#take a shot every time i say please in this post (grape juice for under 21)

[dark-night-star-light]

Things in Spirit Animals that piss me off:

Abeke and her father making up. He's abusive to her her entire life and then he suddenly makes up with her because she's a hero now? Wow, well, wonder where that change of heart came from. I do indeed wonder. It drives the idea that you should forgive family for everything because they are family. Where did my found family themes go? What about Rollan and Tarik?

Lord MacDonnell not getting what was coming for him. The guy sucks. He's horrible, I don't care if he's on the good guys' side. In fact, it makes the story more complex that he's on the good guys' side. I quite like that, actually. Lord MacDonnell was a good addition to add to the nuance of the Greencloaks not being the source of supreme good all the time. Proves how low the Greencloaks are willing to stoop to get allies to defeat the Conquerors, shows how desperate they are. Rollan literally seethes with rage at him during their last encounter in Hunted. Then suddenly he's fine with him in later books because he's on the Greencloaks' side? Rollan joining the Greencloaks eventually makes sense. Rollan immediately forgiving all the Greencloaks' allies for everything ever because of joining the Greencloaks does not. Look, I understand that in fiction, people can be bad people, have the audience understand they are bad people, and still not get what they deserve. I get it. (That's actually what happens with the Lord of Trunswick. He actually gets a semi-happy ending. But it's made explicitly clear in every possible way that he absolutely sucks and did not deserve that ending whatsoever.) But that doesn't change the fact that the whole narrative about MacDonnell shifts in the later books in order to make him out to be some sort of hero. And that harpist never gets justice.

I like that Kirat got character development. Look, I really do. But doing it by telling the kid that he's related to a hero was not the way to go. Please. What was that. Again, it drives home very family-defines-who-you-are vibes which I am not a fan of.

The two legendary bond tokens being lost to sea. Please, what the hell was that. And everyone just accepts it? Why. It couldn't have been difficult to write in a single paragraph, nay, a single sentence in the last chapter expositing that the Greencloaks searched the sea and found them eventually. Please, what is this.

Conor's entire personality changing in The Dragon's Eye. That was not character development. That was character assassination. I honestly would've been down for Conor ending up the way he is in The Dragon's Eye, but it needs to happen over the course of several books, not off-page between the last and second-to-last book.

Rollan and Meilin's jealousy and miscommunication arc in Stormspeaker. Despised it. It was vile, and ruined everything I love about them. Thankfully, we go back to normal Reilin in The Dragon's Eye. So at least we didn't finish their relationship on such a horrendous note.

Shane and Devin/Worthy never interacting on page, as far as I am aware. Correct me if I'm wrong. Then, in The Wildcat's Claw, we're given a bunch of lengthy exposition from Worthy talking about how great a leader Shane was and how he taught Worthy to fight and all those other stories. They always felt so empty to me because Shane and Worthy's bond has next to no canon basis whatsoever.

Connecting to the last point, Shane not appearing in Hunted. Perfect opportunity for him to bond with Devin, manipulate him a little, be a disingenuous lying little shit, appear sympathetic toward Abeke while trying to get her back (and failing), then disappear right when times get tough and leave Devin and Karmo stranded in the dungeon. This would give Worthy mixed feelings about Shane, complex-ifying their relationship. Then, before the Redcloaks-are-former-Conquerors reveal, we could see Shane and Worthy fighting side by side. Abeke and Rollan could note their mask designs, which would help identify then as Shane and Worthy later.

The Tergesh not being able to summon spirit animals. Please, what is that nonsense. I hate it. Also, if they can't summon spirit animals because of their existing connection to rhinos, the logic follows that Conor shouldn't be able to summon Briggan because of his existing connection to his sheepdogs. (Although it is interesting to think about an AU where Stetriol gets its hands on this knowledge and tries to use it to their advantage. They start animal shelter programs and such to try to keep people from summoning spirit animals and contracting the bonding sickness.)

How the heck did Meilin's father get his hands on the Bile? How was he convinced to give it to his only daughter? I adore the Meilin-Bile arc, okay, but its origins are kind of a plot hole.

The Wyrm as a villain. You're telling me after all the complexity and nuance we get in the first arc, the second arc's villain is a stereotypical giant blob of fleshy goo that, get this, literally wants to eat the world? Who came up with this? You could argue that the real villain is Zerif, but even then, he's incredibly flat as an antagonist. You could also argue that this is meant to redeem Kovo and Shane, but that also feels weird, as there are almost certainly better ways to do that.

Shane dying right as he was getting redeemed. I'm going to be so honest, I think Shane had to kick the bucket. I love him, but he had to die. But not before he and Abeke could have a proper conversation and get to a better place and have some bonding moments that are full of trust and friendship! Please, what the heck is this?

The other Great Beast summoners getting little to no fleshing out or understanding. By far, the most interesting one is Anuqi. She hates the Greencloaks, and for a valid reason, too. This is literally so interesting. Please, they could've done so much with her during the second arc. Raisha is a close second. Not a fan of the fact that her backstory is literally just "I was a bored rich girl" which apparently voids her of any human compassion, but whatever.

Shane and Zerif's relationship never reaches a good climax. (Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fi-)

What do you mean Abeke didn't kill Zerif? What do you mean? After vowing to, and failing, not once, but twice, Zerif sacrifices himself? Where's the thematic significance in that?

Conor's Wyrm arc. He's next to useless the entire four books, he doesn't do anything of actual value to the quest, and he's treated like a burden the entire time. Honestly, if you hadn't read the first series, you wouldn't even realize he's a main character aside from the fact that he gets a few chapters. He gets very few moments to truly shine in the series. Instead, it should've been Takoda who was infected. It would also strengthen his relationship to Xanthe, because she'd first insist they leave him behind, then she'd grow attached to him and decide to bring him. It gives Xanthe a character conflict between wanting to leave Takoda behind because she's been taught all her life that the Wyrm is the supreme evil and not wanting to leave Takoda because she likes him. It also does the same with Kovo, who has spent his entire existence fighting the Wyrm, only for him to be bonded to someone who's infected. Conor would have more opportunities to act like a real main character. And Takoda has chapters from his perspective, too, so it's not like we couldn't have had some perspective on what it's like to be infected. But Conor is still a primary main character, and he does nothing except hike with the group and cough for the majority of that arc.

Zerif not being at all fleshed out and just being a mustache-twirling, evil-laughing cartoon villain that just wants power.

The bond tokens. Not the concept itself, but the execution. So many of them were just what they could already do, except stronger, and Meilin's didn't even work? Please, what is this.

[jeanie-g]

hello the way I dashed over immediately when I saw your prompts post!! could I please request #14 - “If you do that one more time I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself.” ?

I'll leave the setting up to you! sweet, spicy, silly, emotional, angst, anything goes. I'm always defaulting to jacknico but I also see trevor/jamie on your blog so feel free to choose either!

(& good luck with your fics! 🍀)

as requested!! thank u <3

• Nico can be all talk sometimes. Sometimes, Jack has to be the one to make him take action. Behind closed doors, he's so affectionate—and wicked. He says things that make Jack's knees go weak and his brain go fuzzy. The boy-next-door he is not. Don't let the pretty face and cute accent fool you. But in front of the guys, he keeps it capped. It's like pulling teeth getting Nico to show any kind of PDA, but the thing is: Jack knows he wants to. He knows he runs hot with want just as much as Jack does.

• So, Jack has to be the one to go for it, to force him to shed his captaincy complex for one minute and just touch him back. Jack loves to push Nico's buttons as it is, so it's not too difficult. What is difficult is figuring out what will make Nico bite. Tonight, it starts with an innocent hand on Nico's thigh under the table at their twelve-person booth. At first, Nico doesn't react to it, and Jack seizes the time they have before their food arrives to gradually slide it upwards. Nico, in the middle of a story, chokes when Jack wraps his fingers around his hip and squeezes. He blames it on spit, and Jack has to hide his smile.

• He keeps it up all night, just these little touches searing Nico's skin like a brand. His legs draped over Nico's thighs after they've finished their meals. Falling against his back as Nico lines up a pool shot in the guise of bettering his aim. Rubbing his hand up and down the small of his back as they stand by the bar, chatting with Luke. And every new touch, their close proximity—Jack can tell it's driving Nico insane. But every time, he doesn't reciprocate. Every time, he holds himself back. Jack never understands why. Because when they meet each other's eyes, Nico's looking at him like no one else ever has, and Jack knows how much Nico wants him.

• It's because they're in public, and Nico is always worried about what the guys will think, even though they've been dating for months now. "Keep things professional" he always says—in the locker room, on the ice, in their hotel rooms because God forbid the walls are a bit too thin for his liking. But Jack doesn't want to be professional. Jack wants to be reckless, and he wants Nico to know that he can be reckless, too.

• Because Jack's favorite move of the night, and arguably his most outwardly slutty, comes from a bowl of cherries the waiter dropped off at their table that no one else has been touching. Jack pops one into his mouth, tying the stem with his tongue absently. And then he catches sight of Nico just a few feet away. He slowly grins, popping the cherry between his teeth like a fox to a grape, and Jack swears Nico's pupils dilate. He pockets several, eating the cherries around Nico over the next hour, making sure to tongue the stem, pop the thing, and then lick the juice off his red lips. Jack can only imagine all the nasty images he's conjuring in Nico's mind right now.

• Eventually, when Jack has to piss, he heads to the bathroom, and when he comes out, Nico is there outside the doorway, crowding into his space. He can only smile as Nico boxes him in. His face is so close to Jack's, his sandalwood cologne mixing with the whiskey on his breath in a way that makes Jack's heart stutter. He fumbles in his pocket for a cherry, and before Nico can stop him, pops it in his mouth.

• "Jesus," Nico says. "You're impossible."

• Jack takes his time rolling it around in his mouth before answering. "You know I have a sweet tooth." He positions the cherry between his front teeth.

• Nico leans closer. "If you do that one more time," he says, rumbles into Jack's ear. "I don't think I'll be able to control myself."

• Jack's belly goes warm with the thought, and he has to hide how pleased he is. When Nico pulls back, his eyes are dark, his tone all business, but when Jack looks down, he swears his hands are shaking ever so slightly. It's all the confirmation Jack needs; he's got Nico right where he wants him. He knows this game, and he plays it well.

• His smile widens, snapping the cherry between his teeth with an audible smack. Then, he leans forward, his lips tickling Nico's ear. "And what makes you think I want you to control yourself?"

• And then it's like all the air in the building funnels down to the two of them alone. All Jack can feel is the distant pounding of the bass from the neighboring club; all he can hear is the rapid beating of his heart in his ears. Nico's mouth parts, and his eyes drop to Jack's wet lips, and Jack only has a second to prepare before Nico's mouth is on his, hot and demanding. The atmosphere is thrown back to him as Nico pushes him up against the wall, cupping his jaw and kissing him senseless.

• "All night, fuck, all night you've been torturing me," Nico growls between kisses.

