rachel para where he finds out she's a witch and she finds out he torched his gym, that's really emo.

   A ship you love?

Um, I love literally EVERY ship!!!!!! Gronnie, Fesse, Avian, Chana, Tayfred, Lulu & Andy, JESS AND GWEN TBH LOL HI, Olian, FAITH X DANNY, Carloex, Canny, VANTESSA to name a FEW. No one has to be this extra too.

  A crackship/rare pair you love?

Crackship/rare pairs I love include tbh romantic Ruby & Jess???? I'd swoon. Shelly & Cole??? I love them??? Claire Knighton marry every lady in Havens club. I love Ian and Shelley too hi. RACHEL AND JENNY WOW CHEF'S KISS.

  A plot/concept of your own and/or someone else’s you love?

I loved Ian almost turning off his humanity when he tried to bring Mark back BUT DIDN'T during hihghosts. Faye's car accident/amnesia fgreuihdjiks. UM JESS TURNING HER HUMANITY OFF THAT WAS MY FAVE. I've loved every Mark/Evelyn interaction when he's had his memory back!!! LEILA'S WHOLE HIGH SCHOOL JOURNEY TO BEING P-O-P-U-L-A-R. Um ???? Charlotte being turned into a werewolf to avoid death ???? Fave. OH the Karen / Charlie kidnapping shenanigans jesus. Rachel x Keith x Thomas MAGIC SHENANIGANS rip Keith. I could go on, I could go on. 

Part 2 - Not-So Secret Santa

Lauren!!! @foxy-vanessa Omg I'm literally still going on about how darn happy I am that Lauren joined this RP!!! She's brought so much fgruehidjks I love all her characters, especially her ladies lovin' ladies like hi, I'm swooning. My goal is to have all my gals flirt with her gals always. I love to read her writing so much and gosh???? I know she does angst SO WELL but that Vantessa fluff!!!! It literally makes me melt like I lit had to take Tessa for this (and now she's one of my fave charas). Basically, I hinted that Vanessa + Tessa were romantically into each other in bio and Lauren picked it up RIGHT AWAY and I was like !!!! yesss you get me. I love her OCs, I love her for taking iconic characters. I love all our connections. I love her beautiful aesthetics!!!!!! I'm just soo happy she's here <3333

[ecampbellsoup]

It's me again here to annoy you :3 But I was wondering if there are any moments in Outlander that you find underrated or underappreciated? For me, the friendship between Claire and Ned is a big one, as is the clan defending Claire's honor in the episode 'Rent.' (I think it was 'Rent.' I know it was season 1.) Anyway, you have great opinions, so I was just curious!

Hello darling!!!

Oh my goodness—you could never annoy me! Especially when it comes to Outlander questions; I relish them.

There are many relationships I find to be underrated—couldna agreed more with Claire & Ned comment. Particularly with minor characters who pop in and out, it’s harder to grow as attached to them. I am certainly guilty of zeroing in on Jamie and Claire because they are my favorites (sorry not sorry).

This list is going to be pretty long because I’m not known for my brevity hehe and once I started I realized how many incredible, nuanced relationships we have on this show!

Claire:

Claire & Murtagh: This precious, delightful friendship. There is a mutual respect, honor, and love between them. And they both fiercely love and protect Jamie. (UGH I CANNA. I AM SO READY TO SEE MURTAGH BACK ON SCREEN. MURTAGH I LOVE YOU.)

Claire & Jenny: These two truly are like sisters and love/fight accordingly. Watching them, particularly in season one, was a pure delight. However, this also made their distance in season three all the more acutely painful.

Claire & Geillis: Umm. WEEL. It didn’t turn out great, but this relationship was soooo intriguing to watch in season one.

Claire & Louise: Although Louise was not in many episodes, her friendship with Claire was a lovely foil to Claire’s characterization. Louise was also there for Claire after the death of Faith which ripped my wee heart out.

Claire & Master Raymond: I LOVE THEM OK. THEY LOVE AND LOOK OUT FOR EACH OTHER. WEE HERB HEALERS UNITE.

Claire & Mother Hildegard: MH actually sees Claire in her full talent and is such a loving mother figure to her.

Claire & Magnus: He was just so faithful and loving to Claire. Gosh I cry even thinking about how he greeted her when she came home after losing Faith.

Claire & Joe: How adorable and hilarious are these two? I mean “Lady Jane”—I die.

Claire & Elias: OH MY WORD. ELIAS POUND. Precious baby boy was only in one episode but my Laird—he left a lasting impression. Watching Claire mother him was beyond expression.

Claire & YTC: He calls her honorable wife. Need I say anything else?

Claire & Wee Ian: I would vote for them for President and Vice President, ok???

Jamie:

Jamie & Murtagh: This relationship is probably the least underrated of them all BUT STILL—I dinna think it’s appreciated enough. I don’t have enough words in my vocabulary to say how much I love these two.

Jamie & Jenny: THIS BROTHER AND SISTER PAIR IS WHAT I LIVE FOR. THEIR BANTER??? HYSTERICAL. THEIR LOVE??? EMOTIONAL.

Jamie & Rupert/Angus: I MISS RU & ANG ALMOST AS MUCH AS MURTAGH. Their wee quibbles—I lose it. Precious babies. Too good for this world.

Jamie & Dougal: The family blood is there, but the competitive edge that’s always hanging in the air is fascinating to watch unfold.

Jamie & Ian: They are just two precious brothers and they’ve been through war together. LOVE THEM OK.

Jamie & Bonnie Prince Charlie: Good Laird. I miss BPC. He was utterly ridiculous. Watching their interactions ALWAYS makes me burst out laughing. Literally.

Jamie & Lord John Grey: LJG was kind and good to Jamie when no one else was. I will forever be thankful for that.

(Honorable Mention to Bree x Jamie x Claire—this relationship is a given and only just beginning. EEEEEEEP)

I think that’s all of them for now!

What are yours, darling!?!

[jeremystrele]

Announcing The FINALISTS For The TDF + Laminex Design Awards 2021!

Announcing The FINALISTS For The TDF + Laminex Design Awards 2021!

TDF Design Awards

by Lucy Feagins, Editor

Archier’s Corner House – shortlisted in the Residential Architecture category. Photo – Rory Gardiner.

