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14 Days

Chapter Text

March 17th,2020. Boston

6 hrs before they meet.

 

"What ye mean i can't leave?" Jamie Fraser, author from Glasgow, fresh from his luxurious hotel with suitcase and airplane tickets and passport in hand, looked the Logan airport employee,shocked.

"Sorry,sir. The state is under lockdown, effective immediately. The Governor made the announcement first thing in the morning. No one can come or leave Massachusetts for at least 14 days. The pandemic,you know.." he added apologetically.

Jamie was furious. He had not one but two book presentations scheduled for this week. His fans were anxious to meet him back home in Glasgow and in London, two days after.
He had just finished his obligations in the States. Four presentation in four different states and of course the big Hollywood contract. Half a million dollars for the rights of his book. The movie will be epic,as Academy award epic....
He was thrilled but also totally exhausted and now fairly pissed. Little thing he knew. His problems just began..

 

Claire Beauchamp was a known botanist and University professor in England. Medical herbology and pharmacology was her specialty and the announcement of the lockdown found her in the aeroplane from London ,4 minutes before landing.
She was the main speaker at the annual medical conference in Harvard and she was excited to be back six years after her graduation, now a respectable professor.
She received the message about the conference cancellation the moment she turned on her cell phone.
"Perfect" she said disappointed.

The most shocking fact was something else, though. The hotel where she was supposed to stay for the three days of conference was closed like every other in the state by order of the governor.

"Oh, bloody fuck..."

 

British consulate, Boston

3 hrs before they meet.

 

"We have forty six British citizens here in Boston,at the moment,sir. Most of them will be hosted by relatives. We have a family of six and two other citizens with no place to stay. " The secretary informed the Consul.

"Very well, Mr Andrews. And do we have places available for them? " The Consul asked rubbing his temples.

"I'm afraid we have a problem, sir. Other consulates have already booked most of the available housing for rent. We have only two in our disposal"

"Well, i can't see another way. Give one of them to the family and inform the other two citizens they will have the other. Make it clear to them we have no other solution."

"Yes,sir. Right away."

The problem was that Mr Andrews, the Consul's secretary was fairly exhausted. He made the arrangement with the owners and rented their houses He made contact with all the British citizens and told them about their accommodations during the lockdown. He informed them about their obligations and rights.
He forgot, though,to inform the professor and the author about the insignificant detail of their impending cohabitation.

Chapter Text

Logan airport, Boston
2hsr before they meet.

 

"Thanks for nothing" said Jamie frustrated after he ended the call with the British Consulate.

All he asked was to make an arrangement, a private plane even, he didn't mind paying some extra money. All he needed was to leave for Scotland. God knows how many obligations he had back home with his career, not to mention his sister who hadn't seen him for more than two months and she was about to rip his head off.

What he received from the Consulate, though, was their sympathy, their understanding and a small apartment somewhere, for the next two weeks. Oh, and a text message with the address. Fucking perfect....

And what a house that was. A tiny apartment with one main room which was living room, bedroom and kitchen at the same time and a bathroom. And apparently not cleaned up after the last tenant left. A second door led to a small room with mirrored walls a treadmill and some weights for lifting.

 

 

She wasn't happy at all with the situation but her late Uncle Lamb taught her to adapt. She couldn't do anything about it ang nagging about the matter, won't do any good either.

She reread the message with the address and the note that the landlord will be there to give her the key.
She had a couple of hours to spare so she thought to go in a grocery store and buy food for the next two weeks.

Deep inside, she was happy. She needed some time off and a two weeks isolation came upon her as a gift from God. She also wanted to put some distance between herself and her long term fiance Frank Randall.
The 've been together for more than two years and she had the feeling that marriage was not in his plans for the near future or for the distant one.
She loved him, yes, but since she turned 33, six months ago, she felt rather... insecure.

Two full weeks of relaxing and reading was heaven on earth for Claire and she was determined to enjoy it.

 

Rose St, Boston
9,5 minutes before they meet.

 

The landlord, some kind of hippy from the '70s assure him that the cleaning lady will be at his service and he will be provided with supplies of food to last for 3-4 days. Before he leaves, he left on the table a spare key.

"For the lady" he only said before he leaves.

He needed a shower, afterwards he could deal with everything else.

 

Rose St, Boston
1 moment before they meet

 

Perhaps it was too much food for just one person but she could be honest with herself. Most of it will end up in the garbage. She could barely boil an egg or make a salad without burning the whole building.

Oh, the door was half open. Thank God, because her hands were full with grocery bags and her luggage.
The room was a mess. The bed covers were undone, the closet was open and she could hear someone behind a closed door. Probably the bathroom.

"Excuse me? " She said loud enough and left her bags on the floor , right next to her sore feet.

 

He stopped the water because he thought he heard something .

"Excuse me?"

There it was. The cleaning lady had arrived and he had nothing to wear. He rushed into the bathroom without fresh clothes. He grabbed a towel and fastened it around his waist, while water brops from his damp hair fell on his body.

"Oh,ye came! It was about time.."

 

What the fuck was going on? The landlord of this... apartment was practically naked in front of her and very rude. Although he looked a bit familiar.

"H...hello. The message said 4 o'clock. I don't think I'm late... sir. Now, may i have my key?"

"It's on the table. Put the groceries in the kitchen and then mop the water from the bathroom floor. Please.." he added.

He saw the woman with the curly brown hair looking at him with narrowed eyes and clenched fists.

"How dare you,sir? The Consulate paid you for this house and you are rude, naked and with unreasonable
demands. Please leave."

 

Whoever this lass was, he thought,she wasn't the cleaning lady, for sure. Not only she was pretty- any woman can be pretty- but she had a certain look on her face, authority and strength. But if she wasn't the maid, who the hell was she?

 

"Did you hear me,sir. ? No, put some clothes on and leave. I 'll be kind enough not to mention anything to the Consul and forget this ... incident. Sir..." She said behind clenched teeth.

" Oh, this will be fun" Jamie thought.

 

"Yes, the Consul rent this apartment. For me! " And he pointed his index finger to himself.
"Now, be the good maid you are and clean this mess. I 'll be kind enough not to mention anything to your employer.

"You fucking bastard" she yield to him and tried to slap him but she tripped over the bag with the oranges and fell forward.
He caught her just in time and hold her on his naked body.

"Easy now, Sassenach."

Chapter Text

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine, day 1
10 minutes after their meeting

 

Her employer told her to clean his stupid rabbit hole of apartment, as soon as possible. Easier said than done, during the lockdown. Took her more time than she expected to actually get there .
When she finally made it, the new guests were there already and she caught them in a very.... intimate moment.

She made her presence known, coughing loudly and the half- naked man and the pretty girl moved away from each other immediately.

 

"Sorry, i came to clean." Martha told them and started remaking the bed with admirable speed. She was a true force of nature and the apartment was sparkling clean within an hour.
The guests were far - if something like that was possible in such a tiny place - from each other and remained silent during the procedure. She put everything in the kitchen, wished them an enjoyable staying, informed them that she won't come again because of the quarantine and closed the door behind her.

So, one hour and fifteen minutes after their first meeting, they were alone again and ready to face the elephant in the room.
"Funny", Claire said inside her head, "even a mouse could be considered as an elephant in this room."
The red-haired could be both, though. Tall and well built as he was, looked like he was taking most of the limited space. And he was tricky as a bloody mouse. And he looked fucking familiar, but from where?

He was still practically naked. With the maid acting like a tornado in this house, he couldn't have some privacy to make himself decent again. And there was the insignificant fact that the lass with the sharp tongue reminded him of something, but what?

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't realize anything. Not Martha's departure, not the phone call the Sassenach made, nor the way his body responded to the view of her round arse when she turned her back to him and at the same time she was giving hell to whoever answered that phone. He could easily imagine her riding his cock....
Yeah, imagine was what he could do best, being a writer.
Therefore, he ended up with a quiet impressive tent in his towel.

"Fuck! " He said and grabbed some random clothes from his suitcase and stormed in the bathroom before this practically unknown woman saw what happened to him.

That's why he ended up with his gym shorts and his best shirt. And a single sock...

"We will have to wait! That moron on the phone ..."
She began to say before she could take a good look of him. As if she didn't think him stupid already...