• Jack bites out a laugh. "I'm the one being tortured, baby. I just want you to touch me."

• "Well, isn't that what I'm doing?" Nico says, and his lips leave his to trail down Jack's neck.

• Jack hums contentedly. "Mission accomplished, then."

• "Shut up," Nico whispers against his skin, and Jack laughs.

• Nico can be all talk, but in the end Jack always gets what he wants.

[hold-me-sickfics]

The Independent Jungkookie

Hi guys! This is my first post since being back. I’m sorta rusty, but I hope you guys like it!

TW: emeto/ slight fear of vomiting/ slight fear of being alone when sick

Word Count: 1343

_______________________________

“Breathe Jungkookie. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Jimin rubbed the maknae’s back as he retched into the toilet bowl once again. The lights were turned down low so they wouldn’t hurt the boy’s eyes.

“Hyung- “he gagged, “m’ not a baby.” Jungkook was the youngest of the group, which often led to him being treated like a toddler when he got sick. Though he claimed not to like it, the rest of the members knew he needed it.

“You’re right Kook. Sorry.” Jimin smiled half-apologetically.

Jungkook retched again, then leaned into Jimin’s chest.

“Here’s your Sprite bud.” Yoongi came in holding a glass of Sprite with crushed ice (not cubed. Jungkook hated it cubed.)

“Thanks.” Jungkook reached his trembling hands out to take the glass. Yoongi got down on his knees and gave it to him.

Jungkook took a tiny sip, and then gagged, turning back to the bowl.

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

“Hey Yoongs,” Hoseok spoke in a low tone so he wouldn’t startle the maknae.

“What’s up?” Yoongi stood back up, and joined Hoseok out in the hallway. He closed the door behind them.

“Does he have a fever yet? Jin wants to know. Namjoon has volunteered to go get the liquid fever reducer since Jungkook won’t take pills.”

“I’ll have to check. Do we have the scanning thermometer? Jimin said he gagged every time he saw the one that goes in his mouth.”

“Um…” Hoseok thought for a moment. “Maybe? Hang on, I’ll go look.” Hoseok turned to leave, and Taehyung showed up right behind them.

“Hey, how’s he doing?”

“Hasn’t thrown up yet, but he’s awful nauseous.” Yoongi answered as he checked his phone. It was 3:25 a.m. Jungkook had woken up at 1:57 a.m.

“I washed the blanket he likes. Jin is setting up the living room so we can all sleep in there.” They all knew that Jungkook couldn’t sleep alone when he felt sick.

“Yoongi!” Jimin called from inside.

“Coming!” Yoongi opened the door to Jungkook finally throwing up. The poor maknae was in tears.

“Yoongi I feel bad.” The youngest rasped.

“I know bud. It’s alright.”

Jimin, who was still on Jungkook’s right side, was now holding him around his back, while Jungkook kept both arms around his churning midsection.

Jungkook’s back tensed as he puked up the remnants of dinner, and Yoongi wiped his face with a cool cloth. 

“Hyung, I’m the youngest but I can take care of myself.” Jungkook was still trying to act all tough, but the other members had just learned to let him talk like he was independent, and then treat him like the sick little boy he was.

“I know you can Jungkook.”

Yoongi and Jimin shared a look of sympathy for the little guy, but also a slight smile at how cute the maknae was when he was trying to be tough.

“Do you think you’re done?” Yoongi leaned down a bit to meet Jungkook’s eye level.

He shook his head, then retched.

“Hey I got the thermometer.” Hoseok stood in the doorway, holding the thermometer out to Yoongi. He would have loved to help the maknae too, but he was too much of a sympathy puker. Even with just coming into the bathroom, the smell was close to setting him off.

“Thanks, Hobi. Okay Kookie, I’m just gonna scan you real quick.” Yoongi pressed the button on the thermometer and pointed it at the maknae’s forehead.

The device beeped pretty quickly.

“What’s it say?” Jimin asked.

“100.8. He’s definitely got a virus of some sort.”

Jungkook whimpered pitifully. The poor thing was sweating through his t-shirt, and yet he shivered hard enough that it was difficult for him to sit up on his own.

Yoongi looked up at Hoseok who was turning green in the doorway.

“Might wanna tell Namjoon to go get that medicine. And popsicles.”

Hoseok turned to leave.

“Hyung, I don’t need popsicles to get over a virus.” Jungkook’s eyes watered.

They all stayed silent for a moment.

“What flavor do you want buddy?” Hoseok, like the others, saw through the façade.

“Grape please.” Jungkook whispered.

“You got it.” Hoseok closed the door.

“Think you’re finished now Kookie?” Jimin rubbed the youngest’ arm with his thumb.

“Yeah. For now anyways.” The poor boy was shuddering from exertion and chills.

“Let’s get you in the living room then.” Jungkook nodded, and let the other two boys help him up. Once they got him on his feet, Yoongi flushed the toilet so Jungkook wouldn’t have to see its contents.

Slowly, they helped him to the living room, and set him down on the couch. Taehyung had taken extra care to make sure Jungkook’s Overwatch fleece blanket came out of the dryer right when he entered the room.

“How ya feeling Kookie?” Taehyung asked as he tucked the youngest in the warm blanket.

“My stomach hurts.” His eyes started to water once again.

“Well, luckily for you, I have something for that.” Jin came over with a heating pad which was wrapped in a thin towel. He plugged it in, and flipped the on/off switch. 

Thankfully, the store wasn’t far from their apartment. 

“Namjoon is on his way back with the medicine and popsicles. Think you could drink a little tea for me?”

“I’m just gonna throw it back up.”

“We can hope you don’t. Hoseok?” Jin called.

“On my way.” The pitcher rattled with the crushed ice inside. Hoseok brought a glass of it into the living room and handed it to Jin.

Jungkook’s arms were already tucked into the blanket.

“Hey Hobi, grab me a straw real quick. A blue one if you’ve got it.”

Hoseok brought a blue straw just as he’d been asked to.

“Here you go Kookie. Lean up a little.”

Jungkook had been laying in Jimin’s lap, so Jimin cupped his head in his hand and helped him to lean up. Jin slipped the straw between his lips.

Jungkook took a drink, and then turned away.

“M’ done.”

Just then, Namjoon came in with a shopping bag.

“Alright JK, I got grape popsicles, orange-flavored fever reducer, and a pair of those fluffy socks you like since your feet get really cold when you feel sick.”

“Thanks, Hyungie.” Jungkook smiled a bit, though he was still shivering.

“Okay bud, can you drink this for me?” Jin poured 10mL of the fever reducer into a small measuring cup.

“I don’t want to…” Jungkook took a whiff of the orange liquid and retched.

“I know. Just try to breathe alright?”

Jungkook nodded, wide-eyes fearful.

A couple minutes passed, and Jungkook still couldn’t take the medicine.

“Okay bud. I’m gonna help you.”

Jungkook turned around to see Yoongi with a shot of pickle juice.

“You know how much I hate this stuff right?” Yoongi swirled the liquid around, mentally convincing himself it was just a jello shot.

“Yoongi, you don’t have to.” Jungkook glanced at the pickle juice shot, wishing he could trade.

“I know I don’t have to. Now on the count of 3, it’s bottoms up. Got it bud?”

Jungkook nodded, teeth still chattering from his chills.

“Alright. One, two, three.”

The boys downed the shots, with one’s taste buds revolting against them.

“Yoongi, you okay?” Taehyung asked.

“Yeah, just got choked up for a minute. I’m proud of you Kook.”

Jungkook smiled a bit, and then cuddled back down in his blanket, and further into Jimin’s embrace.

“Wanna watch a movie Kookie?” Jin asked, rising from Jungkook’s side.

“Can we watch Monsters INC?”

“Sure bud.” Yoongi slid in under the maknae’s feet.

“I’ve got the heat turned up. Let me get those socks JK.” Namjoon slipped the fuzzy blue socks onto Jungkook’s feet, and then covered them up again with the blanket.

“Just so you guys know… I could have done it by myself. I’m almost as old as you guys. I’m not a baby.”

“We know Jungkookie, we know.” Jimin started to play with Jungkook’s hair, and he was out cold asleep before the commercials even went off.

 The End

[dopescotlandwarrior]

A Hero Among Us-Chapter 5

On AO3

Chapter Five

Jamie tucked Claire into her bed with a sigh of relief. The Highlanders came with a makeshift litter to carry her home and kept her laughing the whole way with their antics. Jamie worried with every bump and jolt of the litter, hardly paying attention to the two horses he was leading. Now she was home, close to Cho if she started bleeding again and right next to a huge fireplace to keep her warm.

Right outside there were three hundred acres of grapes bursting with readiness and the weight of that responsibility was starting to crush him. He needed to walk the vineyard and try to remember everything he learned so they would be ready. Fear had moved into Jamie’s head and heart after the recent events. Another catastrophe could derail the harvest and ruin Claire’s one chance to earn the money she desperately needed. Why was he plagued with uncertainty in himself? He had dreams of reading the Brix upside down (which was impossible) and the fruit died on the vine. Another dream the clusters leaked all the juice before he could sell them. Every night his mind screamed he lacked the knowledge to bring the harvest in safely, and his confidence was shot.

“What is it, Jamie?”

He felt Claire’s cool hand on his and looked into her gorgeous eyes. He scooted close to her and held her cheek, turning her head so he could look closely.

“I saw a book of paintings once, of all the big cats of the world, like lions and cheetahs, but there were so many I didna ken. Most had eyes that were a light shade of brown, and a dark rim that made the color jump out of the painting. They were so beautiful and so much like yer’s Sassenach. It is the first thing I see when we meet and the thing I remember when we part.”

When he spoke to her like this she felt like the only woman in the world and her heart was grateful for the love he had for her. When he kissed her softly she pulled him to her until he could no longer control his hammering heart and exploding balls. He broke the kiss and sat up taking a deep breath.

“May I ask you something, please. You told me things last night, after the landslide, that were maybe spoken in haste, and I would understand how such a thing could happen. But in the light of day, do you feel the same?”

“No, mo ghaol, too much has happened. Last night, when I couldna stop yer bleedin, I ran to get Cho and we galloped back to the cave not knowin if you had slipped away already. I have never been so scared in my life and knew I would die with ye so we never had to part. You are my life, Sassenach, it will be you who inspires all that I do in the future, and your love that I will miss every minute I’m away from ye. Do ye feel it, lass? Our bond, can ye feel me inside ye?”

Claire’s cheeks were streaked with tears that he wiped away and then kissed her softly. He had his own questions but could not stop kissing long enough to ask her. She pulled him to her and moaned when their tongues touched.

“I canna keep my hands to myself so I must leave ye. He ran his hand down her side to her knee, exposing five inches of her bare leg. He stared at it for a long minute before placing his palm over her skin halfway between her knee and core. Claire watched his eyes darken and his chest heave as he continued to stare.

“How soon can we marry Sassenach,” he whispered. “I canna hold back from ye love, please say it will be soon and end my torment.”