LEFT: Rob Kennon Architects, Elwood Bungalow. Photo – Derek Swalwell RIGHT: Edition Office, Kyneton House, both shortlisted in the Residential Architecture category. Photo – Ben Hosking

LEFT: Rosanna Ceravolo Design, South Yarra Apartment. Photo – Sean Fennessy RIGHT: Esoteriko, Bunker In The Treetops. Photo – Dave Wheeler

LEFT: Peachy Green, Sharp Street. Photo – Sarah Pannell RIGHT: Phillip Withers, The Toorak Garden. Photo – Amelia Stanwix

LEFT: Adam Cornish, MAKI Chair. Photo – Mattia Balsamini RIGHT: Johnny Nargoodah and Trent Jansen, Ngumu Janka Warnti Collection. Photo – Romello Pereira

LEFT: Articolo Lighting, Loopi Wall Sconce. Photo – Sharyn Cairns RIGHT: Dean Norton, Daylight. Photo – Dean Norton

LEFT: Liam Fleming, Post-Production. Photo –Grant Hancock RIGHT: Rona Rubuntja of Hermannsburg Potters. Photo – Courtesy Hermannsburg Potters

LEFT: Oat Studio, Capital Collection. Photo – Jenny Wu RIGHT: Ikuntji Artists + Publisher Textiles. Photo – Christian Koch (Ikuntji Artists)

LEFT: CASTLE + Gorman PlaygroundRachel Castle For Gorman Playground. Photo – Courtesy of Gorman. RIGHT: TWOOBS + Cungelella Art. Photo – Renee Johnstone.

LEFT: Jordy + Julia Kay of Great Wrap,  The only Australian made compostable cling wrap. Photo – Cubed Studios. RIGHT: Other Matter, Algae bioplastic vessels. Photo – Pier Carthew

LEFT: Ben Shields, Architecture and Interior Design. Photo – Rory Gardiner. RIGHT: Tsai Design, Architect. Photo – Tess Kelly

Another year, another AMAZING collection of entries in the TDF + Laminex Design Awards!

To be honest, after the difficult 18 months we’ve all had, we weren’t entirely sure what to expect from this year’s program. But we were absolutely blown away by the quality of entries we received. The standard was ESPECIALLY high this year, so we’d like to extend a huge thank you to everyone who entered, and of course, a massive congratulations to the finalists.

The images in this post represent just a small taste of the shortlisted projects in this year’s awards program. Over the next couple of months we’ll be sharing an in-depth look at each category shortlist more closely!

Residential Architecture

This category seeks to award one standout Australian residential architecture Project. Ground-up builds, renovations and additions are all eligible within this category.

Judges : Aaron Peters (Vokes & Peters), Tristan Wong (SJB) and Kerstin Thompson (Kerstin Thompson Architects).

The Residential Architecture award is presented by COLORBOND® steel.

Archer Office – Hamilton Courtyard Archier – Corner House Architects EAT – Bellows House Austin Maynard Architects – Garden House Benn & Penna Architects – Henley Clays Blair Smith Architecture – Brunswick Lean To Curious Practice – Lambton House Edition Office – Kyneton House FMD Architects – Coopworth Fox Johnston – SRG House Furminger – River House Nic Brunsdon – East Fremantle House Nielsen Jenkins – Mt Coot-Tha House Ron Kennon Architects – Elwood Bungalow Studio Bright – 8 Yard House Studio Prineas – Bona Vista Wiesebrock Architecture – Bellbrae House Wowowa – PONY

Interior Design

This category seeks to award one distinctive Australian residential interior design Project created by an individual or studio.

Judges : Pascale Gomes McNabb (Pascale Gomes McNabb Design), Sue Carr (Carr Architecture and Interior Design) and Mardi Doherty (Doherty Design Studio). 

The Interior Design award is presented by Miele.

Adam Kane Architects – Barwon Heads House Architects EAT – Carpenter’s Square House Edition Design – Melburnian Apartment Esoteriko – Bunker In The Treetops Fox Johnston – SRG House Hugh-Jones Mackintosh – The Weave House Lauren Egan Design – Victoria St Maria Danos Architecture – Henry Street Townhouse Rosanna Ceravolo Design – South Yarra Apartment YSG Studio – Dream Weaver YSG Studio – Soft Serve Studio Esteta – Mornington Peninsula House

Landscape Design

This category seeks to award one standout Australian Landscape Design project, completed in the last three years. Residential, public and community gardens are all eligible within this category.

Judges : Paul Bangay (Paul Bangay Garden Design), Amanda Oliver (Amanda Oliver Gardens) and Myles Baldwin (Myles Baldwin Design).

The Landscape Design category is presented by Eco Outdoor.

Bethany Williamson Landscape Architecture – Prospect Hill Dan Young Landscape Architect – Y3 Garden Fig Landscapes – Coolamon House Fig Landscapes – The Plot Ian Barker Gardens – Blairgowrie Mud Office – Essendon Outdoor Establishments – Kenthurst Gardens Peachy Green – Sharp Street Philip Withers – Lara Philip Withers – The Toorak Garden Rush Wright Associates – Victorian Emergency Services Memorial Studio Bright – 8 Yard House

Furniture Design

This category seeks to award one distinctive Australian furniture design project. Individual products and/or product ranges developed within Australia, bespoke pieces, fixed and freestanding furniture designs will be considered in this category.

Judges : Nick Rennie (Nick Rennie Studio), Khai Liew (Khai Liew Design).

The Furniture Design category is presented by Jardan.

Adam Cornish Design – MAKI Chair Real Non-Real – Formosa Coat Stand Biasol Studio – Strato Collezione Marmi BroadGrove Architects – Stool Dolly James Howe – J5 Credenza Like Butter – Kitta Parts Johnny Nargoodah and Trent Jansen – Ngumu Janka Warnti Collection Jordan Leeflang – Kilter Koala – Cork Sofa Marino Made – Round Desk René Linssen – Union Rosanna Ceravolo – By Product Ross Gardam – Breeze Collection Eva – Hideaway Table Collection

Lighting Design

This category seeks to award one distinctive Australian lighting design project. Individual products or product ranges developed within Australia, bespoke designs, one-off lighting projects and installations will be considered in this category.

Judges : Christopher Boots (Christopher Boots) and Celina Clarke (ISM Objects).

Alex Earl Lighting – Alex Earl Takeawei – Stack Lamp Dean Norton – Daylight Dean Toepfer – Solute Chandelier Edward Linacre – Sun Ivana Taylor – Wrapped Gestures Light South Dawn – Globosus Pendant svikis. – Layers Figgoscope – STARDUST Lamp Articolo Lighting – Loopi Wall Sconce Ross Gardam – Arbour Linear Pendant

Textile Design

This category seeks to award one distinctive Australian textile design project. One-off textile designs, textile collections and textile-based fashion or homewares products will be considered in this category.