"Wait of what?" He responded casually and at the same time he turned his suitcase upside down to find the other sock.

"Well, the Consul of course! I need him to tell you for whom is this place for and then i 'll be delighted to say goodbye to you." She said sarcastically.

Oh, don't worry Sassenach, i 'll be kind enough to let ye stay, when the Consul confirm what i 've told ye earlier. Unless of course ye prefer to sleep on the doormat. Tis fine with me."

"Oh, fuck you!" She bite out just before her phone started ringing. She stopped their hatching fight and answered immediately.

"Hello?"

"Yes, Miss Beauchamp? I'm Mr Dalton, the Consul. Please, put me on speaker, i want to talk to Mr Fraser as well."

She did what he asked and put her phone down between her and the red-haired trouble.

 

"Mr Fraser, can you hear me?"

"Aye,i can."

"Very good. Now, i have to apologize for this unpleasant situation. My secretary forgot to mention that you will have to stay in the same house for the two weeks of quarantine.
And to answer your next question, no, we have nothing else in our disposal and as far as I know all hotels are closed.
I can understand your frustration but you are both adults, both British citizens and very reasonable people and i expect you to behave as such. Of course, you know this is a serious situation and i also expect you to collaborate.
Please, if you need anything i 'll be happy to be of service.
Ms Beauchamp,Mr Fraser, good afternoon."
And with that, he ended the call before they were able to say anything.

"I take the bed." Claire announced and went to the bathroom practically running.

"Of course ye do..." He muttered to himself before taking his suitcase and looking at the small and uncomfortable couch he should sleep on.

 

Rose St, Boston
2hrs after their meeting.

 

He took an extra pillow and a blanket from the closet and tried to make the damn sofa a decent bed, while he wondered if it was better to make a bed in the gym even if there was no heating in there. The only benefit was that he won't have to sleep in the same room with Ms Beauchamp.

And there and then, the realisation hit him and hit him hard.
"Beauchamp? A Dhia, it's her..."

 

The truth about the identity of the big red-haired Scot, found Claire applying shampoo on her brown curls. She stopped being shocked and the shampoo entered her eyes and made them sting.

"Fraser, the Consul said? Oh dear God. Must be him..."

Chapter Text

UK , 4 years before they meet

 

Let's use UK in general because somewhere in Glasgow, young promising writer Jamie Fraser, author of the most successful novel of the decade "Forget me not", signed autographs and books enjoying his success, while somewhere in London the publisher who have undertook to publish Ms Beauchamp's doctoral dissertation discovered something very interesting by reading Mr Fraser's novel.
Let's say that he found in that - otherwise- wonderful book, a whole page about forget-me-not, practically copy paste from Claire's dissertation.
He thought of the situation for a couple of seconds,give or take, before picking up the phone and calling a lawyer. Someone had to teach Mr Fraser and his publisher the law about copyrights.
The fact that it was the most successful novel and was worth millions, was completely irrelevant, believe me....or not...

 

After the lawsuit and a request for half a million pounds, it became an issue between lawyers.
Ned Gowan was the best lawyer in Scotland for a reason, therefore with one good look he started typing his lawsuit against Kedros publishing house in London.
You see, "Forget me not" wad published a month prior Claire's dissertation.
So, he accused them and Claire, of course, for plagiarism, demanding the lawsuit against Jamie to be dropped.

 

A small part of herself was over the moon with joy because her writings were part of the most successful novel. But it was a tiny part comparing it to the other which want to skin that bastard egoist Fraser alive.
That bullshit between publishers and lawyers could cost her the doctorate, if the dissertation turned out to be stolen.
She found a picture of him from a magazine,blue eyes,long red hair and all and kept it just to know the face of her enemy.
She called him once, you know. And let me tell you, she wasn't calm or civilized. "Sadist fucking bastard" were her exact words...

 

Jamie saw her once -from a distance,for his own safety-and the same day he ordered Net to compromise with their lawyer for a hundred thousand pounds and Claire's name in the book,as the real author of the excerpt. He wanted to stop this madness before press find out and for other reasons. His own reasons.He finally found her....

 

Harvard university, Massachusetts
5and a half years before they meet.

 

His life was a dead end. He was 30, with a degree in philosophy and unable to find a decent job.
He took his savings from his summer job at his uncle's stables and traveled to America looking for...something.
He had no clue about what he was looking for but, there he was.
His fate waited for him in a small café near university, a well known student hangout. Plenty of noise and cheap coffee.
He took a table next to the window and looked at the strangers passing by. He knew he was in a breaking point and breaking was the only thing he could do.
He was sipping cheap coffee thinking about his miserable life when something magical happened.
The main entrance opened from a wave of warm and fragrant air and a sheet of paper forgotten on the table next to him started dancing in the air before it landed right in front of him.
Small delicate letters- definitely a woman's hand- were telling the story of two lovers and their eternal love, the story of a simple blue flower. And there it was! Within seconds he formed the story in his head. He borrowed a pen from the student behind him and started taking notes on the napkins on the table.
He continued writing in his cheap hotel room,in the flight back to Scotland, in his childhood room at Lallybroch. He was writing like a mad man.

Finally, almost a year after the incident at the café, proud and afraid like never before he emailed his novel to several publishers. And he waited...

Two months after he received the first -of many- phone call and he danced like some Indian on rain dance, afterwards.
He made a perfect deal which made him rich and famous. Every one treated him like an exotic animal or an alien, something rare. Him, the man who wrote the most romantic novel of all time. All because of the mysterious author of that piece about the little blue flower, his muse.

 

Flora café, Massachusetts
5' before Jamie entered.

 

She had her final exams that morning but not for another hour or two, so she was typing fast her handwritten notes on her laptop. She already had chosen the subject of her dissertation and started her research months ago.
Joe called because it was time for the test and she left the café in a hurry.
She noticed the missing paper later that evening at her dorm. Pity, she wanted to keep it as a reminder of her youth and her undying passion for plants. The material it contained, though, was secured in her computer and ready to be part of her work.

 

Rose St, Boston
2hrs after they meet.

 

The woman who inspired him and made him what he was, the one who called him names and probably hate him like her worst enemy, was in the bathroom.

 

The man who almost destroyed her career, the ignorant fool who thought his money could make everything right, the one whose photo was still in her closet, was in the bedroom.

 

What should they do? Pretend they are completely strangers, like nothing ever happened? They could do that, right ? It's just 14 days, for God's sake.

Chapter Text

Rose St,Boston
Quarantine, day 2
5:26 in the morning.

 

He couldn't sleep. He was spinning all night long on that uncomfortable and - let's admit it- far too small for his giant body, couch.
She, on the other hand, looked very comfortable spreading like a starfish on the huge bed.
It was an unreasonably warm night for Boston in the middle of March and she had kicked the quilt off her body so he had a very good view of her round arse in her pajama shorts.

That particular round arse was the reason he couldn't sleep but not the main one, mind you.
He wanted to talk to her, settle things between them but she ignored him since she came out of the bathroom the previous evening, fresh, wet curls and rosy cheeks... beautiful.

 

The previous evening...

 

He tried to make her look at him to start the conversation some how but she looked anywhere but him.

At some point he stopped trying.Sighing he picked up a book and lay on the couch to read as she flipped through a scientific magazine cross-legged on the bed. She had headphones on and listening to music. He could tell by the way she rhythmically shook her head.

Silence was their new status.

 

When it was time to prepare his dinner, he abandoned his book on the coffee table and went to the kitchen. He had a very strict food and exercise program and he was very committed to it.
Grilled chicken breast and boiled veggies was in that evening's menu and for a moment he thought to ask if she wanted to share dinner with him but he changed his mind.
First of all, she had turned her back to him and the headphones were still on and second, he didn't knew her name. I mean, he knew her name but they have never been formally introduced. Unless, of course ,you count "Fucking bastard" and "Sassenach" as introduction.

 

She decided to ignore him completely, pretend he wasn't even there. "He is invisible" she repeated to herself.
Yeah, right! Invisible, my arse. A huge man in a small apartment...
He could feel his presence and his eyes on her constantly.