His hand drifted up her side pressing on her hipbone. He kissed her with all the intensity he felt and slid his hand under her butt, kneading it and making her moan.

“Touch me like you did last night, please.”

With their tongues dancing he wrapped his fingers around her core and felt her heat.

“Oh God Sassenach, I want ye lass and I love ye.”

Jamie jumped to his feet and put a hand on his chest. I will find Misses Crook and send her in. I will come back with Cho a bit later and hold yer hand through the treatment.

“What treatment?”

“Nothin to concern yerself with lass, get some rest.”

Misses Crook stood in the kitchen and looked at the floor. She hid her shaking hands in her apron pockets and jumped when Jamie addressed her.

He looked at her dark circles and messy hair and wondered when she last slept, then he remembered what she had done and his face became granite.

“Yer mistress would like a word with ye. He stood in front of her, invading her space, “remember yer place in this household, Misses Crook. She has a generous heart and will help ye home until ye get between us again, then I will walk ye to the nearest post and leave ye there with nothin.”

He walked out of the house, relieved his ardor had passed, for now.

Misses Crook knocked and entered Claire’s room, looking at the floor she stood at the foot of the bed and waited.

“Why did you do it? Why did you conspire with those men to force me into marriage and sign away my land?”

“I didna mistress. I wanted you to pick the man ye fancied and get married to a gentleman who could take all the danger and fear from yer life. I swear I would never seek to harm ye. Ye so young and I thought ye needed my guidance puttin yer affairs in order. I am so very sorry.”

Something about the way she said the words resonated truth to Claire and she felt a forgiving kinship with this woman who had cared for her the last year.

“I will pay your passage back to England Misses Crook. I will not leave you to fend for yourself out here in this uncivilized country.”

Misses Crook fell to her knees arms extended across the bed and begged Claire not to send her away.

“I dinna want to leave ye Misses Randall, please dinna make me go.”

“Please come here Misses Crook, I cannot get up and come to you. Please sit with me for a while.”

Claire exposed her leg and the deep, black bruise that covered half her lower leg. “This happened last night when Jamie rescued me from the house before those men could come and kidnap me. The terrace gave way and almost hurled me to my death but thankfully Jaime grabbed my hand and pulled me to safety. During all that, something punctured my leg and I almost died from loss of blood. That’s three times last night I faced my death because of you. I want you to understand exactly what you did.”

Misses Crook cried and held her leg. “I will go mistress but please forgive me, I only wanted to help ye.”

“I want to talk about Frank for a minute and I ask for your honesty.” Claire cleared her throat, “Frank was not a normal husband, was he?”

“No, mistress.”

“I am to be married to Mister Fraser and I want to know if it will be as awful as it was with Frank. Jamie makes me feel different, better than Frank ever did and I want to know why.”

“No Misses Randall, Frank did not fancy women, or hold them in high regard for anything. He sought ye out as a candidate for marriage because his parents were controlling and he wanted to make his own fortune. Yer dowry provided the money he needed to start this vineyard and when he left with his new bride for America he had no money of his own.”

“You knew this and never told me! I’m sorry Misses Crook but you do not resemble a friend or even a loyal servant. I see you as my enemy now.”

Claire wanted to walk away from her but could not risk her wound bleeding again. She looked away from the older woman willing her to leave.

“I ken mistress, and I will go but let me tell ye what I know first, please.” With her barely controlled sobs, she waited for Claire to indicate she should continue.

“ I had never seen the man make any effort toward a job or his education, he spent all his time and money drinkin and gamblin…and…bein with other men. But he applied himself to learning this business, ye ken, and writing to people who could help him here. He kept a journal of what he had learned and I think it would help ye. I only ken this because it was left open on his desk all the time. I couldn’t help reading a few lines here and there. There was one entry with bold stars, it said phylloxera- 2-5 years to decimate the region, 4 to recover with new stock. A decade to stake expansion. Eureka! It was soon after that entry that he proposed to ye.”

“Why was Frank different from other men and what can I expect with Jamie?”

Misses Crook looked at Claire’s deer-in-the-headlights expression and realized she did not understand that Frank pursued his sexual interest with men. She wondered if the girl had any idea what normal sex was like between a man and a woman. She realized previous trauma from Frank was making her fear another marital bed.

“When ye are married and he takes ye in his arms he will show ye how a man loves a woman. If you love him, it will be yer greatest experience for the rest of yer life. Even if there is no love, and he is gentle and caring, ye will not dread it. Put your faith in Mister Fraser’s hands on yer weddin night and don’t be afraid of whatever happened with Frank.”

Claire bit her fingernail and stared out the window while her mind tried to grasp what the woman was saying.

“Open yer heart to it, Claire. The marital bed is beautiful, spiritual, and life-changin with someone who loves ye. Yer both so young, yer bodies are primed for this and crave this intimacy. He will reach for ye at night, or in the daytime if his need is strong. And ye will reach out to him with yer own need. Pardon my boldness on the subject but ye didna have a mother to tell ye these things.”

“I appreciate your honesty Misses Crook. Can you help me find someone who can marry us please?”

Misses Crook saw Claire’s face was flushed and her eyes lost focus. Misses Crook realized a Justice of the Peace was needed pronto.

“Have ye told Jamie ye grew up without ye parents? You need to let him know yer losses. He will expect ye to know love because ye were married for a year. Find a way to tell him yer a virgin so he is gentle wi ye. I am going to town for a Justice of the Peace to marry ye. Is that what ye want?”

“Yes Misses Crook, I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Misses Crook walked quickly to town and hoped she could find someone before nature took over. Her opinion of James Fraser was improving as he had not ravished her in all the time they were alone together.

Claire laid down and felt a dreamy excitement after their conversation. So many questions were answered for her and she looked forward to something wonderful in her marriage that she had not expected. She drifted to sleep missing Jaime.

“So Jamie my boy, when does yer ship sail?” Angus and Rupert leaned against the cabin where he was cleaning tack.

“I’ve decided to stay on here and help the lady with the farm.”

Angus motioned with his fingers toward Rupert who begrudgingly pulled a coin from his pocket and dropped it into his hand. Jamie kept his nose to his task and took no notice. Cho joined the group and asked if Jamie was ready for Claire’s treatment. They broke away and headed for the house.

Jamie touched the cheek of his love and kissed her as her arms encircled his neck and pulled him back to her for another. He could feel her interest and it was different, in fact, it nearly caused him to forget why they were there.

“My love, we are here to give ye another treatment. Ye need …” he did a double look at her face and the obvious arousal…” another... to keep...ye strong. Sassenach did somethin happen while I was gone? Yer makin it hard for me to remember my own name at the moment.”

Claire ran her hands down his back and grabbed his buttocks causing Jamie’s eyes to open like saucers. He grabbed her hands and held them above her head as she gazed into his eyes.

“Open yer legs Sassenach.”

Jaime laid on top of her and dropped his bulging heat onto her core while he kissed her deeply. He felt her press against him and heard her moan. He allowed himself the slightest movement before jumping off the bed. “I’ll let Cho in to do the treatment now.”

Claire watched Cho open his pouch and remove the needles. Her eyes got very wide and she started pushing away from him shaking her head no. Jamie pulled her back and asked her to look at him and when she finally did she was lost in the blue beauty she saw there. He spoke softly about all they had to look forward to and as the needles were inserted she yawned deeply and passed out.

“What the hell?” He looked at Cho with concern darts firing out of his eyes.

“I made her sleep to help with the treatment. The needles are inserted in three places that open a door to life, or death. Her movement might tip the balance and kill her.”

“Jesus Christ Cho, can she avoid more treatments? I had no idea! What if she wakes up?”

He pointed to the one needle he inserted between her thumb and finger, “not until I am ready for her to wake.”

Jamie lowered Claire to the bed and left to pace the floor in the hall. He raked a hand through his hair and finally decided how he would kill Cho if this went wrong. He felt a little calmer but seeing the twelve needles sticking out of her neck he went back to his pacing.

Cho bowed to Jamie and left a short time later. He looked around the door and saw she was awake and smiling. His hands were still shaking from Cho’s honesty and he struggled to gain some control.

“Thank you for not making me do that treatment. No one will ever stick needles in my neck, I’ll promise you that.”

He gave her a lopsided smile and mumbled that he had to go, and then left with Claire looking after him feeling confused.

“Mister Fraser! Wait!”

Jamie stopped to wait for Misses Crook waving her arms and running the best she could in a corset. She was trying to catch her breath when she got to him and held up her hand to indicate she needed a minute. In her other hand, she held a bar of soap.

“I purchased this soap for ye for three cents, but it’s worth the price if ye smell it. Get to the lake and bathe, take yer best clothes and wash them,” she panted out. “Yer gettin married tonight laddie, so go!”

Jamie’s mouth dropped open and she made it clear that he should be at the lake already. Running out of his cabin with his best clothes he took off for the lake.

Misses Crook looked at Angus and Rupert and chose Rupert as the cleanest of the two. “You are required at the house tonight, seven o’clock, with yer hair combed and face shiny. Best clothes ye own please.”

“Whatever for ye daft woman?”

“You will stand with Mister Fraser, as a witness to his marriage to the lady.”

She spun on her heel and walked briskly to the house. There was much to do and little time.

Misses Crook knocked and entered Claire’s room upstairs walking directly to the wardrobe. She pushed the dresses aside as she inspected each one. With a frown, she asked Claire where she put her dresses brought from London. Claire pointed at the wardrobe in the adjoining room and watched Misses Crook march toward it for the same inspection. Each dress was handcrafted by the best dressmakers in London and she gazed at each one looking dreamy.

Claire watched with mild amusement until the older woman gasped and pulled out a beautiful white dress, made especially for the May first celebration of spring. A beautiful ball held annually that Claire had the misfortune to miss due to a fever and sore throat. She ran her hand over the ornate pearled bodice and satin sashes that swept across her hips and tied over the bustle in the back. Pearls and soft shiny layers of silk chiffon and satin created a beautiful gown. When ladies had such a dress created, it came with matching corset and all under skirts. Misses Crook’s face was red with her efforts and she smiled at Claire and exhaled triumphantly.

“What on earth are you doing Misses Crook?”

“We must find ye a weddin dress and get ye washed. I will get yer bath ready.”

“Misses Crook! What are you saying?” Claire’s smile revealed she had a good idea already.

There was a small room off the kitchen for bathing to lessen the distance water had to be carried from the stove. Claire submerged her body, except for her injured leg which hung over the side, and sighed with the pleasure of it. Misses Crook gave her a scented bar of soap and helped wash her hair, adding more hot water as needed.

Claire was draped in her robe and sent upstairs while her hair was drying. Claire stood at the door to Frank’s office and bit her nail. He was dead, what did it matter, besides he owed her that much for spending her entire dowry. She looked through the drawers and found three leather journals in Frank’s neat handwriting. She skimmed the pages of the first and second but found the third volume to be loaded with arrows, stars, and bullet lists. She read from the beginning and could not put the book down until she came to the last entry.