Judges :  Luciana Wallis (Warwick Fabrics) and Sophie Matson (Kobn)

Caro Pattle – Woven Vase & Cup Instyle Interior Finishes – Native Kuwaii – Chronicle for Spring/Summer ’20 Takeawei – Glaze Test Woollen Blanket Curio Practice – Australian Woollen Blankets Nobody Denim x GEORGE – Woven Bag GH Commercial – Oceanic Commercial Carpet Collection Inkuntji Artists + Publisher Textiles – Inkuntji Artists + Publisher Textiles Paire – The Launch Of Paire – The World’s Comfiest Socks Badaam – The Meeting Place Oat Studio – Capital Collection Tara Whalley – New York Fashion Week Collection Pampa – Eclipse Amber Days – Wanala Collection

Handcrafted

This category seeks to award one outstanding Australian handcrafted project, completed by either an individual, group or organisation. A single handcrafted functional, decorative or wearable item, or a handcrafted product range will be considered in this category. Practitioners of any handcrafted discipline are eligible to enter.

Judges : Nicolette Johnson, Amanda Dziedzic and Elisa Carmichael.

Alison Frith – Ceramic Plinth Alison Jackson & Dan Lorimer – Flow Form Vases Alycia Marrday of Marrawuddi Arts & Culture – Baladjdji (Backpack) Erin.k jewellery + Koorie Tales – Source of Life + Essence at Dusk Georgina Proud – Flotsam//Jetsam Oh Hey Grace – A Place To Call Home Hamish Munro – The Joan Series Jan Vogelpoel Ceramics – Future Curve, Space Cadet and Curve Jenna M Lee – Body Language Eun Ceramics – Curved Other Matter – Algae Bioplastic Vessels Studio Kyoko Hashimoto – Kyoko Hashimoto Rings Liam Fleming – Post-Production Lucy Tolan – Seams Rona Rubuntja of Hermannsburg Potters – Selected works by Rona Rubuntja Sarah Rayner and Sophie Carnell– Florilegium … traversing the poetry of plants

Sustainable Design or Initiative

This category seeks to award one outstanding Australian sustainable designed product, concept, idea or initiative, developed by either an individual, group or organisation in the last three years. Any project which is exemplary of sustainable innovation is eligible, including functional products, furniture and lighting, as well as concepts, ideas and community initiatives with positive environmental outcomes.

Judges : Ross Harding (Finding Infinity), Nik Robinson (Good Citizens).

The Sustainable Design award is presented by Country Road.

The Better Uniforms Co. –Sustainable Better Uniforms Convolo Design – H_Station Ettitude – CleanBamboo Nobody Denim and GEORGE – Woven Bag Other Matter – Algae Bioplastic Vessels Jordy + Julia Kay of Great Wrap – Great Wrap, the only Australian made compostable cling wrap Single Use Ain’t Sexy – Dissolvable Hand Soap Tablet & Reusable Glass Soap Bottle ROCC Naturals – Rocc Naturals brand launch Cultivated (by Cult Design) – Cultivated Revival Projects – Zero Footprint Repurposing Initiative at Ferrars Street Pleasant State + Pop & Pac – Pleasant State – Drop into the Revolution Use Daily – Various Origins

Emerging Designer

This category seeks to award one outstanding designer, architect, independent creative or studio, working in any creative discipline, who has/have launched their current professional practice within the last five years.

Judges : Adriana Hanna (Kennedy Nolan), Danielle Brustman.

The Emerging Designer Award is supported by Phoenix Tapware. Ben Shields Charlie White Curious Practice Ulo Australia Brothers Fearon Fabrication Tsai Design Other Matter Lauren Haynes Nicole Lawrence Studio Wisebrock Architecture

Collaboration

This category seeks to award one collaborative design project, where two or more separate creative practitioners, businesses or entities have come together to create one collaborative product, product range, installation, built structure or other creative project.

The Collaboration Award is supported by Thames & Hudson. 

Judges : Jirra Lulla (Kalinya), Tyrone Wright (Rone) and Amanda Henderson (Gloss Creative).

Ikuntji Artists & Publisher Textiles – Ikuntji Artists & Publisher Textiles John Wardle Architects + Ash Keating Studio – Solar Pavilion Mud Australia + APY Art Centre Collective – Mud x APY Trent Jansen Studio + Johnny Nargoodah – Ngumu Janka Warnti Collection Please Please Please + Bergman & Co – Poodle CASTLE + Gorman Playground – Rachel Castle for Gorman Playground SKEEHAN Studio + ROU House – ROU House TWOOBS + Cungelella Art – Cungellela Art x TWOOBS Amber Days + Arkie Barton – Wanala Collection

WOW!

Winners will be announced in an awards ceremony at Deakin Edge, Federation Square in Melbourne on Thursday, September 30th 2021.

A huge thank you to our Judges, who are now undertaking the immense task of selecting just one winner in each category, along with a handful of commendations!  Thanks too to our presenting partner Laminex and category sponsors – COLORBOND® steel, Miele, Eco Outdoor,��Jardan, Thames & Hudson, Country Road and Phoenix Tapware!– for supporting the TDF +Laminex Design Awards 2021.

You can explore photographs of all the shortlisted projects over on the TDF Awards website. And, stay tuned for in-depth coverage of each category shortlist over the coming weeks – starting with a closer look at the Residential Architecture shortlist next Monday!

[shebeafancyflapjack]

For the Doctor who ask meme numbers 2 and 8?

2. Top 3 companions

This list usually changes, except for my Number 1 spot. In fact I think I answered this same question last time I did this meme so it might be a different order to that.

Number 3: Jo Grant - I have a real soft spot for Jo. She’s the companion I identify with the most. She’s not very bright, has poor eyesight (or at least Katy does, I headcanon Jo did as well but UNIT gave her contact lenses), is a bit of a clutz, yet does have skills that come in needed like her escapology and some level of trained self-defence. She’s also just incredibly adorable and I think she gets a bit unfairly overshadowed by Liz and Sarah Jane, who are both awesome but Jo often gets called a ‘weak female character’ in comparison to them and I really don’t see it. Just because someone isn’t super smart or always assertive doesn’t make them ‘weak’ - and Jo had a lot of courage, and while she wasn’t avert in pushing feminism as Sarah Jane, she rarely paid attention to the male characters telling her to stay put and be a good girl, including the slightly sexist Three. She’s the only companion in Classic Who to save the world TWICE by offering to sacrifice herself.  Even the Master seemed fond of her!