She smelled food and her stomach began to rumble. Music was good distraction for some time but it could no more banish certain thoughts of her mind. Thoughts about food because it was more than 12 hours since the breakfast on the plane and thoughts of a man cooking because it was been more than...
No! She hadn't a good excuse for that...

 

"What's wrong with you?" she asked herself " you are a respectable professor, an enganged woman and that man is your enemy. Handsome as sin but your enemy, no less."
With now short hair and more muscles on his body, he looked much better than the old picture, the one she looked at sometimes as not to forget what had happened.

 

By the smell of the food, he was a very good cook and she would be damn if she let him laugh with her inability to cook something eatable.
She took the headphones off, straightened her body and went straight to the fridge. Cold milk and her favourite cereals will do. She prepared a bowl and sat at the table, again without a single look to him.

 

The food was barely enough for him but seeing her miserable dinner and how thin she was, he cleared his voice and spoke.

"Want some of this? I won't eat it all ."

She murmured a "no, thanks" before he continued.

" After all, I used your green beans."

"Old habits die hard, i see..." She answered and looked him in the eyes for the first time since their first meeting.

He panicked and rushed to the bathroom. He took a long shower, his second that day, wanting to put some distance between them. Perhaps he wasn't brave enough to settle things with her.

When he came out, Claire was fast asleep. The dishes were washed and he smiled when he realised the leftovers were not in the fridge or the dumpster.

 

Day 2, 5:32 in the morning.

 

Yeah, he was not going to sleep. He was sure of it, after spending almost six hours looking at her round arse.
The girl he saw from a distance, years before, transformed into a dazzling woman. His soul loved her when he read what she had written about the blue flower, but when he caught her and held her close to his body he felt a wildfire consuming him and more alive than ever.

The only problem was that she hated him. No, scratch that. He had another problem and a big one, you know...lower.
And let me tell you, looking at her arse didn't help matters at all.

He tried to ignore it but it was getting bigger and bigger- his problem, i mean.
Perhaps, if he went to the spare room he could find some relief.
He took off his t-shirt and entered the small room.

 

She woke up because someone was panting in a way she hadn't heard for years. As if the erotic dream with the faceless Adonis she had earlier wasn't weird enough.

"Perhaps the bastard put something in the food he left for me. A spell, maybe?"
"Oh, Beauchamp have you lost your mind completely?"
"You shouldn't have eaten that food,you know."
"Yes, but i was famished and it looked delicious and he took my beans..."
She could continue the conversation with herself for ever if the groans that grew stronger with each passing moment, hadn't stop her train of thoughts.

 

Images of him touching himself right that moment, flooded her mind so, shamelessly she went near the slightly open door and looked inside.
The view was to die for. Half naked body, sweat, hard muscles and his well shaped hands on.... some extremely heavy weights and with a powerful movement up to his wide chest.

6:13 in the morning of the second day, 14 hrs after they meet, she realised these were going to be the longest two weeks of her life..

Chapter Text

Rose St Boston
Quarantine, day 3.

 

The news were bad. More and more people around the world began to get sick and unfortunately many of them died. Alone...

Usually, Claire avoided watching the news, because she always felt upset afterwards. It was Frank who was addicted and always wanted to know what happened and the one who kept her informed, whatever she wanted or not.
So, whenever they were together in her cottage or his apartment, he made sure to spend plenty of time informing her about everything... instead of doing something more pleasurable.
Yeah, i forgot to mention that despite their engagement, they weren't living together and it was his idea.

 

Jamie hated the news, too. He thought they were killing his imagination, the worst thing to do to a writer.
He was the one who opened the tv, though, because he couldn't stand the silence any more.

 

She wasn't talking to him. Not a single word and she didn't touched the food he was cooking again.
He was on edge, ready to burst on his next breath. Thank God, he was breaking up to the gym, otherwise he would probably smashed his head on the wall.

Have you got any idea how it is for a man to have the object of his desire few feet away but constantly out of reach? To live with a permanent stomach ache because he felt he owes his life to that woman and walk around with a ubiquitous erection?
He wasn't proud of himself, nor he was some kind of perverted. He had zero control to the affection she had on him, poor man. That and the fact that he was alone for a very -and i mean VERY- long time.

Absurd as he was with certain thoughts, he stopped listening around the time of political news and picked up his book again.

Around the same time, she put her headphones on again and lost herself in the music.

Pity... because if they hadn't stopped watching, they would knew about the massive storm that was going to hit Boston in 24 hrs.

Later that evening, he talked to his sister over the phone. Of course she was mad at him because he managed to got himself in a situation like this. She made that clear enough when he called her from the airport three days ago. Even though, Claire pretended to listening to music, she actually had pushed the pause button trying to understand if he was talking to a girlfriend or maybe a wife.
She ended up knowing a name "Jenny" and something about children. Was he married and a father?
At some point, the switched to Gaelic and she couldn't understand a thing. She caught the word "Sassenach" and she knew they were talking about her.

 

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine, day 4

Have you got any idea how it is to be afraid of sleeping because your dreams are hunted by a beautifully made man without a face- who definitely wasn't your fiance- and was doing to you unspeakable things? And all those fucking dreams started three nights ago...
She could feel Fraser trying to gain her attention and other times trying to hide from her. She could practically hear the silent words that were hanging from his stupidly perfect mouth.

Torturing him by not talking to him was very entertaining for some time and the previous evening she thought of torturing him with the same way he had done to her.

Not a big fan of exercise herself she wore her most provocative shorts she had -the one she usually used for pajamas- and the only sport bra she possessed and had no idea how the bloody thing ended up in her suitcase.

Once in the gym, she left the door open on purpose and started yoga exercises or what she remembered of the two classes she had, months ago.
She knew he saw her and she put some extra effort to stretch her body or tip up her arse.

Poor man, he groan and took another shower- cold, she assumed- and then spend most of the night beating himself badly by lifting weights and running.

 

She had her fun,yes, but not anymore. People were dying everywhere and suddenly their stupid dispute seemed so insignificant.

 

He took off the headphones and surprised him.
He almost fell of the couch.

"Ok, Fraser. Talk! What is it you want to say?" Her tone was the one she used when she wanted to spook her students, especially those who believed she was too young and sweet to be afraid of.

 

He changed several shades of red before an understandable word could come out of his mouth.

"I.... I'm sorry.."

"Impressive start. I would exacting nothing less from a famous writer. For what you are sorry, Fraser?" She said mockingly.

"For everything, i guess."

She almost felt sorry for him. He looked like a boy who was caught with his fingers on a honeypot.
"No, stop thinking about fingers and honeypots, damn you" she reminded herself.

"Everything? That's not very specific, I'm afraid."

"I found that paper of yers, ye know." He snapped.
"I didn't steal it nor i had a name or an address to return it. I gave lots of money and i named you as the real author of that extract. And i just apologized for what happened. Is it not enough fer ye? What else do ye want? "

They both got up and approached each other menacingly. Only few inches between them to mark the thin line between war and peace.

"You almost destroyed my career. Your lawyer accused me for plagiarism and i almost lost my PhD, you bastard. "

"Not because of me! It was your publisher's greed ,ye ken.."

"You knew it was me who wrote that extract, though. Why you didn't say a word to your publisher or lawyer earlier? You know that you have done to me? Answer me, damn you?"

She was furious all right, but there was no comparison with his own situation.
She had a bloody Viking, tight features, shining eyes but their bright blue colour looked almost black, huge body and all, right infrond of her.
He could snap her body like a branch but she wasn't afraid at all.

"What i 've done to ye, ye say?Do ye know what you're doing to me? " And with that he grabbed her and glued her to his body almost violently. He was panting hard and let her feel his rapid heartbeat, all his body and every inch of his aching cock against her belly.

She slapped him hard and rushed to the bathroom. She didn't want to see him now. Or ever again...

"Jesus H Roosevelt Christ. You're a liar, Beauchamp." She said to her reflection on the mirror.

She had never felt more pissed, or upset, or turned on before. She was so wet and ready and the bloody man wanted her alright.
Was she capable of cheating on her fiance -whose name escaped her at the time? Was she?

Her practical mind told her that perhaps some sex..No, scratch that, a good fuck would calm the tension between them, along with her own tension because Frank -yes, Frank was his name- had not touched her for months. He claimed he had some sort of depression...