“There, do ye like it lass? I can find something to make ye a vale if ye like.”

“No vale, and yes, I love my hair like this. Thank you for your help Misses Crook. Thank you also for telling me about the journals. You were right, Frank stumbled onto a secret he thought would make him so wealthy his parents would be jealous. It sounds like a pipe-dream to me but I will have Jamie read them also. On the page with that word…phylox, or something like that, with all the stars. Did you see he wrote native rootstock at the top margin? I wonder what he meant by that and why it was so important to the phylox.”

For the next two hours, Claire lined her eyes with a darkening power and softened stick, blotted red stain on her lips and cheeks and looked approvingly at the results. She was a natural pacer and had to stop herself each time she rose to start walking. She looked out the window and noticed the men were eating already but did not see Jamie anywhere. She prayed he would stand with her tonight and become her husband. The trust she had lost in the past week shook her very foundation and it spilled over to Jamie. “Please come,” she whispered.

Jamie and Rupert knocked on the front door at precisely seven o’clock that evening. Both were washed and combed eliciting catcalls and nasty jokes from the Highlander men who were starting to see the bigger picture. Misses Crook answered the door in a very fancy dress and both men noticed there was no apron anywhere. She smiled approvingly and opened the door for them pointing at the parlor but holding Rupert back.

“The mistress needs a favor from ye since we are short on people here. Would ye walk her down the stairs and hand her to Mister Fraser?”

Rubert’s smile and charm could talk a snake out his rattle she thought as Rupert climbed the stairs and filled his eyes with the trimmings of the rich. He stared at Claire smiling for almost a minute making her blush and look away from him. He held his arm out for her and she took it.

“Mistress, yer a beautiful bride. Ready?”

Jamie felt so conspicuous standing in the middle of the room with the minister Misses Crook had found. The older woman walked in and stood near Jamie watching the archway for the bride.

Back at the camp, Angus spilled the beans and told the men Jamie was getting married at this very moment. They all mumbled their approval for the man they followed, to the ends of the earth, if he asked.

“What’s he done for a ring then?”

“Ye canna wed wi’out a ring.”

This went on for five minutes while one Highlander sat against his cabin and looked at the gold ring he held. With tears streaming down his face for his lost wife, he walked to Angus and handed it over. Then he walked to his cabin to cry some more and think of his lost love.

Jamie looked up at Rupert holding the arm of a beautiful lady dressed in white. His eyes went from the top of her head to her feet much of which he had rarely seen. He would get stuck in her eyes and occasionally move his gaze to her chest, everything below that had not received his scrutiny. Her downcast eyes and tight bodice allowed him to travel the length of her without getting stuck. He took a deep breath and decided even without her two best assets she was a striking woman.

Rupert handed the bride to Jamie and moved back next to Misses Crook. Claire looked up into Jamie’s eyes and he was locked into her beauty, her youth, and her love for him. The ceremony started just as Angus reached the house. He looked in window after window until he saw the wedding party and found a space where he might gain Rupert’s attention by waving his arms and jumping up and down.

Rupert blushed crimson and warned Angus off with a homicidal gaze. Angus showed the ring and motioned for Rupert to meet him at the back door. He shook his head no for five minutes forcing Angus to tap the window and then duck down. Rupert, in his most miserable moment, walked quietly backward and then swiftly to the back door to receive the ring. He was gone less than a minute, hardly noticed.

When the minister asked to bless the ring Jamie’s face went white because he had not considered this. Rupert bumped his arm and handed him the ring. Jamie stared at it feeling overwhelming gratitude and placed it on the bible.

When the ring was placed on his wife’s finger he bent to give the kiss that had lived in his daydreams his whole life it seemed. It was the most important kiss of his life and he felt every second of it hoping Claire would feel the same. When he broke the kiss, there were tears streaming down her cheeks and she looked at him like he was the king of men.

Misses Crook dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and invited all into the kitchen for a glass of juice. The mood was joyous and she could see the love between the two of them. She felt profoundly happy for her little charge.

Jamie drained his cup and went to the other side of the grand room for a refill. Misses Crook assisted him and whispered a statement that shot the juice out of his mouth onto the counter. His hand went to his mouth as Misses Crook wiped up the juice and then rejoined the others. Jaime looked across the room at his love. Could this be true, he wondered? For the next half-hour, he could look at nothing but her. When the minister left Jamie shook Rupert’s hand and thanked him.

The two women talked in the kitchen when Jamie came around the corner.

“Excuse me Misses Crook.” He scooped his wife up in his arms and carried her up the stairs to start their new life together. Claire giggled all the way up and then kissed his face everywhere she could reach. He set her down and suggested she sit with her leg up.

“How does yer leg feel mo chridhe?”

“It’s fine,” she said blushing.

“After standing so long I feel ye should check it.”

He untied her shoes and slipped them off before pulling her legs up onto the bed. She followed every move with her eyes. He peeked under her dress making her laugh before pushing the fabric up to expose her lower leg which was bound in a stocking. He reached up watching her eyes for push back and pulled the ribbon that held her stocking pulling it down off her leg. He studied her leg and shook his head with relief. It was healing so fast and no seeping or bleeding.

“Well lass, I’m happy to inform ye it looks very fine.” Jamie was feeling awkward and panicked at how to touch this woman who was now his wife. His eyes darted around the room as if he would find the answer there.

“What about the other one?”

Jamie looked at her with confusion and then jolted with the understanding of her question. He smiled and let his hands glide up her leg to the ribbon and pulled it slowly bringing the stocking down and off. He slid up next to her and kissed her softly wanting to touch her but could not find a place to put his hand with all the layers and adornments on her dress. The bodice had small buttons that went from her waist to her chin, locking her skin away from him.

“What might happen if I were to unbutton these three up here? Ah, I see ye still have a neck, that is very good.” He kissed it and tasted her skin making her giggle. “And three more, ah, a lovely chest underneath.” He kissed her soft skin and neck. “Three more perhaps, they are such small buttons mo chridhe.” He leaned in and placed a kiss on every new inch exposed as he pushed the fabric aside to expose her nipple. Claire was breathing heavy watching him kiss and lick her nipple. “And three more? As long as I’m so close, just two more buttons.” He kissed down her stomach tasting her as he went. The smell of her skin was making his head spin as he placed wet kisses all over her stomach.

“Come and sit up with me Sassenach. I want to make ye more comfortable.”

Jamie could see her straining against her tight corset with pins to hold the curls sticking into her head. He stood beside her and pulled them out one at a time, running his hands through her hair and marveling at how soft it was. As they came out, her hair tumbled down her back and shoulders. He pulled her wrist to him and slowly opened the five buttons on each arm pulling the bodice off her body. He waited for her to feel confident to go on and continued playing in her hair and kissing her shoulders.

Jamie lifted her chin and kissed her deeply while one hand pulled her laces. As she expanded her chest for a deeper breath she moaned and pulled him to her falling backward onto the bed. They kissed and time stood still for them, neither was in a hurry. With the corset hanging half off her body, Jamie rolled her hips over so he could pull the last few laces.

“No!” Claire screamed and rolled off the bed grabbing her quilt to her naked upper body. She hid behind it looking around the room for an escape.

Jamie knelt at her feet and put his arms around her body and the quilt. “My sweet Sassenach, I only meant to pull yer last laces and get the corset off yer body. I’m so sorry I scared ye love.” He pulled her chin so she would look at him. “Makin love happens face to face with our arms locked around each other and I will not take my eyes off of yers the whole time. They say the eyes are the window to the soul mo chridhe, and I will watch as yer soul takes flight when we touch.” He could feel her start to relax.

“I’m sorry, she whispered, you scared me.”

“Do ye know what happens when a man loves a woman Sassenach? I think we should leave that for our first weddin anniversary, no need to hurry, okay? It is required to make the marriage legal, but I promise I’ll no be askin to undo it. Just let me hold and kiss ye tonight.”

He pulled her back to the bed and gently pulled the quilt away leaving him weak at the sight of her naked upper body. He laid with her next to him, head on his chest. His large warm hand caressed the skin of her back up and down as she released the buttons in his jacket. He sat up and pulled the jacket and shirt off in one swift move. When she laid against him again he saw her nipples harden and felt his groin rally with glee. He pulled her mouth to his and kissed her passionately, hoping her body would do what her mind could not. The kisses were hot, breath panting, hands roaming, nipples were sucked, softly at first then harder bringing moans from deep inside her.

“Skirts…please,” she panted rolling onto her stomach so he could untie the skirt, underskirts, two other skirts he didn’t expect pulling it all off of her in one clump of fancy fabric and lace. She was naked and he almost lost his mind. She held her arms out to him and he pulled her close, so happy with her bold move, feeling better about her willingness. His kisses were all over her face, neck, and chest pushing her arousal and showing her what pleasures were to be had. She reached for his breeks and released two buttons with shaking hands.

“Off.”

Jamie was struggling not to dance a jig right there on the bed. He feared she would get scared again if she looked at him naked so he locked her into a breath-stealing kiss while her hands stroked his back and slowly worked down to his buttocks. She moaned as her hand moved up and down the powerful muscle.

He placed lovely kisses down her stomach, licked around her belly button and continued down placing at least twenty kisses on her core, and inner thighs. She was losing herself in the experience and her hips chased his mouth until he slipped his tongue into her fold and felt her stiffen and gasp. He continued softly touching parts of her with his tongue hoping she would let it go and feel the power. She moved her hips against him and moaned his name breathing harder and harder until she arched her back and cried out. He held her close and felt her body fly through its first orgasm. He was so happy with her trust. He considered pushing the issue of his need but decided he would rather jerk it out the window than scare her again.

She blinked up at him with the face of an angel he thought.

“Thank ye for trusting me love, it means so much, and I must say I love yer little body. Yer arms are so long and yer legs,” he stroked her legs to the ankle and back, “so thin and shapely.” He cupped her breast and kneaded, running his thumb across her nipple, “and these will keep my head spinning all day tomorrow.” He leaned down and flicked her nipple with his tongue making her squirm. His kisses were still hot, pulling her arousal back as she clutched at him and held him to her. He placed her hand on his cock and she gasped, remembering another time and a lesser man.

“There is a special place on yer body where I join with ye in love. I had my tongue there and ye liked it, did ye nae?” Jamie’s hand caressed her between her legs brushing up against her core and she filled her lungs with air and arched her back. He gently slipped his finger inside of her and closed his eyes at the velvety softness. “This is where I enter yer body love,” he whispered, “but not until yer ready for me, I promise. May I taste you again mo chridhe?” Jaime kept his finger inside of her and pulled her clitoris into his mouth making her moan and whimper. He moved his fingers in and out of her while his tongue pulled her arousal to a fevered pitch. She was pulling madly at his shoulders.

“Jamie come here, I have to feel the rest of it, please, now.”