Number 2: Jamie McCrimmon - For very similar reasons as Jo but I won’t go into too much depth because Jamie is already a popular companion. Like Jo he’s not very bright but it’s mainly due to the era he’s from and put in contrast to the Doctor and then Zoe. He’s clever in other areas and always brave. Out of all the male companions the Doctor has had on the show, he’s the only one who never felt like a rival for ‘alpha TARDIS male’. They were best friends all the way through and Jamie always had the Doctor’s back. All the Two and Jamie clinging helps as well! 

Number 1: Donna Noble. Always Donna. Much like Jo, I can relate to Donna a lot but for different reasons. Drifting through life, not sure what to do, going from temporary job to another to make ends meat, wishing for adventure but needing someone to give you that push and be there with you. And once she’s out there, among the stars, she drives so much of the story and tries to help as many people as she can, while not being afraid to shout down those who are in the wrong. The relationship with her mother was interesting as well, I much preferred Sylvia as a character over Jackie or Francine, there was a lot more layers there, both resentment and disappointment but still with a loving foundation there. And her relationship with her gramps, Wilf, was adorable. But the main relationship was her with Ten and for me that just made Series 4 and, best of all, made me really enjoy Ten. I thought she brought out the best in him so much more than Rose or Martha or any character during the Specials (even Wilf). For reasons I’m not sure, because I adore David Tennant, I just couldn’t warm to his Doctor in the first two series…maybe I was a bitter Nine fan, I dunno, but when he was with Donna it was like they were a complete. They really were the DoctorDonna.

Honorable mention: the Brigadier. Never sure whether to count him as a companion but I adore him so much. Vastra, Jenny and Strax are also fun non-companions. Also Bill was so close to making my list and probably would have if she had stayed around for another series to give her more development and go into the stuff with her and her foster mum.

8. OTPS?

The Doctor/TARDIS. Honestly I feel like it’s the only One True Pairing this show can have as they are the only two ‘characters’ who are an eternal part of the show. As much as I might want some companions to stay forever, they just can’t. I know that doesn’t get in the way of everyones ships but it is a distraction for me. But honestly this was solidified in the beautiful episode The Doctor’s Wife which is one of my favourite episodes of Moffat’s era, even if I feel it’s a subject which would have been better explored in a longer, anniversary special (think Zagreus but…less crazy and shorter). 

I know I always make Doctor x Master references, and I do honestly think there is a deep love between them beneath the hatred, at the same time I think too much has gone on and the Master CONSTANTLY keeps doing these horribly evil things that go against everything the Doctor stands for, which even after Missy’s fate I’m certain s/he will do again because the show just always needs to have the Master be the Doctor’s ‘Moriarty’ to his Holmes. I could be wrong, it depends if Chibs decides to bring the Master back, and if there is hope for redemption. I would like to think so.

Doctor/Companion ships are something I enjoy more for fun but never really a serious ‘OTP’ thing. My closest to that would be Two/Jamie, Three/Jo, Four/Romana, Eight/Charley and Nine/Rose/Jack. Not a fan of the River Song arc, sorry. Tegan/Nyssa and Bill/Heather were precious, the latter obviously being beautifully explicit. Ian/Barbara is the best developed companion-character romance in my opinion of the show. I am still a heartbroken Janto fan, even though that’s Torchwood. Also I shipped the hell out of Orcini and Bostock in Revelation of the Daleks - now those two should have got a BF spin-off!

[laresearchette]

Thursday, March 21, 2019 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: THE FIRST 48: INSIDE ATLANTA (A&E Canada) 8:00pm/9:00pm

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME/CRAVE/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME AMERICAN RENEGADES

NETFLIX CANADA ANTOINE GRIEZMANN: THE MAKING OF A LEGEND

CURLING (TSN/TSN4/TSN5) 4:00am: World Women’s Curling Championship: Switzerland vs. Canada (TSN/TSN3/TSN4/TSN5) 9:00am: World Women’s Curling Championship: Canada vs. Russia

FIGURE SKATING (CBC) 4:00pm: World Figure Skating Championships - Men’s Short Program (CBC) 7:00pm: World Figure Skating Championships - Pairs Free Program

NHL HOCKEY (SN/SN360) 7:00pm: Bruins at Devils (TSN2) 7:30pm: Islanders at Habs (SNWEST/TSN5) 9:00pm: Sens at Flames (SN1) 9:00pm: Blue Jackets at Oilers (TSN3) 10:00pm: Jets at Knights

BIG BROTHER CANADA (Global) 8:00pm

WORKIN’ MOMS (CBC) 9:00pm/9:30pm: Kate heads to New York for a client pitch. Meanwhile in Toronto, Alice makes a desperate choice based on Anne’s recent actions and Frankie finds herself in the middle of an intensifying family conflict. In the Season Finale, Kate finds herself at a fork in the road. Anne realizes the truth about Alice. Ian guides Jenny to the light, while Val quantum leaps into love.

ZAPPED (BBC Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Brian is forced to perform in a travelling circus run by the sadistic Feffenhoffer. Barbara and Steg set out to rescue him while Herman accidentally traps a fairy. Stuck on Earth, Howell tries desperately to get back to Munty.

PURE (not the drug-dealing Mennonite one) (BBC Canada) 9:45pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Marnie is not OK. She's had x-rated thoughts for the last 3672 days and she doesn't know why or what they mean. When she jumps on a coach to London, she doesn't know a soul, not even herself, but in the city she will build a new life.

FIRE MASTERS (Food Network Canada) 10:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Teams of open-flame fanatic chefs face off in three culinary challenges for a chance at $10,000 and the title of Fire Master.

BURGERS, BREW & ‘QUE (Food Network Canada) 11:00pm/11:30pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Michael Symon gets in touch with his Greek heritage with a classic lamb and feta cheeseburger; an Italian-style burger stuffed with smoky mozzarella and prosciutto; a rabbit-meat hot dog with chili pepper toppings so spicy there's a release waiver. In Episode Two, Michael heads Asheville, N.C., where he smokes a whole hog in traditional Carolina style for the juiciest pulled pork sandwich; beignets stuffed with crawfish, shrimp and andouille sausage; burger with Atomic Death sauce and Hell Relish.

CANADIAN REFLECTIONS (CBC) 11:30pm: Foraldraskap/I Like Girls

MIKE ON MUCH IN CONVERSATION WITH... (Crave) 11:30pm: Mike chats with British singer Noel Gallagher; Shane's Digital Dessert features comic Chris Redd.