 

She took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.
She wanted to apologize for the slap and perhaps....

He wasn't there and the front door was open. Where the fuck did he go? She went to the window and realized it was raining heavily.

" Perhaps he is outside, waiting for me to sleep." She thought.
"Good for him." and frustrated as she was she
lay down to sleep....

Chapter Text

Rose St Boston
Quarantine, day 4

 

The digital clock on the nightstand answered to her unspoken question. It had been almost two hours since the bloody man left the house.
The thought that perhaps the police arrested him for breaking the quarantine was a bit pleasurable and he deserved it, for running out of the house, in the middle of the night only in his t-shirt and pajama bottoms. His phone was still on the coffee table, his jacket on the hanger and - for fucks sake- his shoes next to the door.

Then, she really started to worry because if the police hadn't found him and locked him in a psychiatric hospital, as he deserved , something might have happened to him.

She decided to wait an hour or so, before calling the authorities. On the other hand, how far he could go with that weather and without his fucking shoes?

"Oh, bloody hell." Claire exclaimed before she puts on her coat and shoes and goes out in the rain.

 

Honestly, his intention was to take a small walk around the block. To calm his nerves and to give Claire some time alone.
He was upset, to put it elegantly. He opened all his cards to Claire and she was offended. He had the red marks on his cheek to remind him. He had made a very bold move to an engaged woman. Yeah, he had seen the diamond ring all right, even though he preferred not to think about it.

He didn't mind the rain or the cold nor the lack of shoes. He was a Highlander born and raised but when he saw the patrol car, he realized he was also a Highlander without ID or his phone or a good excuse to be out.
So, he did the first logical thing that came to his mind. He tried to hide behind a parked car. Emphasis on "trying" because he slipped and twisted his ankle badly and he may have hit his head on the back door of the parked car.

The hiding part was successful, albeit by mistake, because the patrol car didn't spotted him and nobody knew about the unconscious Highlander on the sidewalk.

 

She almost gave up trying to find him. He was nowhere to be seen and she thought he had been arrested. In her way back home, under the dim street lights she spotted on the sidewalk a tangle of white and plaid, fifty feet away.
She ran there to find out that the tangle was indeed Fraser, soaked to the bone, unconscious, with a huge bump on his forehead which, quite coincidentally matched the puddle on the car door next to him.

 

She resisted the urge to kick him. She wanted him to be conscious for that.
She slapped him once again, in order to wake him up after making sure he was indeed alive.
He was dizzy, talking nonsense and not capable of walking by himself so, it took them almost fifteen minutes to get home which was sixty metres away.

Once safely inside she made him sit on a chair. She got rid of her wet coat and shoes and for a few seconds she hesitated about what to do next. He was unconscious again and white like a ghost.

"Oh, fuck it." she said to herself and started taking of his soaked clothes. She tried not to look down when she removed his boxers -not successfully- and she used much effort to put him to bed. His body needed warmth while his swollen ankle needed ice. What a bloody mess.
She took his foot off the blankets and put some ice on it. He must have felt it because he opened his eyes and smiled to her before closing them again for good, this time.

She increased the heat and checked him one more time before she lying on the couch.
That bloody piece of furniture was so uncomfortable. She could feel all the broken springs piercing her body. And he hadn't say a thing about it...

He moaned in his sleep and Claire got up from the couch and ran to him. Even though the room was like a furnace, he was shivering badly.

Her uncle Lamb had taught her the basic on surviving so, she didn't think of it twice. She took off her clothes and went under the covers with him. Body heat is a basic rule, after all.....

Chapter Text

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine, day 5.
3:46 in the morning.

 

He considered himself a good Christian. And as every good Christian, he had created a very vivid image of Paradise which was, you know... heavenly.
He couldn't describe exactly what he meant, or what he would see once he got there but he had one and only reference point. His mother's arms around him, embracing his small body protectively and himself to feel light as feather, careless and serene...

 

He couldn't wake up or move, nor did he want to. Despite the pain in his ankle, he felt wonderful to be in a cocoon of warmth and to be touched by smooth skin. He could feel himself smiling in his deep sleep.
So, he rightly believed that he had died and went to heaven.

 

London, 23:33 in the midnight.

 

Joe just ended up his exhausting shift. 14 hrs straight on his feet seeing one patient after another. That virus was a bitch. He lost 3 patients and he considered it as a "good" day.
He sat down on the parking lot to catch his breath and calm down a bit before returning home.
Inside a car, a couple kissing passionately. He wasn't an indiscreet man, far from it, but it was impossible to look elsewhere. You see, the man who was kissing the blonde inside the car was non other than Frank Randall, his best friend's fiance.

He took a picture of them-not to convince Claire, she would believe him no matter what- but to convince himself that he really saw what it was infrond of him and he wasn't delusional from the exhaustion.

He thought of sending it to Claire immediately but given the time difference, she would be probably asleep and it was awfully cruel to see... that, first thing in the morning.

The fucking little bastard,was cheating on Claire...

 

Rose St, Boston
4:49 in the morning...

No,no,no...he was sure he was in Heaven. He felt so good to be anywhere else. Then, why...?
Satyr had no place in Heaven, he knew that much.
But there he was, right in front of him, holding his huge cock and trying to catch a Nymph.

He knew he had died and he was okay with it, not that he had a choice on the matter, but thinking that he ended up in Hell, dead or not, he opened his eyes in protest.

 

He was in a strange room - not Laird's room in Lallybroch, for sure- and can you imagine? He was the Satyr and was holding his painfully big cock in hand while the Nymph's knee was dangerously close to it.
Oh, he knew that Nymph. She was coming in his dreams often. Other times she escaped as he chased her and others he managed to catch her and never complained after.

She always liked what he did to her and without thinking it to much -he was dreaming again, so no harm done - he started kissing the tender spot on her neck, touched her soft skin, the cotton of her underwear, the wet and velvet inside of it...
And before he knew it, she responded in her sleep and moaned and then still half-asleep kissed his lips, like the Nymph always did in his dreams.
She opened her legs slightly to give him better access and he buried two fingers in her liquid heat.
He was in heaven again but then she was fully awake.

 

"What the hell are you doing?"she yield to him and pulled away with his hand still in her.
He woke up alright then and clumsily pulled his hand away. He was pale as a ghost - she was furious.
Yeah, he wasn't dead but he was going to be, soon enough.

"Oh..Oh,God. I'm so sorry...I was dreaming and i wasn't ..oh,Dhia..."
He tried to get up but as soon as he found himself in a sitting position, he felt dizzy and fell back on his pillow.

Claire opened the lights but Jamie couldn't stand the light at all that moment and closed his eyes tightly.

She forgot that she wanted to kill him because on the one hand she was afraid the bloody Scot had suffered a concussion and on the other it was her idea to lay down with him to keep him warm. What she expected him to do. He made it perfectly clear the previous night that he wanted her and she played with fire. And damn, she wanted to get burned badly. The way he touched her....

 

She tried to forget the effect his... actions had on her but without success because of their current proximity and the wetness between her legs.

She succeeded though in forgetting that she was almost naked and practically climbed on him to check his eyes, as her uncle Lamb taught her and ignored his protests,of course.

No dilation, which was good. A concussion meant hospital and hospitals were chaos at the time.
No brain injury, but he was extremely hot to the touch. He was boiling with fever. He took his face between her hands and looked him straight in the eyes.

"You bloody bastard. What you were thinking, going out in the rain barefoot and with only your pajamas? To hit cars with your thick head?
There is no limit to your stupidity, is there?" She was mad and he found her adorable. He will always find her adorable.

"I guess not, Sassenach. I'm sorry ...I..It was all my fault...I guess i hit my head worst than the car."
He didn't knew if it was the fever of the heat of shame that was burning him alive.

"Please, don't talk. Just... forget it. I 'll go see if there is something for your fever around here."

 

She turned the place upside down and at the end she found some ibobrufen in a kitchen cabinet. He gave him one and a glass of water and helped him lay down again. Only then she realised she only wore her underwear and not her fancy ones. She took the blanket and tried to cover herself.

He looked at her and smiled. He knew the woman who wrote the story on that paper was the one for him, the love of his life and he was praying every night for her to be suitable for him and single.
When he found out that she was in fact suitable, it was also too late. She had only hate for him and after what he did to her minutes before, she would probably kill him and dispose his carcass in the garbage.