“My beautiful wife, ye make me so happy.” He nudged her legs open and moved up until he was right at her entrance. Rubbing his heat up and down her bud she was soon begging him so he pushed into her an inch and gasped at the exquisite feel of her wrapping around him. Aanother inch he prayed he could hold off his explosion. To his delight, she pressed his butt to slide deeper into her and she suddenly cried out as something tore inside her.

Jamie held very still and told her how beautiful and brave she was. He was fearful of losing control and would rather stop and finish himself than hurt her. “That was the worst part, mo ghaol. It will never hurt like that again, I swear.” He placed fevered kisses down her neck and lips and felt her push him into her again. He was gasping for air and when her eyes opened she smiled.

“You want me, don’t you Jamie.” Her voice was soft and sexy and he could only gasp yes as she whispered in her ear. “Show me how much you want me.” He pushed into her and stopped, his body shaking with a need to finish. “Again,” she whispered. He pulled out and back in with a growl into her ear. “Again, faster Jamie.” He pushed into her over and over clutching her tightly until he pushed deep into her and stopped as the explosion sent him to heaven and let him drift back. He dropped his head to her shoulder gasping for breath.

“Did I hurt ye love?”

“Yes, it hurt, but not that bad, and I didn’t want you to stop.”

“Oh, my God, how did I get so lucky to win the heart of such a woman?” He dropped to her side and held her close.

“My fate is clear Sassenach, I am doomed to spend the rest of my life making my dearest love happy. He pulled the quilt up over them and felt himself spinning into the oblivion of sleep.

What seemed like minutes later Jamie’s eyes opened to the dim light that comes with dawn. He looked at his wife sleeping for a full minute before slipping out of their bed. Closing the door lightly he made his way to the barn to feed the horses, grabbing the hydrometer on his way out. He stood in front of the vines watching the foggy mist rise up from the ground. He loved this time of day when it seemed so magical. He pulled a grape and read the Brix so happy for a few more days and a few more hours of sleep.

“Ah dhia!”

He pulled another three grapes and ran deeper into the vines and pulled three more. It was time. He ran as fast as he could to the bell and started ringing it for all he was worth. Cabin doors flew open as dazed, sleepy men started pouring out around him.

“Get yer tools gentlemen, it’s time to pull the white grapes and hurry!”

Each man had been given a hooked knife to cut through the fibrous stem of the cluster and a large canvas bag that hung from the shoulder. The men were calling bets against one another as Jamie ran into the vines and started hacking the clusters off and dropping them into his bag. He remembered his dream of leaking all the juice out of the grapes before he could sell them. He called out to the men to empty their bags into the holding containers at half full. The men worked their way down the rows of white grapes slicing through cluster stems and running to the next vine. The Chinese workers were just as fast, if not faster. Jamie saw them running by him to empty their sacks and he looked down at his in shock. On their way back, one stopped and flipped the knife in Jamie’s hand, then made a slashing motion with his arm before running back to his row.

“Oh for Christ sake, that is so much easier. He emptied his sack and ran by each of the men correcting those holding the knife incorrectly. Someone called out “we’re full boss.” Jamie ran quickly to the equipment barn and brought two more containers out. He looked at the grapes pile up and marveled at the size of them. Misses Crook came running out and shrieked with joy watching the men spread throughout the vines on the valley floor, running up to dump their bags and running back.

Claire felt her empty bed and heard the men outside. Excited voices, laughter and grunting with effort it sounded like. She smiled and then shot out of bed running to the window. She looked down at seventy men throughout the flat acreage pulling fruit and running to empty into the container. She screamed and jumped up and down before grasping for something to wear. She ran in every direction in her room and finally yanked her riding outfit on because there was no corset she would need help with. She slammed on her breaks at the door and looked down. Five minutes later her breasts were bound and she slid down the banister and ran out the door.

Misses Crook grabbed her hand and marched her back into the house so she could pin her hair up. Claire flew back outside where she could watch and gasp at the tonnage of grapes coming off the vines. A man pulled into the yard with a long flat cart pulled by four horses.

Jamie approached, “can I help ye, sir?”

The man looked like Jamie had just woken him from sleep. He looked down with droopy eyes, I’ll buy what ya got.

“How much?”

“I’ll give ye twenty dollars per ton.”

“No thank ye, good day sir.”

Jamie walked away from the dopey man hoping there would be enough others for him to get a sense of the actual price for the fruit. The men were halfway through the white grapes, picking and eating bowls of porridge at the same time. Jamie knew the light reds were not far behind the whites and by the Brix he would bet on tomorrow. He ran back to the vineyard and saw his darling Sassenach. Sneaking up behind her he put his hand over her mouth and pulled her behind the shrubbery kissing her breathless. He smiled down at her and saw her excitement.

“I know most of that excitement is for the harvest, but I hope some part is for me as well, love.”

“It is almost all for you my darling Jamie and a bit for the harvest.” She smiled before standing on tiptoes, asking for another.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “No Names” Part 2

When The Joker told you he found somebody else, your world shattered to pieces. But what hurt the most was the fact that he didn’t even bother to come around and see his little girls; very hard to find excuses on why their father is missing, especially when the triplets adore him. And extremely hard to cope with the gloomy future after you found out some details that might explain his estrangement.

Part 1: http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/164355559106/the-joker-x-reader-no-names-part-1

Part 3: http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/165414584036/the-joker-x-reader-no-names-part-3

The door opens and you turn around, sniffling. “There you are,” J closes and locks the door behind him. “What’s wrong?” he asks when he realizes you’re sobbing.

You rush in his arms and hug him.

“Don’t cry, alright? Save it for when I’m gone,” he caresses your hair and turns off the light in the office. You dig your fingers in his skin, having another crappy day yourself.

“You–you’re going to live forever…” you muster the strength to say it.

“True,” J sighs. “I mean, if I was Death I wouldn’t fuck around with Godzilla.Things could get messy really fast, right?”

You punch his abs and smile through tears.

“Stop calling me Godzilla!” “Never!” he grins in the darkness, pleased he can tease you with that…again.

“Where are the girls?” you ask, wanting to step away.

“They’re asleep, let them be. What are you wearing?” The Joker whispers in your ear, his hands feeling you up and down.

“Sweatpants and a tank top,” you snort, wiping your tears.

“Mmmm, my favorites…so sexy!” he chuckles and tries to lift you up but you refuse.

“Don’t do that, your back will kill you afterwards.”

“Nah, it’s been a pretty good day; even took a muscle relaxant, just in case.” J pulls you in a tight embrace. “I think you’re in luck today, Princess.”

“Hm?” you trace his cheekbones, hoping he means what you think he means.

“That’s why I was looking for you,” he snickers and you wrap your arms around his neck, excited.

“Are you sure, baby? It’s been a while.”

“Well,” J grumbles, “with my current health condition, I’m out of commission quite a lot. Not by choice, of course. Most of the time I feel very sick and…”

“I know,” you interrupt,” I swear I don’t care. I want you to get better and then…”

“That won’t happen so we have to deal with it, OK?” he cuts you off. “It’s so embarrassing not to be able to have you anytime I want though,” he gulps, admitting to the inconvenient truth.

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, Pumpkin, but my pride…” “Your pride is fine,” you kiss him and he purrs, fired up. The Joker actually attempts to lift you up again but instead you push him towards the huge sofa in the room, slowly taking his shirt off. You give him a soft nudge and he lands on the pillows with you on top of him. Your long hair falls around his head, just like a curtain.

“Seriously, Y/N, I could’ve picked you up; you know I like to do that,” he gropes your butt as you get up a bit in order to take your tank top off.

“No way, I don’t want you to jinx it and hurt your back. I know what you like so enjoy,” you moan when his lips find yours.

“Auch!” The Joker complains when you bite his soft skin. “That’s gonna leave a mark on my neck you naughty girl!” he laughs, panting. “Do it again!”

“Your wish is my command,” you eagerly help him get rid of your sweatpants.

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

Bad morning for your boyfriend. After you injected his weekly medication and he swallowed the tables too, the side effects settled in.

“Your nurses are here,” you announce, hoping your little surprise will give him a boost of energy.

The triples enter the master bedroom holding hands and J emerges from under the covers and smiles when he sees how cute they are: you braided their hair with neon green hair extensions and they all wear sparkly jeans plus pink t-shirts embroidered with “Daddy’s Number One.” J gets on his elbow to gaze at the high heels they struggle to walk in: the little ones borrowed some of your sandals.

“Awww, so cool to have adorable Pumpkins tending to me,” he struggles to appear cheerful in front of the girls.

“Are you sick daddy?” Mia inquires because you always tell the kids to keep it down when they play since their father is not well.  

“Nope, I’m good,” he gestures for them to get up in bed and you aid the four year old nurses reach their patient.

“Your caregivers will give you a massage,” the explanation follows and J turns face down, the little hands starting to rub his back soon after.  You crawl by his side, watching them giggle and being happy about playing with their dad. You’re overwhelmed with the view, that’s why you lean over to kiss his shoulder. Your daughters are fast to imitate you, then they return to their task.

Emma stops for a few moments and brings her face close to J’s, whispering:

“Who’s your favorite daddy?”

He laughs and points towards her:

“You are.”

Evie and Mia are on the verge of crying, that’s why he adds:

“And you, and you. I can’t choose: all three look the same.”

Oh, the nurses are thrilled to hear they are daddy’s favorites; there is some pushing around – fighting starts about who should get more to massage.

“Hey, hey!” you separate the feisty girls. “Enough, play nice!” you admonish, aware J hates it when they get noisy.

“You don’t play nice, Doll,” The Joker touches the fresh hickeys and bites he got last night. “Why should they, huh?… At least you don’t seem any better.”

Correct, you don’t. Ahhh, he’s so satisfied with that accomplishment.

You ignore the remark and roll out of bed.

“I’m going upstairs to update your meds, alright? I’ll leave you in the capable hands of your caregivers.”

“That sounds good,” he stretches, enjoying being pampered.

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

After about 45 minutes, you are almost done selecting the old pills, injectables and lidocaine patches and replacing them with new remedies. As soon as there is something better available on the black market, The Joker is the first one to try it. He also has the best doctors at his disposal, yet nothing seems to improve the illness. From time to time you take a peek at his recent blood test results: nothing is within normal range. It makes you feel so hopeless and helpless.

“Moommmy,” Evie whines as the girls enter the room and you can tell they are pouting, upset about something.

“Yes, honey?” you stash the papers away in the folder.

“Daddy doesn’t want to wake up,” Mia puckers her lips.

“Shit!” you jump from your sit in a frenzy, grabbing a prefilled syringe from the pile of meds on the table. “Go play, I’ll wake up daddy, alright?” you hurry them out of the room.

You don’t even know when you ended up downstairs in the master bedroom, attempting to awaken The Joker.

“Baby, wake up!” you soflly slap his cheek and there is no reaction. “J, open your eyes!” He doesn’t move. You are quick to administer the shot in his vein; not too much left to do but wait now.