[otheroutlandertales]

Anonymous said: In canon, Jenny and Ian thought Jamie was dead until his belongings arrived from Castle Leoch - what was their reaction?

Anonymous said: Imagine Jenny questioning why Lallybroch wouldnt ever be hers.

The Trunk

by @whiskynottea

A trunk. Old, big, and heavy. From Leoch, the lad had said.

He had introduced himself as Alastair MacKenzie. Jenny had never seen the man before, but he could just as well have been her cousin. She, in contrast to Jamie, had never been to Leoch. All she knew about the MacKenzie side of her family was based on Jamie’s stories and her ma’s tales.

It was late in the night when the MacKenzie rider arrived, worn from the road. Black circles adorned his eyes, and his boots were caked with mud. They offered him food and a bed, but he declined. He had to leave.

His words reverberated in Jenny’s head even when the echo of his horse’s hooves had died on the dirt, his figure swallowed by the night. “Jamie Fraser and his wife left Leoch a few days ago.”

Jenny stared at the trunk, unable to move. The frown between her eyebrows etched deeper with every passing moment, the words sounding surreal in her ears.

Jamie and his wife.

The wee gommerel was alive. Alive and married.

With leaden feet, she took a step towards the trunk, then stopped. Another step, then halted again. She turned to look at Ian, whose lips had curled into a wide smile. She met his warm brown eyes with her surprised ones to discover he was tearing up.

It wasn’t the first time Jenny thought her brother dead. She had assumed Jamie had died during his flogging at Fort William, when her da whispered his name on his deathbed. She had thought she was left all alone, when a few days after her father’s funeral the redcoats banged on her door, demanding her brother give himself up. Her heart had fluttered in her chest and she had hardly hidden her smile as she informed the soldiers that she had no idea about her brother’s whereabouts.  

Since then, Jenny had been waiting for a letter. Anything, to tell her how he was fairing. She knew that Jamie couldn’t return to Lallybroch as long as he was a wanted man, but he could surely send word under a pseudonym. He could even send a person he trusted to find her at Lallybroch - but maybe he couldn’t trust anyone after his escape from the English.

Jenny had wished she could search for him. She had a good horse and excellent tracking abilities. But she also had Lallybroch, and she couldn’t leave it for such a long time. It was true, what she’d said to the redcoats - she had no idea where Jamie was.

So Jenny stayed at Lallybroch, hoping that the estate’s tenants would eventually hear some news of her brother. She had repeatedly asked them to inquire about a tall, red-headed lad with slanted blue eyes in their travels.

Two years had passed, each day crushing Jenny’s hopes under the endless waiting for a few words - words written by his hand. For news that never arrived. She had ceased looking at the door, all her hopes lost, when Ian came back from France.

It was him, who had brought news that Jamie had been with him.

“We fought together,” he’d said, “I always take up his place on the right, guardin' the weak side. Keeping him safe, ken?” He had winked at her once, while recovering from fever.

Jenny couldn’t believe her ears. If Ian would have talked about Jamie a few days before that, she wouldn’t have given his words a second thought, sure they were just fevered dreams confusing his mind, his love for Jamie strong even when he was close to death.

But Ian had been getting better, and he knew what he was talking about. After that, Jenny had spent countless hours with him while he was recovering from his injury, and Ian regaled her with stories about their adventures in France, about Jamie’s bravery and recklessness.

With Ian back at Lallybroch, everything had changed. The pain and shock of the first days had slowly disappeared, giving their place to a warmth that flooded her soul. The cracks of her heart were slowly mended, the emptiness of her life filled with Ian’s merciless banter and his endless patience.

Ian’s news about Jamie had rekindled Jenny’s faith. Her brother might come home, at last.

More years passed, but Jamie never appeared at Lallybroch’s gate. The dogs never barked happily around him, his tall shadow never darkened the ground.

She didn’t dare admit to herself he might be dead. It was only now, seeing the trunk, hearing the lad speak her brother’s name, that she realized she hadn’t taken a deep breath in a very long time.

The moment Ian started shaking his head, laughing out loud, Jenny fell next to the trunk, crying her heart out.

Jamie was alive.

She felt Ian’s arms around her, his chest still moving with laughter. “I should have known,” he said. “I should have known Jamie would be too stubborn to be dead.”

Violent sobs wracked her whole body, but her heart was light as a feather. Light, but full.

“Hush, a nighean,” Ian murmured, placing soft kisses on her head. “Hush, tis good. Tis all good.”

It was. She wasn’t the last Fraser anymore.

It took Jenny a few long moments to find her composure again. “He didn’t write,” she said as they moved on the settee, and pressed her lips in a tight line.

“Aye, he didn’t. But maybe he couldn’t do so, Jen,” Ian said, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“He couldna send a word, but he could find himself a wife?” She raised an eyebrow at her husband, challenging him to disagree with her.

Ian laughed again and squeezed her arm. “Ye ken Jamie. He can be impulsive.”

“Impulsive,” Jenny murmured. “Mmphm,” she added, crossing her hands in front of her chest. “And who is this lass, who married a man wi’ a price on his head?”

“Ye mean ye that wouldna marry me if I had a price on my head? My foot came wi’ a price, and you like it just fine,” Ian teased her, but Jenny only snorted in response.

“I’m serious Ian,” she said. “He’ll come home, d’ye think?” she asked, the harshness in her voice unable to disguise the hope shimmering underneath.

“I dinna ken, mo chridhe. But why would they send their clothes here, if they were no’ to come?”

Jenny frowned, her foot beating a monotonous rhythm against the floor as she was thinking.

Jamie and his wife, coming back home. What would they want?

Would Jamie come back as a free man, to take his rightful position as Laird Broch Tuarach?

Laird and Lady Broch Tuarach, Jenny thought, and smiled wistfully, thinking of her labor to keep Lallybroch standing. The fear, that the redcoats would come back again. The anxiety, that the food production wouldn’t be enough. The sleepless nights, before marrying Ian, when she had to stay awake and take care of the books.

All alone, and she had managed just as fine as her brothers would. She had cared for Lallybroch more than both of them and her father together. Since the day her ma had died, Jenny managed the house, cared for her da and raised her brother. She was always there, as Jamie came and went, first to Leoch and then to Paris. She was there, to tend to their da before he died. She was there because people needed her. There, because she had nowhere else to go.