The quarantine, though, provided him a unique opportunity to explain himself and tell her how he felt and she had to stay and listen. She had no other choice.
The diamond ring on her hand was screaming to him that she belonged to another man and perhaps he would end up with a broken heart.
"Be brave,man. At least, you will stop dreaming." he said to himself.

 

"Sassenach, when i regain the functionality of my brain.." she raised her eyebrows at that and he pretended to be offended.
"Hey...!! i just want to talk to you, properly. I want to tell you everything. Will you listen without slap, kick or punch me?"

"No promises.." she answered but her eyes smiled even though she tried to keep her miserable poker face.

He was shivering again as the fever took all the strength he had and drifted to sleep while her heart melted at the sight. He looked like a sick and helpless baby.

 

Had she forgave him? For everything...
Was she afraid? Terribly...
Was she ashamed? Of course...
Did she wanted him? Fuck,yes....

Chapter Text

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine day 8

 

The sixth day was hard, with Jamie dowsing in and out of consciousness. He was delusional when he was awake and talked nonsense in his sleep. Therefore, only the fainted blue of his eyes made some difference between those two states. Oh, and the snoring,of course.

Claire considered herself a very calm and sensible person, always practical - sometimes in the verge of coldness but that time was out of her mind worried.
Had he hit his head worst than she thought?
Was the fever because he stayed in the rain for so long, or it was that fucking virus.
She was so worried that she didn't even noticed the storm which was getting stronger and stronger. In a normal rainy day she would stay by the window, coffee in hand, trying to predict when the next lighting will come. It was a time for calm and introspection.
But that wasn't a normal rainy day.

 

He was stubborn and hundred percent unaware of how weak he was. He refused Claire's help when the need to use the bathroom arose.
When he collapsed on the bathroom floor, trying to piss, she had enough. She called the Consul and told him about Fraser's current state.
Half an hour later, an ambulance came and three men in those alien uniforms stormed inside the house , making it look even smaller. They examined Jamie although he gave a good fight against it, confused as he was and at the end they took samples from both.

One of them, the doctor, injected him some antibiotics while the other two men were trying to keep the giant Scot from inserting the needle in the doctor's arse. He succeeded, by some miracle and left a bottle of meds with strict orders to give him one pill every 8 hours, no matter what.

 

And if the sixth day was hard, the seventh was worst.
She did not slept at all. The couch was a pure torture and she didn't want to disturb him by laying on the bed with him. He needed rest.
She was focused on waking him up to take his meds and eat a few spoonfuls of the soup she made. She wondered though, how much the food she made contributed to his crap.

Later that afternoon, she received two entirely different phone calls. The first was from the hospital. Neither Jamie or she were positive to the virus, thank God. And because of that, they recommend to take care of him at home. It wasn't safe, in his current state of health to be exposed to the virus. It could be lethal.
The doctor also wanted an update on Jamie's condition twice a day in case it gets worst.

The second call was from her old friend Joe. They talked for awhile about their current daily routine. He told her the basics about the chaos he lived every day, she told him everything about Jamie.
Joe knew the story of how his friend and Mr Fraser learned about each other's existence. He, once, offered to kill him and make it look like an accident. Thank God, she was sober enough not to accept his offer, tempting as it was.

She also needed her friend's advice badly, so, she thought she shocked him by telling him not only that Fraser -Jamie,that is - told her he wanted her loud and clear, but she felt the same and she was too ashamed of her feelings.
" Poor Frank..", she started but soon enough Joe cut her off and won the second round of "shocking news" game when he spilled the beans about her fiance and his heated encounter with the blonde. She also received a photo as proof, not that she needed one. Joe's word was more than enough.

 

She was a total mess, afterwards, tired and confused as she was.
She wasn't in love with Frank, she knew that much and to be honest she knew it for a long time. And if she continued to be honest, an admission that she always knew he was cheating on her was in order. A woman's instinct is infallible.

She drank a fair amount of whisky , half a bottle to be exact and drunk as she was, she took off his ring and placed it in the bottom of her suitcase. She didn't throw it in the toilet as she wanted. She wasn't that drunk. The damn thing could feed a small country for a month and Frank Randall she knew would never accept to take it back, so she could use the money after selling it for some charity.
She sent the damn picture to Frank, the emoji with the middle finger up, and blocked his number.

And now what?

Oh, she knew what. She was drunk, tired and cold and she had a huge bed with a very big and hot man on it.
A good night's sleep awaited her.

 

His fever broke in the early hours of the morning. Claire was snoring besides him and her breath smelled of whisky. He couldn't remember much but he could remember her taking care of him with tenderness...and some white creatures - aliens, most likely- who tried to abduct him.
No, no, no. He needed to focus on her. The darkness in the room covered his smile and his fingers that followed the sweet lines of her face without touching it.
With a permanent smile and a lightness in his heart he drifted back to sleep. She was there, with him...

 

Her mouth was dry and her head was spinning around. She felt dizzy but she also was in terrible need to use the bathroom. Vomiting was not her plan but it happened -inside the toilet,thank God.

"Sassenach, are you alright in there ? " Jamie asked her outside the bathroom door. If he knew anything well was the symptoms of hungover.

She washed her mouth and went outside to meet a pale and tired Scotsman.
He looked thinner but better. At least he was standing upwards.

"It's yer stomach? Have ye eat yer lovely soup, then?"

"Ha ha. Very funny, Fraser."
She wanted to appear as if she was mad but she sucked as an actress

"Don't ye think it's time to call each other with our first names... Claire?" He looked at her playfully.
Considered where he had his fingers few nights ago, he was right.

 

"What ever suits you... Jamie."

"Let me make ye breakfast. I don't know about ye, but I'm starving.

She was too, and also she always found the sight of a man cooking sexy as hell.
They ate some porridge and scrambled eggs in silence. She was too confused and he was too nervous to actually talk.

Cleaning the house and doing the laundry were their tasks for the day. Claire offered to do it by herself and let him rest.He, of course, was too stubborn to accept.
At least, she would go out to buy food and he didn't object to that.

When she came back and found the house empty she decided to kill Jamie Fraser after all.
He entered the house, few minutes later, silent like a thief and stood face to face with a very pissed woman.

"Where the hell have you been, you bloody Scot?"

"You came back early.." he said nervously and tried to maneuver around her so as not to see what he was hiding behind his back.

"You were boiling with fever for three days, you scared the hell out of me, and the moment i turned my back you sneak out of the house, damn you. And what on earth you have behind your back?" She demanded.

"No.. nothing.."

"Try again!"

He presented her then a small ceramic flower pot. The plant in that pot with the blue flower, the cause of everything that happened between them and everything that will happen in the future.

" There is a small flower shop, just around the corner. I...i saw it that night when i was out...and, well i...i knew i should get it. For ye..."

" I thought all stores are closed. How did you get it?"

" To my defense, i put some cash under their door for this wee thing, so, i didn't exactly steal it. Although i had to climb over their high fence.
I wanted to give it to ye and..."

He wasn't able to finish because her lips crushed on his and took his breath away. When they parted , both breathless, he was shivering and he had a particular look in his eyes.

"Please, Claire. Dinna do it if ye dinna mean it."

"Do what, Jamie?"

She brushed her fingernails up and down his forearms until goosebumps appeared on them and he had trouble breathing correctly.

"Lord have mercy..."

"The other night, you asked me if i know what I'm doing to you. I don't and i want you to show me. "
She was dead serious.

"Ye belong to another..."

"I belong to myself."

"Please, stop. I won't be able to control myself any longer." He was moments before he went mad, before the wild beast inside him cuts it's fetters.

" You want me or not?"

Enough is enough. He pushed himself on her and her back slammed on the wall.
He attacked to her delicate neck kissing and nipping. He found her sweet spot by pure instinct and she couldn't resist on crying out in pleasure.
His roaming hands grabbed her arse tightly and lifted her up. She locked her long legs around his body in an angle where his hard, stone-like cock was rubbing against her already soaked core.