This happened before; the doctors described it as losing consciousness in your sleep: if action is not taken immediately, it may result into a coma. The prefilled syringes are a concoction of adrenaline and a bunch of other things you can’t even pronounce.

You lay by him and place your head on his chest, listening to the heartbeat. You are so in love with this sound and you don’t know what you’re going to do when it ends. Just the idea makes you panic.

After about 3 minutes, J is snapping out of his daze. You keep on stroking his face, grateful the medication didn’t fail.

“How are you feeling?” you rest your forehead on his, distressed.

“Meh, not very groovy,” the Prince of Crime confesses, a bit more alert.

“It will get better, just a few more minutes,” you cuddle by him and he groans in pain.“Tell you what: I’ll send the girls to the playground with some of our men and we can spend some time in the jacuzzi. What do you think?”

“I’m not in the mood, Kitten…” J growls, uncomfortable and bitter.

You intend to skip his behavior and proceed with your mission regardless.

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

You gently push him in the bathroom, impatient to relax.

“Is this what you wanted to show me?!” your boyfriend grumbles, bothered by the plan.

“Yes, the hot tub awaits,” you guide him towards the Jacuzzi and he lets go of your hand.

“I can’t do this nonsense; I’m going back to bed. What’s the point anyway?” The Joker snarls, aggravated.

You go around him and position yourself in front of the exit, blocking the way out.

“The point is, J…” and you pause for a second, glaring at the ceiling,”…that I didn’t really sleep in weeks. I’m absolutely exhausted; can you understand that?” and you sense an imminent meltdown approaching. “Do you know what I do at night?”

He lifts his shoulders up, indifferent to your rant.

“I turn on the lamp on my side and I count all the spots on your skin that I can see. I lose counting and I restart, afraid there are more than the previous days. I count again…and again…,” you flair your arms around, sniffling. ”And every 2 hours or so I check to see if you’re responsive. You get mad and urge me to stop wiggling, but that’s not what I’m doing: I am actually making sure you don’t slip into a coma… I’m so tired,” you whimper. “Can you please get in the hot tub? Preferably without fighting me about it?”

The King of Gotham hates it when you say disarming stuff like this; it makes him feel so strange and he doesn’t like it.

“You’re so irritating…” he shakes his head, undressing. Afterwards, J comes over and takes your summer gown off, then your undies. You don’t make a sound. “Go in, I’ll bring drinks,” he offers and you comply.

J comes back with a can of grape juice for himself and a glass of whiskey for you.

“Here, it appears you need a strong refreshment,” he hands you over the beverage, sitting by you amidst the bubbles and steam. You still don’t reply and sip on the alcohol, discouraged. He restarts his lecture:

“You don’t have to stay up all night guarding me. If it happens, it happens…”

You bite on your lip, drinking more.

“I told you before you have to be prepared,” J sort of mutters. You finish the rest of the whiskey, placing the empty glass by the burning candles on the rail.

“Be prepared?! How the hell can I be prepared for that, hm? Am I just supposed to wait around for my partner to die?!” you hiss at him, not understanding why in the world you’re so dizzy. He wants to answer with a hash comment but you go on:

“I don’t want you to die, OK? “ and your voice breaks. “I watch you getting thinner and your condition worsening…It’s harder and harder to keep everything together… I’ll never be prepared to lose you so stop acting like you know it all!”

“I don’t like your tone, Princess!”

“I don’t care,” you choke on your words, groggy from the strong alcohol. “God, I’m so worn out,” and your eyelids are getting heavier.

“Wanna take a nap?” his voice suddenly softens.

“Nooo, I can’t afford to. The girls will be back soon and…”

“The kids are fine. I’ll watch them,” J offers and you have a hard time concentrating.

“We’ll stay in here for another 20 minutes, then you’re free. Sorry it was such a hustle,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes, miserable and heartbroken.

The Joker is silent until you feel you’re going to pass out in the jacuzzi.

“Jesus, I need to lie down,” you huff and he helps you out, wrapping your body in a fluffy robe. He gets inside one also while you stumble, having a hard time maintaining your balance. “Wow, I think I had too much to drink,” you talk to yourself and he catches up with you, lifting you in his arms before you can protest. “Put me down, your back will hurt!” you beg and want to escape but his grip is strong.

“So?” J kisses your forehead and the weakened state you’re in adds to the sorrow.

“Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,” and you start crying on his chest, feverish and out of it, not being able to think straight. Your cheeks are so red and you look so lost that The Joker finds it impossible to leave your side once he places you in bed. He holds you tight, watching you fall asleep, still agitated and worried with all the problems clawing at your restless mind.

You have no idea that he crushed two of his sleeping pills and put them in your whiskey after you told him you’re exhausted. Now J is the one awake, protecting you and your troubled dreams. It’s the most a man like him can do: when you struggle with your own demons, letting someone in might feel like vulnerability. But damn, he doesn’t even care and despite the fact that he hates everyone, there’s still that secret list with a few people he actually likes: the obnoxious Godzilla and three little Pumpkins with no names.

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

“Tonight I’m going to meet with Jax and get your new medication. Do you want to come?” you raise your voice to cover the girls’ screams: they are chasing each other in the living room.

“Yes, I’m coming. Dolls, calm down!” he warns, being a foul mood: the blood tests came back bad again. And you’ve been fighting a lot lately: his attitude worsened and his patience diminished even more as you scramble to hold it together. The fact you don’t feel too well yourself doesn’t help the situation.

You cram a lot of hundred dollar bills in a suitcase as payment for the drugs while the commotion intensifies.

“I want to…Girls!” The Joker yells and your daughters laugh louder and scream up a storm, staggering around the furniture.

“Huh?” you try to pay attention since you didn’t comprehend what he said.

“Quiet!!” he shouts without success.

“That’s enough,” you tell them also since you notice The Joker is annoyed.

They don’t listen and he snaps:

“Can you SHUT. IT .DOWN ?! Are you all deaf, can’t you hear me ?! ” he lashes out and the triples stop, frightened at how menacing he suddenly is. “ You can’t even die in peace in this house!!! Always so much noise!! Don’t I deserve to die in peace, alone and without being bothered???!!!”

You’re stunned at the harsh words and the girls gather around you, clinging to your dress and shoving themselves into you, scared.

J is taking deep breaths, passing his fingers through his green hair, pissed at the disobedience. You really don’t need this on top of everything else. You take the car keys from the coffee table near you, struggling to make the girls get in the elevator since they are rather terrified at their father’s outburst.

“We’re going to the beach girls,” you sadly smile at them, holding the small bodies close to yours. Usually there would be a bunch of jumping around and excitement at the news, but not today.

Before the elevator’s doors close, The Joker hears one more sentence from a very upset girlfriend:

“You do deserve to die alone.”

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

It’s so difficult for J to drive on his own to the beach house. He has to pull over a few times since the splitting headache and vertigo prevent him from focusing. After taking some tablets to help out with the discomfort, he’s able to get to his destination. The first thing he does is rush inside the bathroom by the entrance, wanting to wash his face with cold water: he feels so warm.

As he wipes his face by the sink, his eyes wonder on the top shelf of the cabinet and his hands drop the towel: four different pregnancy tests, all positive. You probably wanted to make sure.

“Shit…”, he mutters, grinding his teeth. He keeps on staring at them, fidgeting with his jacket.  

“Hey, sweethearts!” The Joker hears you sliding the glass door that faces the beach.“Are you hungry?”

The little voices answer, but he can’t distinguish what. Too windy out there.

“Ok then, I’m coming back out, let me know when you want to eat,” and you exit the house again in order to return to your cozy lounging chair on the terrace, watching the girls building a sand castle a few feet away.

You see his shadow approaching and you curl up, bringing your knees to your chin, ignoring his presence.

“Very quiet at the penthouse, I got bored after 10 minutes,” he sighs and you gaze at the girls that are so caught up in their project that they didn’t detect their father yet.“How many men should we take with us tonight?” J chitchats, yet his effort is neglected. “Do you still want to go and get my medication or should I go alone?”

Since you disregard his questions, he has to resort to the last ace in his sleeve.

“I don’t want to die alone, Princess; I rather have someone irritate me until the last moment. You and the three brats seem to be experts in that. Or is it…four brats?…” he hints towards the little finding in the bathroom.

Silence…

Evie is the first one to notice her father.

“Daddy’s here,” she makes the other siblings aware of The Joker’s whereabouts. They stop their play date and cautiously approach when he signals them to come closer.

Emma squeezes Mia’s hand, halting a few times before being dragged in front of her dad. The triplets look at you, not knowing what to do.

“Why are you crying, mommy?” Evie frowns and J distracts them:

“Who wants to sit in my lap, hm?”

“Me…” the shy answer comes from Emma.

“Me too…” Mia follows, pulling on her ponytail; she does that when she’s nervous.

“Daddy’s mine,” Emma whispers, insecure for once.

“No, he’s not!” she gets pushed out of the way by Evie. “He’s mine!”

“No-ooo!!!” Mia bickers. “Daddy’s only mine!”

“Com’ere!” J puts an end to the fight, lifting all them up on his knees. So hard to fit all three but he succeeds.

You watch them without saying a word, wiping your tears from time to time. He sure has a unique way of apologizing, but you are certain that’s what he means by showing up here when it’s clear he doesn’t feel good.

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

“You came alone?” Jax lifts his head up from the suitcase you brought him, reckoning the money’s all there. “Is that the medication?” you reply with another question, eyeballing the box on the desk.

“Yes, it is. A year’s supply: an injection every six months. Gossip is it works pretty well; VanCriss Laboratories  does a lot of researches in the domain. Hopefully it will work for Mister Joker. How is he?”

“He’s ok,” you cut him short, reaching your hand to take the box .The smuggler has a proposition:

“I can get more of this stuff… for the right payment,” he grins, admiring how pretty you are in the red dress. It’s J’s favorite and you are wearing it because he’s taking you on a date afterwards.

“Money is not an issue. Name your price.”

“Oh, honey, I wasn’t thinking about money,” he winks and you snicker. “Not to be disrespectful, but with Mister Joker being ill, I’m sure he can’t take care of your needs anymore. Such a beautiful woman with nobody to satisfy her.”

You start laughing and hop on the desk, sliding towards him.

“Are you forgetting who I am?” you playfully kick his knee with the tip of your black stilettos. “Not at all. I’m just offering my services,” Jax smirks, caressing your ankles.

“So nice of you, darling, I’m flattered,” the prompt reply makes him full of hope. “But there is only one issue…” and your glossy lips come very close to his. “A Queen only shares the bed with her King,” and you kiss his cheek, amused.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” The Joker knocks with his gun at the cracked door.

Jax frizzes.

“M-Mister J, I didn’t know you came…” the smuggler stutters, suddenly startled.

Your boyfriend creeps inside, his blue eyes darkened by the dim light:

“Say, Jax, does Y/N look like a prostitute to you?”