Lallybroch was her home, even though it had never been hers. It wasn’t supposed to be, and if Jenny wanted to be honest with herself, she had never cared about titles. Lairds and ladies meant nothing to her. What mattered was the land, the tenants. And for that, she worked hard. She had taken care of everything time and time again. First alone, then with Ian at her side.

It was unfair, to give up the place that held her own sweat and blood, her tears and laughter. It was more than what she was doing, to take care of Lallybroch. It was who she was. Who she had been since she remembered herself.

And now that Jamie and his wife would arrive, everything would be different.

But Jenny knew that life wasn’t just. And yet, as long as she had Ian, things would be alright, and she would have a home.

Jenny took a deep breath and smiled at her husband. When Ian smiled back, she felt grateful for her luck, her family.

She had no idea if her brother would come back, what would he want, and how this wife of his would be. She knew nothing about her family's future with the laird back home, but she knew that her da had built a house big enough to accommodate them all. They would be fine.

“And who knows?” Jenny wondered, rubbing her swollen belly. “Little Jamie and the new bairn might have cousins to play with soon.”

She looked towards the door, leaning into Ian with a sigh. The night was quiet, the honeysuckle-infused air coming into the parlour through the open window with a promise of better days to come.

Her brother was alive. And he might come back home soon.

Jenny couldn’t wait to see him again.

[otheroutlandertales]

The writers at Other Outlander Tales would like to wish each and every one of you a very happy holiday! In celebration, we have put together a series of moments during a Christmas celebration on the Ridge. 

Christmas On The Ridge - December 25, 1779

William by @futurelounging

William Ransom, ninth earl of Ellesmere, kicked the warped bottom of the outhouse door which stubbornly refused to stay closed, briefly smiling to himself at a memory of his first visit to Fraser’s Ridge many year ago. Heading back down the trail, he pulled the lapels of his coat up against his ears, already stinging from the sharp winter wind swirling through the clearing behind the Frasers’ house. His father’s house. He had been trying it in his head lately, thinking of Fraser as his father, strange as it was to be adding yet another father to his collection.

The house’s lights poured from the windows, reaching halfway down the path to the outhouse and he stopped just before it, keeping himself in shadow. Through the windows he saw the blur of warm life. Mother Claire stood in the corner of the room, her fingers trailing through Mandy’s hair as she clung to Claire’s skirts. Fanny clapping, her head thrown back in laughter. Her life had been cast away by the world, but now, impossibly, it was infused with joy. He felt a pang, a sudden certainty of what it was to be treasured, and a hollow spot in the middle of his chest ached where Jane resided.

His feet began to burn with the cold and he trudged through the drifting snow back to the house. Once inside, he was nearly knocked over with the warmth and chatter of the people. His people. His family. As he kicked the snow from his boots, he considered, not for the first time, what it might have been like if he’d grown up here with them, emulating Fraser as he had long ago.

Claire’s warm hand wrapped around his arm and she tugged, smiling. “Come closer to the fire. I can hear your teeth chattering.”

He followed her and took the small wooden stool she offered him. Mandy still clung to Claire and pulled on her hand, gesturing to indicate she wanted Claire to bend down so she might whisper something to her. He couldn’t hear what Mandy said, but Claire smiled and nodded. Mandy let go of Claire and scurried to the counter, returning a moment later with a small slice of carrot cake wrapped in a cloth. She held it out to William, eyes cast to the floor.

“Mandy…” Claire encouraged.

“Would you like a cake, Uncle William?” Mandy asked, her smile growing with each word.

This family, these ties had felt abstract to him when he first learned of his true parentage. He hadn’t truly envisioned the branches of his family tree spreading to encompass even this young girl. He was not merely a man forging his way in the new world. He was not only a son, but a brother, a nephew, an uncle. And family, here in this place, was not about lineage or wealth, but trust. It was appearing on a doorstep and knowing he’d be offered food and shelter. His name, his title meant nothing here. But Fraser’s name, Fraser’s stature as a man of his word, now extended to William.

William took the cake from Mandy, smiling and bowing his head. “Thank you, dear niece.”

She giggled and smiled up at Claire, glowing with pride. Claire patted her curly head and Mandy took her cue, skipping over to her mother and crawling into her lap while Brianna began to rock her side to side, the soothing instinct forever triggered by a child’s appearance in a mother’s arms.

“I was wondering, William.” Claire’s voice was low compared to the exuberant chatter around them. “Did you have any special traditions for Christmas when you were growing up?”

“Well, I don’t know. What do you mean?” he asked, stalling for time as much as he was curious what she might be hoping to hear.

“Oh, I guess special songs to sing or stories or treats. When Brianna was small, we read a special story together.” Claire’s eyes remained fixed on Brianna and Mandy as she spoke, a wistful smile curling her lips.

William furrowed his brow and hummed, a barely perceptible sound that he would some day discover was exactly the sound Jamie made when contemplating something. “Well, my mother, Isobel, had a very fine voice.”

“Did she?”

“Yes, quite. My father would implore her to sing often and she would refuse him out of shyness, but on the eve before Christmas, she would indulge in perhaps a bit more wine than usual and he did confess to me a few years ago that he took advantage of her less guarded nature at these times to cajole songs from her.” William bit back a well of emotion at the memory of his mother, her loss suddenly looming in this room bursting with love.

“Did you have a favorite song?”

“Hm. Yes. I always quite liked ‘God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen’. I enjoyed the rhythm of it as a child. And when she sang ‘tidings of comfort and joy’, she always looked right at me, as if she was singing only for me.” His voice trailed off, lost in the memory.

“You were her comfort and joy.” Claire rested her hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his own, squeezing gently.

“Perhaps. Tell me, what traditions do you have here?”

Claire looked around the room slowly, taking in the faces of their family, flushed with drink and warmth, then looked down at William. “This. To have you all here in our home. That is all we’ve ever wanted.”

Her eyes were shining when William looked up at her. “I should like that as well.”

Jenny by @ianmuyrray

“Grannie Janet,” came Germain’s voice. He tugged on her elbow, trying to pull it out of the dough she was kneading. “We need your help.”

Jenny was in the kitchen, helping Claire and Marsali prepare Christmas supper. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked over at him. He was tall, not quite grown into all the angles of manhood yet, his face bearing the handsome lines of his father and the rounded softness of his mother. A bit of jam was smeared from the corner of his mouth to his cheek. Jenny barely held back a smile. “What is it, mo chridhe?”

“Joanie was running and caught her skirt on the corner of a bench. She tore it. Can you fix it, s’il vous plait?”