 

Jamie found her lips and ravished them, leaving no doubt as to how much he wanted her. His hands were fondling her buttocks in a deliciously painful way and she found herself liking it a lot. So much different and so much better than the sterile way Frank made love.
Claire was a living flame, ready to burn and that moment she felt it. She was in good hands, in the right hands.

Claire unhooked her legs and the moment she touched the floor began to take off his clothes, almost tearing them from his body, until he stood in front of her completely naked, his magnificent body and his huge cock at her disposal.

He looked at her darkly and commanded her with a rough voice.

"Take off yer clothes, lie on the bed and open yer legs. Now..."

A wave of hot moisture ran between her legs as she obeyed his orders. Seductively she took off all her clothes and lie down. At the sight of her bare wet pussy his cock twitched.
She expected to entered her hard and she was thankful of her soaked core, otherwise he might hurt her. She closed her eyes waiting when the bed cracked under his big body but he surprised her.

"Open yer eyes,lass.Look down..." He ordered.

 

She did as he asked and she saw his red curls between her legs. Before she could say anything, he was already sucking her clit and his fingers inside her hot pussy fucking her routhlessly.

She was crying out his name in record time before she came on his warm mouth and his tongue licked her clean. She was in heaven and her body was light like a cloud in the sky.

She knew what he wanted. His cock was almost purple and ready to burst but for some reason he seemed hesitant.

"What is it, Jamie?"

"I don't have a condom. I 've been tested, I'm clean but..."

"Also clean and on the pill. Now, please, fuck me."
She was impatient to feel him, all of him.

 

He looked at her with an unreadable face.

"If ye think I'm going to fuck ye, ye're mistaken lass."

Claire was equally ashamed and confused. She thought he wanted her. He told her that much and he made her want him only to humiliate her. Yes, she was ashamed and exposed like never before. She desperately wanted to cover herself and go somewhere safe, away from him and the knowledge that she begged him to take her and he refused.

 

"I intend to make love to ye..."

 

She couldn't move or react simply because nobody told her such a thing before. He kissed her lips tenderly
and with a gentle move, if such a thing was possible for a man that big, he pushed himself inside her. It was an explosion of a kind that none of them had experienced before. Pure bliss.

With each thrust he was deeper, and her inner walls, swollen from her previous orgasm squeezed his cock in the most pleasurable way.
He had his lips on her's all the time, not wanting to miss the warmth of them.

He was close but he refused to finish without her, so he increased the speed of his thrusts and the power of them. He was holding her hands trapped in his own above her head as he entered her powerfully.

He had her panting in seconds as another orgasm washed over her body with powerful spasms and took Jamie with her in the oblivion. He poured his soul along with his seed deep inside her.

When they came down to earth, he lay down besides her and gathered her in his arms. He felt her body relaxing as she drifted into sleep.

"Poor love" thought Jamie, "she exhausted herself taking care of me."

When he was too angry, or in pain or in seventh heaven as he was that moment, English words failed him. Only the language of his ancestors could express what he felt- Sometimes he himself wondered how on earth he became such a successful writer - so, he spoke to her in Gaelic in her sleep, praying that her dreams will know the truth of his words.

"Tha gaol agam ort..."

Chapter Text

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine day 8.

 

And while our two lovers are sleeping glued together like magnet poles, i , having the ability to know what is going on inside their heads and being in a good mood right now, i decided to tell you and let them sleep.
Perhaps I'm a fairy,or a ghost.. Or just the story teller...

For poor Jamie, the man who fell in love with an unknown woman, just because of the words she had written, to keep her in his arms and know he served her well - all neighbors knew also- meant the world for him. A dream that became true.

For him, everything was simple. He kept himself for her for so much time. He almost forgot how a woman's touch felt like, despite his sister's efforts, because no one else was her.
He knew he loved her and only her and he had only six more days to make her love him back. Love-drunk he may be, but not a fool.

 

Claire's purposes were not so pure, unfortunately. Lust was what she felt for Jamie and anger for Frank "the fucking son of a bitch" Randall. And having sex with a man while the white mark of his ring was still in her hand, gave her the illusion of revenge.
That, before she realizesd that Jamie Fraser was not "a man". Before she felt the power, not of Jamie's body, but the power of his soul. She fell asleep almost immediately afterwards because she was exhausted and more relaxed than ever. A relaxation in which she had zero control.

 

She fought hard and bravely as far as her logic kept the reins of her mind. When she handed over the fortress to the subconscious, her dreams were flooded with red curls and blue eyes.
She was not a bad person. She just thought that she will be with Frank for the rest of her life. She wanted a home, a family. Stability and safety. Things she never had.
But that life was lost now...

Not an easy thing what she did. Not easy at all.
Pleasurable beyond words, but not easy.
She did it, though. If nothing else, the throbbing pain between her legs told her that much, even in her sleep.
It was the first time she had sex with someone else since she met Frank, many years ago. And before him she had very little experience with her first boyfriend.
She was a virgin back then, she wished she was again, after. Even though Frank was a skilful lover, soon after their relationship became serious, he lost his skills. Or he practiced them elsewhere. Depends of the point of view.
He always used condoms and demanded from Claire to take contraceptives.
Being university professors, respectable and such, to conceive a baby out of wedlock was unthinkable. And immediately after sex he went straight to the bathroom for a long shower. No cuddling, not sleep in the same bed. He made her feel dirty And...less.

 

Long story short, it was the first time in her life that she was so well ....loved.
Not fucked! Loved!
Because Jamie made love to her.
Everything, from the deep blue of his eyes to the tiniest and more insignificant hair of his body that touched her's, screamed to her silent words of love.
And she could hear them. And they were beautiful...

 

Hard thing to separate the truth from the dream when the fever has turned your brain to porridge.
After his abduction from the aliens he heard the Nymph talking to someone. Joe, he thought his name was.
He was not sure who Frank was or what he did to her and she unleashed her full mouth against him.
The absence of her diamond ring when his brain became solid again, filled the gaps.
Yes, he knew why she came to him and he fought to resist, but he couldn't. He simply couldn't deny her anything.
Perhaps it was just lust, frustration and stubbornness his feelings for her and a good fuck with the object of his desire could take her out of his system. He tried to convince himself as he pushed her to the wall and sucked her neck and all the blood of his body went to his cock.

It took him less than a moment after that to be sure that he was in fact doomed to love her for ever. Not just lust,or frustration or stubbornness. Just love..

He prayed before he slept, to be enough. To let him love her. He prayed with all his heart and she listened. She didn't knew it yet, but she did .

 

Oops, i think they are about to wake up. I must go. I don't want to think i spy on them. I have some dignity, you know.

Before i go, though, i want to tell you this.
When you're not sure what's the right path, something or someone will lighten it up for you. It's up to you to not have your eyes hermetically sealed.

Chapter Text

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine day 9

 

They slept as one, satisfied and worn out but, as it's normal, they woke up as the two separate and entirely different people they were.

Jamie woke up first once again with a terrible cockstand and Claire's bum dangerously close and, fuck, it was much harder now that he knew how it feels to be with her. In her...
If Claire was his wife or girlfriend or even a one night stand, perhaps he could ask her to help him with his painful erection but he had suspicions that Claire would regret their night together as soon as she woke up, even if it was her doing.
But Claire was neither of those. Not a wife, not a girlfriend, not even an occasional lover. She was just a woman pissed off with her fiance.

So, he ghosted a kiss on her curls and went to the bathroom for another ice-cold shower and then for some weight- lifting in a pointless attempt to tame his passion for the naked goddess on his bed. Well, technically her bed.

 

Claire woke up the moment Jamie left the bed. Funny how she missed something that never had. She enjoyed the loneliness of her bed and the all the space, or that was she told to herself all these years with Frank.
But, the truth was that she never slept better in her life. And also, she could use some of Fraser's qualifications that moment but he sneaked out of the bed like a thief.
Perhaps, it was a one-time thing for him. And if it was, he chose a very bad time to do it.
What they were supposed to do, now. Stuck in that tiny apartment for five and a half more days and pretending nothing happened?

 

Too much thinking for so early in the morning and her head was already aching.
She took advantage of the fact he was busy in the gym and after a two-minutes shower, she got dressed in no time. Before leaving, she left him a note. 4 words only..