“W-what?…”

“You just asked her to fuck you. Does she look like a prostitute to you?” J repeats, his fingers tightening on the pistol.

“No, no sir, not at all. I swear I didn’t…”

“Hey, boys!” J shouts, halting Jax’s clumsy atonement. “Does my woman look like a hooker?”

So many voices answering back from outside the room:

“No, sir!”

“No Mister J!”

“No, boss!”

You brought about 25 henchmen with you; they’ve been quietly waiting out there since you got in.

“It’s unanimous: she doesn’t look like a whore,” J cracks his neck, the feeble lighting making him so eerie since he’s skinnier and even more pale than usual.

Jax is freaking out and holds his breath.

“Apparently I’ve been laying low for too long: Gotham seems to have forgotten it belongs to me. My subjects,” he emphasizes, “have the nerve to shamelessly insult me and my girl. I don’t take kindly to such affront!” The Joker signals and you jump off the desk, going by his side.

“Mister Joker, you can take the meds and the money back too,” the idiot tries to fix his huge mistake.

“Oh, trust me: I am, “ J barks, “ even if I don’t need the stupid drugs.” Jax seems confused.

“Didn’t you hear the rumor?” The Prince of Crime yanks at your waist, purring. “I’m going to live forever. Now, if you would excuse me, I have a date,” he places back the gun in his holster and the smuggler exhales, relieved.

You two pass by your men and head out not before J orders:

“You know what to do. Don’t clean the mess, we’re sending out a message!”

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

He speeds up towards the club on Savros Street that will be closed all night. It’s opened just for you and The Joker.

“Pumpkin, what do you want to drink?” he takes your left hand and kisses your silver painted nails while you enjoy the breeze coming from the rolled down windows. “I guess I’m stuck with juice, I can’t have any alcohol,” you close your eyes, keeping your other hand on your tummy.

“Yeah, me neither, so we’ll have to manage,” J kisses the tip of your fingers one more time before letting go. “Take a nap; I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“U-hum,” you get comfortable on your side, excited you are out and about with him.

J continues to drive, only one thing in his mind for the moment: that list of his… with nameless people he likes will have to expand soon. Such a small list, very few people…

But there is always space for one more.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

[dopescotlandwarrior]

A Hero Among Us-Chapter One

On AO3

Chapter One

Claire pushed herself up from the mattress and wiped her nose. The skin was tender and burning from days on end of crying since her husband died. He was buried one week ago and her life had become intolerable, more so every day. The coalition of wine growers was circling around her like vultures waiting to pick her apart. They would buy her property at ten cents on the dollar or burn her out, and they did not care which.

Claire paced in front of the windows of her parlor looking at grapevines as far as the eye could see in every direction. This was Frank’s dream, not hers, and she knew little about viniculture and nothing about running a farm. He had died too quickly to tell her much, a feeling that left her boiling with resentment. “You hateful man, refusing to prepare for your death was a sure way to make me fail.”

Claire was raised in the upper class of London society and enjoyed a refined lifestyle and social status granted by her family’s wealth. When she married Frank Randall, the son of a prominent family, he brought her to America and sunk eighty percent of her dowry on this piece of land in St. Helena California. The remainder was used to build a fine house, vines, equipment for wine production and labor for the first planting. The law allows a widow’s dowry equal to one-third the original but it was all tied up in the dirt she now lived on.

She walked outside to clear her head and ambled down the rows of vines, inspecting the large leaves and berry clusters. She had no idea when the harvest should take place or how she would find anyone to help her. On numerous occasions, she rode into their tiny town and tried to hire the immigrants who were looking for work but they refused her. She scanned the three hundred acres of vines and felt utterly defeated.

Claire walked into the enormous kitchen where misses Crook stood kneading dough for bread. The opulence of this room and others made her choke with resentment. Everything Frank did was grandiose, a symbol of his position and wealth. Up to his death, he had not spent a nickel of his own money and knowing he was dying he had not made provisions for her support. Claire felt the bile rising in her stomach and tried to clear her head.

“Misses Crook, I am riding into town to buy a chicken, hopefully, two. We need eggs and the chicken we have must be laying in the vineyard because I cannot find a single egg.”

Two chickens were in a sack tied to Claire's saddle as she made her way home an hour later. She was lost in her thoughts allowing a group of men on horseback to surround her. She recognized them as landowners in the area who wanted to force her off her land. They were getting pushier with their demands and Claire bit her lip and remained quiet hoping they would leave. One of the men pulled the sac from her saddle and shook it, allowing the chickens to escape into the fields. The men laughed and raced away from her, one of them fired at the dirt in front of her horse making it rear in fright. Claire was unseated and hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her. The horse galloped away.

Claire tried to pull air into her lungs and her restrictive corset made that impossible. She felt herself dying and panicked trying to reach the laces at the back. Just before she blacked out she felt strong hands pull her jacket back and an arm reach in to pull the upper laces. This continued until she could take a complete breath.

“There ye go lass, breathe deep and don’t try to get up yet. Yer safe for now. How far is yer home?”

“Not far.”

“Well, I ken that’s where yer horse is about now. Can ye get up yet?”

There was no ladylike way to pull this off she realized and accepted his hand to pull her up. She stood still until the dizziness was tolerable and then let go of his hand.

“Thank you, sir, you saved my life. I am very grateful. Have you seen two chickens running around? Those men let mine go and they are desperately needed.”

“If I had I would have eaten at least one, feathers and all, sorry to say. It’s been a few days for me mistress. Come, I will help ye home and then be on my way.”

Claire noticed the sun sinking into dusk and worried for her safety. She promised him some food and felt huge relief for the escort.

“I am Claire Randell, my vineyard is up ahead. And you are…”

“I am nobody named James Fraser. Pleased to meet ye, mistress.”

He explained how he came to America with the gold rush, funded by several tenants on his estate. He had worked tirelessly, however, he never found any gold before the money was gone. The only work was in the vineyards so he started walking.

“You poor man, I’m surprised you can even stand. Here I can walk faster, let’s hurry.”

Ladies in London don’t walk with purpose, they stroll, to let the world know they needn’t rush after anything. She fell into that pace quite naturally and now felt ashamed to force this huge man to take tiny steps.

“Come in James, let’s get you fed.”

Jamie looked at the huge house and started walking backward, looking in all directions.

“Thank ye, mistress, I will wait out here. Would ye like me to catch yer horse for ye? Is that him, grey dapple munching on some hardy vines?”

“Jesus Christ, yes, please catch her before she mows down an entire row!”

Jamie rushed into the barn and grabbed a scoop of grain to lure the beast away from the vines. He approached her speaking Gaelic just above a whisper as he held the scoop full of grain out to her. She startled at first, still scared from her gallop home but caught the scent of grain and changed her mind. Jamie kept talking to her stroking her neck and letting her nibble at the grain. She walked behind him to the barn and entered her stall gratefully. Her reward was the remainder of the scoop. Jamie looked around the impressive barn with four stalls for horses, hayloft above and storage space, a lot of it. Once he pulled the tack off the horse he returned to stand in front of the house.

Claire opened the door wide so the man could see misses Crook who ordered him to the table where his supper was getting cold. Jamie flew through the door not wanting to provoke this commanding woman. When he saw his meal he almost cried, there was so much there to eat!

Claire and misses Crook were not a minute behind him bringing their own meals to the table. Claire nearly dropped hers when she saw empty plates in from of the man. She looked under the table and on his lap and finally asked where his food went.

“Apologies mistress, I ate it.”

“Oh, let’s get you a little more then.”

She picked up his plate and returned a minute later with the plate piled high with dried beef, vegetables, potatoes, and bread. This plate would have fed her for an entire week but she wanted to demonstrate there was plenty of food here. While Jamie was catching Brimstone Claire ran into the kitchen and ordered misses Crook to make more food and quickly. She desperately wanted to hire this man to help her save the vineyard however she had little money to pay him. Until she sold the first harvest she would prove she could feed him.

“Do you mind if we join you, sir?”

Jamie shot up from his seat and bowed slightly saying it would be his honor. He looked around at the joining rooms, all large, sumptuously decorated and wondered where the lady’s husband was. He fancied the lady but kept his eyes down on his plate. She was speaking to him like it was a Sunday social which confused him. He decided misses Crook was her mother who referred to her daughter as, mistress. That was very odd. Why else would she be dining at the same table? Whenever possible he would look around him for the husband.

“Mister Fraser, may I speak to you about a proposition I have?”

“Of course, mistress.” Responding to her allowed him to look at her and he felt the air evacuate from his lungs requiring a spontaneous deep breath to restore him. He blushed and lowered his gaze.

“I would like to hire you, mister Fraser, to help me run the vineyard if you know anything about this type of farming. I have very little money but I will keep you fed and give you a cottage to live in that is safe and warm. I will also need help hiring workers when it’s time to harvest the grapes. Can you tell me what you know about vineyard management mister Fraser?”

“It isna time to pull the fruit yet, another three months for white and four months for the reds. You watch the sugars when the time is near, every day, early, at sunup. When the sugars rise you harvest the grapes as fast as possible. Extract the juice, add yeast, and put the juice in barrels to age for a few years. Or you take the fruit to the auction and sell it for the highest price possible.

Claire was stunned. In three minutes this man had summarized the answer to all her questions. The questions Frank refused to answer, to give her a fighting chance. Her eyes were wide staring at the strange man. When she could find her tongue again she spit out sentences without pre-thought and nearly gave him her complete life history. She was in a sense, begging for his help. After five minutes she closed her mouth, blushing fiercely at her lack of manners and feeling dread he would refuse her. She looked down at her lap.

“May I ask ye, where is yer husband?”

“Dead. Sorry, didn’t mean to skirt that issue.”

Jamie was too quiet for too long giving Claire the impression he would be leaving this very night. Try as she might to hold her tears at bay they spilled freely from her eyes and dropped into her lap. She held her linen napkin to her face in embarrassment and Jamie felt his heart melt at her sadness. She was so young, he realized, with a monumental task ahead she knew nothing about. Now that he knew she was a widow it clicked in his head that she is the landowner folks were talking about at nearly every post he passed. There was a general warning to stay away from her or face consequences. Jesus lass, yer in a hopeless mess and I wonder if ye even know it.

“Please mistress, dinna cry, I will help ye.”

Claire dropped her napkin and jerked her head toward him with wide red eyes. She smiled, and it lit up her entire face, the dining room, and the whole world that Jamie lived in. When he realized he was staring at her he dropped his gaze quickly.

“Come with me. Let us find you a suitable cabin to live in while you are here. There is one that is bigger than the others for the manager. That is you. Whatever you need for your home I will provide to the best of my ability. You have made all the difference in my life mister Fraser and I am so grateful. When we speak again, please be ready to discuss your compensation and the successful continuance of this vineyard. Do we sell the grapes or make wine, things like that.”