“Why, yes I can. Grab a needle and thread from the basket, will ye?” The young man nodded and scampered away as Jenny exchanged a chuckle with Claire. “I’ll be right back,” she said, leaving a trail of swishing skirts in her wake.

The room everyone had gathered in was large and cozy, orange glow from candles and fire offset but the whiteness of the snow and winter sun outside. The air smelled of balsam and fir thanks to the garlands Brianna and Claire had made for the occasion. An evergreen tree stood in the corner, strung with yarn and stuffed cloth ornaments. Claire had fashioned a bow for the top, and the red ribbon cascaded down the branches.

“Joanie, a leannan, what happened?” Jenny knelt beside the lass on the floorboard by the fire, who was holding the waistline of her dress. Jenny was already reaching to inspect the tear.

“I fell. I was playing with Mandy, and then Jem--.”

“Ye fell?” Jenny repeated, surprised. “Are ye hurt?”

“Yes--!”

“--Joan!” Jem stood over his aunt, his feet planted firmly and blue gaze fierce upon his cousin. “Yer fiiiiiine. Stop whining.” With an experienced eye, Jenny assessed her granddaughter and nodded in agreement with Jem.

“Well if you wouldn’t have thrown my doll I wouldn’t have run. Look at my knee!” Joan’s lip quivered. “She’s not a game.” ‘She,’ Jenny knew, was Joan’s wee bear.

“You were laughing, Joanie, why are ye crying now? Stop it.”

“Hi Grannie,” Jenny felt a small hand on her shoulder, touching her gently. “What are you doing?” It was Félicité.

“I’m going to fix yer sister’s dress, dear heart. She tore it,” Jenny said, firmly settling Joan before pinching the fabric of the tear together. A seam had ripped. “Don’t move.” Germain appeared with the house sewing basket, and Jenny threaded the needle in the light of the fire, aided by a flood of natural light as William came back inside.

Mandy wandered over to the group, never far from her brother and cousins, and placed a hand on Jenny for balance. She pointed at the needle, which Jenny used to create deft, neat stitches. “You sew?”

“Mm hm. Careful now, don’t touch.” Jenny batted the child’s clumsy hand away to judge the patchwork. “There.” She gave Joan a pat on the back. “All set, a leannan, ye may return to yer game.”

The children, their argument forgotten, moved on to other amusements. Jenny caught a glimpse of Ian and Rachel, their own child, too young for play with the big kids, swaddled in Rachel’s arms. She saw Germain had made his way over to sit with Fergus; Marsali cradling her young baby. And Jamie, grinning at Claire and his own grandchildren.

We did well, didn’t we?

A voice, one she knew too well. She wanted to reach for him, to pin him to the earth and keep him here with her. Or follow him. A deep bell rang hollow in her chest, like a distant call, too far off to respond to.

Jenny felt a light touch on her wrist, a touch of love and unhurried patience. “Hm. Yes, I think we did.” She spoke quietly, briefly running a hand over her heart before walking over to her son.

Ian by @whiskynottea

Ian stood next to Rachel, little Oggy - still Oggy - finally asleep in her arms. Insatiable, he was. Much like his Da, Ian thought with a grin.

He’d promised his mam that they would decide on the name after Hogmanay. This was when the Mohawks proceeded to the name confirmation. Maybe the spirits would help him and Rachel decide between her ‘Fox’ and his ‘Wolf’. Or bless them with another name. Or maybe Mother Mary would.

The door opened and cold air rushed inside. William entered the house and Ian felt every joint of his spine straightening. He saw William’s eyes lingering on Rachel just a moment and let out a careful, silent sigh. His wife’s hand squeezed his thigh gently, and he relaxed again.

His wife. His little miracle. Every day that he woke up next to her, he found her more beautiful than the night before. Even when Oggy had stolen every little bit of sleep from her, his lass was shining.

“Ye missed many Christmas celebrations when ye were with the Mohawk, a bhalaich.” It wasn’t a question. His mother’s voice was soft, and Ian realized that lost as he was in his thoughts, he hadn’t felt her looking at him.

“Oh, aye. But we…” he paused. “They have the Midwinter celebrations.”

“Care to share?” Bree winked at him, opening her arms wide for Mandy, who was rushing over to her mother’s embrace.

He nodded with a smile. A silent thanks to his cousin, for lightening the mood. “My favorite was the fifth day, Oheho:ron. It’s the day the song and dance starts - they use the water drum, aye?” That drew Roger Mac’s attention. History, traditions, music - they always spoke to him. Ian hid his smiled and continued. “A spiritual history about the beginning of the world and the people was recited. It was their way of giving thanks. And it felt... right. Proper.” Ian finished with a slight shrug and noticed that the room had fallen silent. His time with the Mohawk was painted black for them - when they’d lost him. But for Ian, it had never taken just one colour. It was the colours of the woods, and the fires, of the soil, and Emily’s eyes.

“Were the women dancing naked?” Germain asked, breaking the uneasy silence.

The whole room at once erupted in laughter.

“I’m sorry to disappoint ye, lad,” Ian said, thankful for the lad’s mischievous mind. The laughter lingered in his voice when he continued. “But… no.”

It was when he’d finished his sentence that his heart shrunk a bit in his chest. The Mohawk women, he thought, and his eyes searched for Rachel’s. He didn’t want her to think his life wasn’t enough as it was. That he kept thinking of his time with Emily. But Rachel was laughing, too. She was looking at him with their son in her lap, and she was laughing. Happy.

Thee is my wolf, she’d said, and meant it. She had accepted every little piece of him. Every bent, broken, stray piece that made him who he was. His brave lass. His family.

Ian’s eyes trailed from her to their son and he ran two callused fingers against Oggy’s smooth cheek. Then, his gaze danced to the people around him, perched on the couch, the armchairs, the stools dispersed in the room. Every little nook was taken. His big, beautiful family.

At that moment, Ian would swear he heard his father’s voice behind his shoulder. Barely a whisper, almost inaudible.

Take care of her for me, aye lad?

He turned his head and found his mother looking him straight in the eye. And then she gave him a genuine, easy smile. As if she had heard his da, too. As if she knew. Ian breathed in and saw her chest heaving in sync with his.

Thank ye, son.

The smooth whisper caressed his ear and flew across the room, straight to her. A moment later, it was lost between the fire’s crackling noise and his family’s laughter.

Fergus by @wunderlichkind

It had gotten dark outside, the black window squares illuminated only by the faint reflection of the house’s fires and candles in the snow, and for the first time in a long time, Fergus felt at peace.