 

"Went to the market" Jamie read. He shivered at the sight. God, those beautifully carved letters...
He remembered the endless nights he spent memorising every carve and detail of the letters on that paper with the story of the unforgettable love.

 

His sister told him he was a fool, or mad even. It wasn't normal, she told him, to be in love with a paper...
Because that fucking paper was in his bed every night instead of a living and breathing woman. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he was, in fact, crazy.
Nah... he knew he wasn't.
He had her in his arms, hours before and he was sure. He wished she was,too..

 

Jenny couldn't believe her own eyes when her brother text her days ago and told her who was his quarantine-partner. He sent her and a picture of Claire listening music with her headphones on, to convince her. Of course, his stubborn sister googled the name "Claire Beauchamp" and damn, it was actually her!!!

 

And speaking about Jenny...
Jamie finished his second shower for the day when he heard his phone ringing. Three missed calls from his sister meant only one thing. He was in trouble.
He called her back and put the speaker on, while was drying his hair with a towel.

"Where are ye, brother."

"Stuck in Boston. Quarantine, Corona-virous, remember?"

"Stop being a smart-ass. Are ye alone?"

"Aye. What's going on?"

"Yer lovely roommate isn't with ye, then ?"

"Nah, she went shopping. What is it, Jenny?"

"Oh, since ye're asking, it's Laoghaire..."

"Laoghaire? What about the lass?" He asked confused. The one he knew with that name was a much younger neighbor he had spoke once or twice.

"She claimed you promised to marry her, ye fool. She's outside our house since yesterday and refuse to leave. What did ye do, Jamie?"

"Ye're the one who kept telling me to do something with my life and i...."

"What? " Jenny demanded.

" 'Twas before i left for US, ye ken. She found me in Murtagh's pub and talked a bit. I had few drinks, to be honest, and when she asked me why i was still alone i told her that if I reach my 40s still single, i will marry her. I swear, it was a joke. Ask Murtagh who was there."

"And, to follow my advice, you promised to marry her when you ll be 40? That's yer idea of doing something with yer life?"

"Jenny, it was a joke." He said between clenched teeth.

"And ye got her pregnant with a joke, ye say? I'm impressed, brother."

"What?"

"Well, yes. Your...... fiancee came here yesterday and announced that she is going to bear yer child."

 

A noise from the door stopped the conversation between the siblings. Two heavy shopping bags had dropped from Claire's shaking hands to the floor.
The wine bottle broke, leaving a crimson pond on the tiles.

 

"So clumsy! Sorry for this!...And I think, congratulations are in order..."

She was pale, her lips were trembling but she stubbornly trying to keep a straight face and smile.

 

"Brother, are ye still there?"

 

"Jenny, i'll call ye back..."

 

........

Chapter Text

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine day 9.

 

"Did i sleep with Laoghaire?"

 

"What? I canna hear ye, lad. Speak louder." Answered a deep voice from the other side of the ocean.

 

"I canna speak louder,ye old fool. Remember that night at yer pub, before I left for US?"

"Aye, i do. What about it?"

"I need to know if I slept with Laoghaire?"

"And who ye think I am, lad? Yer cock's manager?"

"Murtagh, please, tell me what happened. The lass is at Lallybroch and refuses to leave claiming that I got her pregnant and promised her marriage."

"That ye did" said Murtagh, clearly enjoying his godson's frustration. "But not until ye're 40"

"Aye,i remember that, but what I'm asking is if Laoghaire and I...ye can...if we..?"

"What's wrong with ye and yer words, lad? And ye claim to be a writer...
Well, if ye got her pregnant, it didn't happened that night, I tell ye that. Old Mackenzie came to collect her and he wasn't very pleased.
As for ye, after i closed the pub i loaded yer useless body on my truck and left ye at yer door. Ian helped ye in."

"Oh, thank God, Murtagh. And i haven't seen the lass for more than a year before that night.".

"Aye,lad. If the lass is pregnant, which is doubtful, the bairn isn't yours."

No. If she was pregnant, Jamie was not the father. For a moment he thought that four years of abstention and Murtagh's strong whisky led him to her bed.
His godfather, though, didn't know that detail, mostly because Jamie couldn't stand the teasing. He didn't knew that he hadn't slept with no one for almost four years.

Now, he had to tell Jenny the news...

 

***

 

Locked in the small gym for hours, pretenting to do yoga, Claire was balanced between different emotions. One moment she was seeing red and wanted to kill him and the very next one she was crying all her tears.

How that was even possible? She felt nothing seeing Frank's mistress with her own eyes but her heart broke just for the knowledge that Jamie's- girlfriend was pregnant. Jamie, her ex-enemy, the man who shared only one night with him, the "soon to be daddy" Jamie...

That moment she realised that she wasn't alone in the room any more. A monster was with her..

Those who have seen that particular monster claimed that it has green eyes and the ability to distort reality, by putting before your eyes a prism of pain and doubt.
And after she recognised the monster, green was the only colour she could see.

 

After Murtagh's conformation it was a matter of minutes for Jenny to have Laoghaire's confession that she wasn't pregnant nor did Jamie ever touch her. It was all part of her stupid plan to make him her's, taking advantage of how drunk he was, infrond of her father and many other witnesses.
She wanted Jamie. Of course she did. He was a windfall. Young, handsome, rich and famous.

Jenny was half way through telling him how Laoghaire's father caught her by her hair and forced her to his car when the door of the gym opened and a very pissed woman came in the living room.

" I have to hang up. Talk to ye tomorrow, aye?"

He ended the call and looked at Claire.

"Sassenach.."

"Shut up. Not a fucking word." She commanded.

"But, i have to tell ye about Laoghaire..."

"No! I don't want to hear anything. Now, you will listen to me...
You played with me. That was your plan for the beginning. How much you hate me, Fraser? Tell me, you feel good now that you have taken revenge on me?"

 

"Am i allowed to speak,now?". He asked sarcastically.

"Talk, damn you"

" You talk about revenge and you are the one who invited me to your bed to pay back your cheating fiance. Tell me I'm wrong, if ye can. And how exactly did i take revenge on you? By stripping my soul in front of you and telling ye that i want ye?"

"No! By making me want you while you have a pregnant girlfriend in Scotland.That's how..."

Her eyes were burning and her lips were closed tightly. Her chin up stubbornly and her fists clenched against her hips. She was ready to attack him but he was smiling..

"What you laughing at, you bastard?"

"You said you want me..."

 

She was speechless and he found the chance to come closer and hold her tight. He fought him, she slapped him before he kissed her with all he had and she surrendered unable to do anything else.

"God, Claire...Ye want me..."

She looked almost ashamed.

"There is no one else, Sassenach. Just you. If you 'll have me.."

"That woman..." She said.

"I tried to tell ye but ye didn't let me. I haven't touched her and she is not pregnant,of course. She's obsessed with me, ye ken."

She tried to smile.

"It's up to you, now. You want me, Claire?"

Chapter Text

Rose St, Boston
Quarantine day 12

 

No, there is not missing chapters. It's just that they were in bed for almost 72 hrs...

 

Three days before...

 

"You want me, Claire?" Jamie asked again. Claire, though, seemed to forgot how to use her voice, which was rare, and with rare we mean that it never happened before. Some sort of disconnection between her brain and her tongue, she thought.

Jamie shook her slightly, a bit out of hope. A fear that maybe she was just mad at him and nothing more, conquered him.

And when a few words managed to come out of her mouth, she realised what her problem was. Her tongue was connected to the heart instead of the brain..

 

"Kiss me.." she finally said out of breath and his mouth formed a sly smile.

" Νo! Not until ye say what i want to hear. Say it, Sassenach..."

"Fuck! How is it possible a single word, and one intended for insult no less, to spread ripple and a wave of hot moisture between her legs?" she thought and tried to take from Jamie's lips what she wanted without words or explanations.
Fraser, though, was too stubborn to give in.

"No! Say it, damn ye. Say it.."

There was no escape,no way out. She was trapped between hard muscles and deep feelings. Feelings which were buried in the abyss for so long. It was all too much and she exploded.

"Yes, you bastard! I want you more than i ever wanted anything else in my life. Happy now?"