They were halfway to the cabins and she stopped abruptly and turned around. Her smile was radiant, her chest was heaving with excitement or exercise and her eyes latched onto his making his heart pound in his chest. “It has been a very long time, but I feel hopeful again. It is glorious!” She jumped up like a child playing and strode on toward the cabins.

“This is the biggest cabin and closest to the water pump. There are two buckets in each cabin and a small stack of towels. There is a small stack of firewood in the back and six enormous trunks that you are welcome to cut up. I believe the ax is sticking out of one of them.”

Jamie watched her in fascination. In their brief association, he had seen her get thrown from her horse, nearly pass out from her corset, cry with frustration at her horrible circumstances, and then brighten with relief. Through it all her impeccable manners and elegant carriage never wavered. He hated her, in general, for being British, for bowing to the monarchy that crushed his homeland. He would keep his distance and work hard for her. When the grapes were sold he would return to his home in Scotland.

When she bid him goodnight she hummed making her way back to the house. The sound made him feel happy. He closed the door to his cabin and put his back to it surveying the space that would be all his until the fall. It had been so long since he slept in a bed, had a fireplace for warmth, a door to lock, and fresh water right outside. He took deep breaths to lower his heart rate.

Jamie sat on his bed with a great sigh. The weeks of walking with little food or water had taken their toll, he was exhausted and the food was like a sedative in his stomach. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Muscles cramping, bladder painfully full, feet sweating from leather boots. Jamie rolled onto his back, momentarily confused about where he was. He remembered the night before and stumbled in the dark to the door. He walked quickly toward the back to relieve himself taking great gulps of cool crisp air. The sun’s rays were just breaking across the horizon and he watched as they raced across the land and eventually touched the grapes making them glow inside. He turned in a circle to survey the property and it was amazing. Aside from the level acreage, there were steep hills that were terraced with lines of vines. Perfect for the deep reds this region was known for.

Jamie owed his limited knowledge to the owner of the first Vineyard he worked for. The man took him under his wing when he saw what a hard worker he was. He taught him so much in the three months he was there. Jamie had enormous respect and gratitude for the man and felt his face turn hard and angry at the way it ended. He was run off the property when the wife was caught sneaking into Jamie’s hut. He had no idea she was there until he was yanked out of bed and run off the property in his bare feet. His boots and clothes were thrown at him like he was a common thief or the lowest human that lived. He started walking, shaking from the indignity, hurt pride, and sorrow for what the man thought now. Two weeks later he watched Claire get thrown from her horse. That was yesterday.

Jamie pumped water to wash his face and parts of his body he would dare. He felt better after that and walked the rows of vines inspecting for bugs and fungus. The plants looked remarkable. The Sassenach will have a very good harvest if they could just watch the sugars. The whole growing season came down to someone watching the Brix number which equates to the amount of sugar in the grape. Each type of grape was harvested at a different Brix rating. He had confidence the former husband had purchased a hydrometer. He would trouble misses Randell today for some paper to write all these facts down before he forgets.

Jamie was high in hills studying the plants when misses Crook came out with his breakfast. When she couldn’t get his attention she ran back for the bell. Jamie came down the slope at record speed making misses Crook put her hand to her mouth. The man must be part billy goat, she thought watching him.

“Here’s ye breakfast mister Fraser.”

“Yer Scottish misses Crook." How could he miss the burr his ears longed to hear? " How did you come to raise an English daughter?”

Jamie was so shocked at first he didn’t realize he watched the woman through slit eyes. He was very suspicious of this turn of events and thought to be on his guard.

“My daughter? Who might that be laddie?”

“Misses Randell.”

“No lad, I have managed the house of mister Randall for many years, and now I serve misses Randall in the same capacity.”

“How do you take yer meals with the mistress then?”

Misses Crook laughed and told him it was hard getting used to her unorthodox ways after her husband died. She would not be eating without misses Crook so she would either sit and eat or watch her wither away.

“They are British woman, how can ye serve them without poison?”

“Well, I ken it wasna mister and misses Randell that raised arms against the Scottish people or oppressed the traditions that were lost. A babe canna choose which country to be born in and ye’d do well to ken such.”

With that, she gave him a scalding look and walked away taking great strides to put distance between them. Jamie started out loving the sound of her burr and now he was just confused. Stay on task he decided, leave these wicked Brits to their own lives as they will perish in the fires of hell.

He inhaled his porridge and jumped back up the hill to continue his review of the plants. By lunchtime, he was done and beyond impressed with the hardiness and overall condition of the plants. He would have to ask the mistress where the vines were purchased.

For the rest of the day, Jamie went through each outbuilding to find what Randell had purchased for his wine business. There was twice the equipment he anticipated and wondered how shocked Randell was to be dying halfway through his first growing season. He was certain he suffered from that knowledge, why else would he not prepare his wife to take over in his absence. Jealousy, because she would live while he decayed in the ground. Wicked man Randell, glad yer dead. If Jamie had such a thought about anyone else, non-British, he would cross himself and asked forgiveness on the spot. Brits were not human to him and had no rights to decency or moral behavior. Like his father before him Jamie hated Brits.

The last building was locked so Jamie went to the house and knocked on the door. Claire pulled the big door open, walked outside, took his arm, and walked him back in. She led him to the dining room and told him to sit as lunch was being served. Jamie watched her help misses Crook bring plates of food to the table while she talked about her weird day.

“And then I turned around and there they were, looking at me like, well, where do we sleep? It was so odd but I am very happy we didn’t lose those birds and they are already fully feathered so just a few more months until we get eggs. Thank goodness.”

“Mister Fraser, why are you not eating. Are you ill?”

“Mistress?”

“You must eat so you can work hard and not fall over. C’mon, you cannot get up until all this food is gone.”

Jamie filled his plate while his mouth watered and his stomach growled. He was deliriously happy when there were plates of food in front of him, especially with the directive to clear them or be stuck there. He was very good at following orders, Claire and misses Crook watched him eat with widening eyes.

Jamie sat back with a happy contented look on his face that made Claire giggle. He smiled back at her despite his resolve not to. In fact, he would not extend any kindness to her at all now that he knew how badly she needed him. He shook his head at such ridiculous ideas. He could never be anything but nice and accommodating to her. She was a very special person. Fragile and vulnerable and…

“Mister Fraser!”

“Misses Crook?”

“Get about yer business!”

Jamie was looking around at the cleared table and absence of Claire. He must have been daydreaming and lost track. He was allowed to eat in the big house so he better be more conscious of his behavior while here.

“I came to the house for the key to the large outbuilding on the property. I am taking an inventory of equipment. Would you please ask misses Randell for it?”

Claire appeared a few minutes later and finished lacing up her boots before standing and announcing she was ready to go. Jamie walked toward her with a questioning look.

“Do ye plan to go with me, mistress?”

“I can’t wait to stretch my legs and have an adventure. Do you not want my company, sir?”

Jamie didn’t know how to respond to that so he motioned for her to go first and followed dutifully to the outbuilding. Claire opened the door and Jamie nearly fell over.

“By Christ, I had not expected so many barrels, and they’re new, can ye small the oak? What would make him purchase so much equipment if you dinna mind my askin.”

“He wanted my entire dowry sunk into this place so he kept spending until the money was gone I assume. Every acre, vine, outbuilding, house, barn, and all that is in them was purchased with my dowry.”

Jamie could not imagine how much money that would be or why her family would have to offer such for someone to marry her. She was so beautiful and cultured it was unfathomable to him. He looked at the neatly stacked rows of barrels and felt something strange in his stomach. It felt like excitement. What the hell was he excited about? He would help her put up a small portion of the harvest and set it to aging in one or two of the barrels, but for him to get back to Scotland the majority of the grapes would have to be sold.

He felt strange when Claire was nearby and decided solitude was best. He would speak to misses Crook about taking his meals outside, away from the prettiest eyes he had ever seen and away from his need to make her smile.

Jamie looked through piles of equipment and pulled out a hydrometer followed by a genuine smile.

“We have everything we need, well almost. Misses Randell, I need to tell ye somethin. Word has spread around these parts that no one is to work for you. Anyone who does will pay consequences.”

Jamie watched Claire’s face fall into sadness and he ached for her. He thought of only one way to ensure they had enough hands for the harvest but they had to act fast. Some of the men would be walkin.

“I don’t know how much ye know about Scots mistress but we dinna sit well with intimidation. If ye tell a Scot not to sit on that rock or pay consequences the first thing he’ll do is go sit on that rock. Ye ken? Ye need Scots to work the harvest and they’re aplenty in San Francisco but ye have to act fast. Can ye write to the paper there and place an add for Scottish immigrants who want to work? No tellin how long it will take them to get up here and ye may have to feed a number of men long before the harvest but I dinna think ye can hire workers that have been bullied by the coalition.”

Claire was pacing with hands on her hips. She was deep in thought giving Jamie some precious moments to look at her.

“These men cannot be intimidated you say?”

“Aye.”

“I trust you mister Fraser, implicitly. I will go write that letter and pray they come.”

She handed him the key to the outbuilding and turned in a swirl of skirts heading for the house. He had that feeling in his stomach again and grunted in disgust before returning to the plants to start pulling leaves.

By mid-afternoon, Jamie was lost in his thoughts pulling leaves from around the berry clusters to increase the sun that hit them. Large crowded clusters were thinned by dragging his hand down knocking the grapes off. It was California growers who first started thinning the clusters to push more robust flavors into those that matured. When he heard Claire’s voice he almost jumped out of his skin.

“I’m sorry mister Fraser,” she said giggling.

“It doesna sound like it mistress,” he said smiling at her.

“What are you doing?”

“Ye see how big this leaf is? If there are too many around the cluster the sun canna get to the berries and the sugar will suffer. Ye need to leave the very top leaves to protect the cluster from the mid-day sun, but the sides should be free of shade for morning and afternoon sun, see?”

“Why are you knocking grapes to the ground?”

“That is to thin the clusters for the robust flavor this region is known for.”

“I am so grateful to you mister Fraser for teaching me!”

She put her hand on his arm and seemed unaware she was doing so. Jamie didn’t move a muscle and hoped for a few more seconds of contact before she let go. She walked away smiling and he wished she never had to leave him.

“Like this?”

Jamie turned around to see Claire on her second vine. She indicated her handy work for him to check and he smiled at her.

“That’s perfect. Look at yer hands mistress, maybe rub your fingers across yer cheek. They are soft are they nae?” He watched her nod her head. “If ye keep doing that yer fingers will feel like this.”

Jamie rubbed his rough fingers across her cheek making her blush fiercely. She turned her back to him and continued working on the leaves.

“I doubt my fingers could ever feel so rough mister Fraser so I intend to continue this work for ten more plants.”

Jamie was in his head after touching Claire. Canna you see what ye do to me lass, he thought. Ye get my head thinkin impossible things, my guts shake with anticipation of somethin that will never be, and when ye touch my arm I canna move, in fact, I can barely breathe. So please go away. Just when he thought the situation could not get any worse, it did. She started humming.