His gaze was trained on Marsali and the bairn, sitting by the fire with Brianna, engaged in animated conversation. He felt himself mirror her smile, a surge of tenderness and gratitude running through him. They had lived through long, hard years. Now, the weight was lifting. Finally, little by little.

“Miracle de Noël,” he murmured under his breath, fingers of his good hand absentmindedly bunching up the fabric of his pants with the force of his emotions.

“What is, Papa?”

Germain plopped down onto the bench beside him, making the sturdy wood creak, and Fergus was struck by how big his eldest son had grown, how many of his features were already morphing from boy to man. Germain’s hands were full of cake and biscuits, though, a small smear of jam in the left crook of his mouth, his eyes sparkling with youthful energy, and Fergus grinned, reaching out a thumb to wipe away the jam, unfazed by his son’s embarrassed squirming.

“I was just thinking how happy your mother looked,” Fergus answered his son’s question, cautiously licking the jam from his finger.

“Mmh, aye.” Germain’s answer sounded so contemplative that it drew Fergus’ gaze from his wife back to his son, who’s expression had changed considerably.

“What is it, mon fils?” he asked softly, reaching out again, this time to squeeze Germain’s shoulder.

“Remember how Henri-Christian would sing Joy To The World at the top of his lungs? How Mam and the lasses would dance and giggle?” Germain’s eyes shone with complex emotion; love and grief and regret, and yes, there was even the hint of nostalgia, marking him an old soul. Fergus took a deep breath, his own feelings battling with his thoughts for a moment. His first son had somehow grown up without him noticing, had dealt with his fair share of tragedy and heartbreak, and grown into the young man sitting beside him, accompanied by the memories resting on his back.

Fergus squeezed Germain’s shoulder again, smiling. 

“Oui, I remember,” he said, running his hand down Germain’s back in an attempt to brush off some of the weight of the past. “It’s a good memory,” he continued. “None of us could get the song out of our heads for days, and the whole house was filled with music.”

“Aye, I remember that too.” Germain smiled, the muscles of his back relaxing a little under his father’s touch.

“What’s important to remember, Germain, is that we carry our family with us, no matter what happens. We’re lucky to be surrounded by so many of them today, but do not believe for one second that those who can not be here with us have left us. He’ll always be with you, j’suis sûr.”

“Singin Joy To The World into my ear,” Germain joked in a feeble attempt to mask his emotion, pressing his eyes closed to hide the mist that had gathered in them. Fergus chuckled, its vibration traveling into Germain through his hand, joining them in a moment of quiet laughter.

“Ah, oui, that sounds like him, doesn’t it?”

Brianna by @theministerskat

Mandy had fallen asleep in Bree’s arms. Dark, tight curls spilled down across her back, and her small head was nestled in the crook of her mother’s shoulder. Brianna felt a surge of emotion wash over her as she stared down at her daughter, studying every minute detail of her face. The chubby, round baby cheeks were quickly giving way to the distinct intricacies that would define her well into adulthood. It was with a sense of remorse that Brianna realized just how fast time was passing in relation to her children.

She remembered Mandy’s first Christmas, a memory that felt like a lifetime ago. Their journey through the stones had only been several weeks before and Brianna had longed to be home then. Home on the Ridge, with her mother and father, and all of the tenants who had become family, engulfed in the warmth of holiday cheer and celebrations.

Instead, she, Roger, and Jem had spent it in a sterile room of Boston’s Children Hospital with Mandy, the doctors and nurses preparing her for the first of several surgeries to correct the abnormality in her heart. Brianna’s heart clenched at the image of Mandy that appeared in her mind, small for her age and lips tinged slightly blue, sleeping in a rigid hospital crib, monitors beeping rhythmically around her.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump, pulling her back into the present.

“Give her to me, a leannan,” her father said reaching his arms out towards his granddaughter, “I’ll go put her down.” Brianna nodded in response, loosening the tight hold she hadn’t realized she had on her daughter, and Jamie gently lifted Mandy into his arms.

She glanced around the room and realized that the crowd in the parlor had begun to thin. Many of the children had been put to bed, and those who weren’t staying in the big house had gone home to their own cabins. Brianna caught the faint sound of Roger casually strumming the strings of his new guitar from across the room from where she sat. She had gifted him with the instrument that morning, having sent word to Marsali and Fergus in Savannah a few months before to have one made for him in time for Christmas.

Brianna felt her heart flutter at the sight of him, cheeks flushed from whisky and the warmth of the room, small wisps of hair had escaped his plait and fell across his brow, and a look of absolute joy on his face as his fingers moved over the strings. She could tell Roger felt her gaze on him and he looked up, searching for her. When his gaze finally landed on his wife, he gave her a sly smile that reached his eyes. Though she couldn’t hear them, she watched as his lips moved and formed the words, for you, and he bent intently over the guitar.

She recognized the song even without the lyrics, a slower rendition of Bing Crosby’s “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” A song for just the two of them, one that held so much more meaning now after all that they had been through. She knew no one else would know it, except perhaps-

“Fitting, isn’t it?” Her mother’s voice was low and soft as she placed a hand on Brianna’s shoulder.

“It isn’t a dream though, is it?” she asked, pulling her eyes away from Roger to look up at her mother. She saw a look of contentment on her Claire’s face then, one she knew was reflected on her own.

“It feels like one. But no, it isn’t a dream. Merry Christmas, darling.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama.”

[notameeksassenach]

My heart just canna take it! ❤️❤️❤️

@bonniebird17 said: Jenny and Ian first kiss 💕

Canon compliant. Fireflies don’t live in Scotland; including them was a creative choice on my part. Outlander is a fictional story about time travelers– suspend your disbelief once more and enjoy a twinkling firefly kiss. 

Eventide

by @muykonos 

Lallybroch, 1737

Jenny sat in the drawing room, a book open on her lap. She stared blankly at it, listening intently to the conversation in the next room. Running a finger over the corner of the book, feeling the softness of the well-worn pages, she tried to decipher the low rumble of male voices carrying through the walls. Her deep concentration was occasionally punctuated by the crack and pop of the fireplace.

Ian’s commission papers had arrived by messenger today. A boy had ridden into the yard, kicking up clouds of late summer dust with his horse as Jenny tended the wash. After settling the boy in the kitchen with a bannock and some ale for a rest, she passed the note to Ian, who she found gathering hay in a paddock for the cows. He wiped sweat away from his brow with a sweep of his forearm and thanked her, opening the message as she left to return to her chores.

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