"Very..." He answered with an unrecognisable from the passion voice. And he attacked her. Literally..
First to her mouth and her neck like a starving man. His hands grabbed her arse in a possessive way. He riped her clothes from her body and then pure instinct took over, you know, the one that makes every male in this planet mark his territory. His, was Claire.

He wanted to make her understand she was his. To leave his seed and his scent , bruises and love-bites on her body for every other male out there to know she belongs to him.
But, It was the same for Claire and she fought with equal force. She bite his lips and tasted blood, she stuck het fingernails deed in his back and his arse, making him slam his cock deeper into her, deeper than anyone else.

They moaned and cursed and cried out eachother's name for all Boston to hear, there on the carpet next to the couch...

 

Sometime later, they moved to the bed looking like they came back from a battle. High in adrenaline, red and purple bruises everywhere, hair tangled and stupid smiles.

"Oh fuck, this stings!" Said Claire when her arse with the red carpet-burn touched the mattress.

"What? Let me see."

She turned around, her arse in its full glory for his eyes only.

"Ow... Poor love. Some people say that a kiss can make it better."

"I hope, for your own good. It's all your fault." she said as Jamie applied delicate kisses on her bruised skin.

 

He continued kissing her, up to her back and shoulders,then her neck and the corner of her mouth. He lay next to her and took her hand in his.

"Claire, i have a confession to make.." Even though he was afraid, it was no time for hesitation.

"You are from another planet! No, you're a serial killer! No, you're married and have 12 kids." She joked.

"No. Well,perhaps, the first one but please, let me tell you before i die for a heart attack and ye 'll never know..."

"Ok..i.."

 

"I love ye, Claire..." He rushed to say before he actually die from nervousness.

It was an absolute wonder how he managed to leave her speechless every time. A lot of people want to know how he did it, trust me...

He found some encouragement in her eyes and continued.

"I feel in love with you through your words, ye ken. I know, it's pathetic but it happened. I saw you, once, ye know from afar. Ye were a bit different. Perhaps that's why i didn't recognize ye when I first saw ye here. Then, with oversized clothes and glasses, no make up and your hair short, you looked ..."

"Like a nerd.." she completed his sentence.

"No" he laughed. " Fresh and innocent. Sweet... Although, i knew you had the mouth of a sailor. I hadn't pictured ye exactly like that when ye called me."

She remembered that call and she turned red from embarrassment.

"I was desperate then. My career was in danger, you know, if my dissertation turned out to be stolen. And i was mad because it was not true."

"I don't know. Perhaps i put your exact words in my book desperately trying to force you find me, since i couldn't find you. In the end you did but the situation was out of control."

"I have a picture of you." She said before she could stop herself.

"What? " He said surprised.

It was too late to take it back, so she told him.

"It was one from a magazine. You had long hair, then, a beard and less muscles. But there was something in your eyes... I don't know what exactly. I convinced myself that i kept you pictures all these years to never forget my enemy and what you almost cost me, but i kept looking at your eyes more times than i care to admit.
When i first came in here, you distracted me with your toned chest and your tiny towel and i lost my train of thoughts."

He smiled at that . "I was waiting the cleaning lady, and ye were so much different from the last and only time i saw ye. How could I ever imagine that fate will bring you in my life one fine day, no matter how much i prayed for it. I dinna dare to hope..
I want to thank ye, though.I am who i am because of ye, Sassenach." and he kissed her fingers that he held all that time.

"Well, then we are even. The money you gave made me who i am, so i believe i owe you for it.."

He put a finger on her lips to make her stop.

"No, Sassenach. I will be in yer debt for the rest of my life because i found ye and my life is complete now."

That was, by far, the most romantic thing someone told to her and the key to unlock her final secret.

"Jamie, i think i love you..."

 

Three days after that...

 

He had a full English breakfast that morning....
Straight from Claire's body. His new favourite thing was to buries his tongue in her pussy in every opportunity but to wake her up this way was the best. Not that he didn't like it to have her hot mouth around his cock. The first time she did that, he thought his heart will explode.

After her second orgasm, he replaced his tongue with his cock and another round of moaning and screaming from pleasure started.

When he lay down again and Claire found her voice she teased him about his stamina , only to receive a shocking answer.

"If you have lived for 4 years with the ghost of an unknown woman instead of a real one, you would have build your stamina, just fine."

"What? You mean ...you...Oh, my God! "

Jamie was afraid she might be think him a freak but she looked him deep in the eyes and changed her position to kiss him tenderly.

"I love you,you damn fool."

He smiled and kissed her back. His hands found his favourite spot on her arse and grabbed a good handful.

 

"Ouch..." She yelled.

"Oh, I'm sorry love. I forgot yer burn. Let me bring ye yer aloe cream."

Naked as he was, he went to the bathroom to find her cream. Instead of the cream, though, he reappeared in the room holding a small box.

"Sassenach, i think we have a small... problem."

Chapter Text

London United Kingdom
In a well-known parking lot.
In Boston it's the 14th day.

 

"Claire blocked my number." Frank announced without even saying hello to Joe. A very tired and sad Joe who lost a young patient, minutes before.
It became a "sick" routine between doctors and nurses after every shift the question "how many?"

The answer of the day was 16. In only one shift of just one hospital. So, Joe had every right to be tired, sad, mad even and to not want that kind of conversation with a drunk Frank Randall who was sitting on his brand new car.

"And what has that got to do with me?" Asked Joe and unlocked his car with Randall's arse still on it.

Frank ignored him completely an continued telling him his story.

"...so, i called her from her office at university. I knew she would never ignore a call from work. And guess what happened.. a drunk man answered her phone and told me Claire wasn't available that moment because her mouth was occupied and to call much later because he had a favour to return."

Joe wanted to laugh. Badly. At least, his friend had a very good time despite the quarantine.

"And,of course, i know it was you who send her that damn picture." Frank continued.
"You hurt her feelings, Abernathy."

Joe looked at Frank as if struck by a lightning.
"I hurt her feelings? You were the one who kissed that woman."

"My relationship with Sandy has an expiration date. You see, i was planning our wedding in three months. It was supposed to be a surprise. Sandy was my last act as a single man. An act that Claire did not have to know about." said Frank bitterly.

"One thing is sure, Frank. You surprised her, alright..As for if your relationship with that.. Sandy has an expiration date or not..."

"It has!" Frank interrupted him. "Just like her relationship with her quarantine fuck-buddy. Tell her that next time you talk to the bitch."

And with that, Frank jumped off the car and Joe found the opportunity to start the engine and speed the car.

He saw Frank from the mirror bending down to take something from the ground and throwing it to him. He heard the "bang" on his car roof and saw Frank fall forward.

He stopped the car and ran to the unconscious man. Then he made two phone calls.
The first to the hospital to inform them about the drunk man in the parking and the second -the most dangerous for his own life- to his wife, to inform her about the damage in their car....

 

Rose St, Boston
Last day of quarantine.

 

The apartment was empty by the time the landlord arrived. The keys were on the table and everything seemed to be in order, in addition of the blood stain on the carpet.
He received all the money from the British Consulate but he was not very pleased for the money he needed to spend on carpet cleaning, considering the fact that he was not going to rent the apartment any time soon.
He left a deep sigh and locked the door behind him.

 

Oops.... I think i forgot to tell you what happened before that....😇

 

So.... Three days before that..

 

"What kind of problem" Claire asked Jamie who was holding the box with her contraceptive pills.

"Well, i don't know if it's a big deal or not, but this expired four months ago."

Claire felt all of her blood leaving her body. She felt dizzy and nauseous at once.

"Oh my god, Jamie, I'm so sorry. I swear, i bought it three weeks ago in London. I had no idea, i never looked on the expiration date. I thought, they checked it at the pharmacy. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me..."

"Forgive you about what,lass?" Jamie asked confused. He found the idea of a baby of their own very amusing and not at all unpleasant.

Claire didn't answered. Her mind was on Frank and what he would have to tell her if he was there instead of Jamie.

"Hey, Claire? Love, what's going on?"

 

"It wasn't intentional, Jamie. You have to believe me. If I'm pregnant, i won't bother you. I..."

"Are ye...mad, woman? "

"What? No! " She answered instinctively.

"Yet, ye are. If ye're pregnant it is my fault too. Not that i believe a child would ever be a "fault". I 'll be honoured to be a father, mo chridhe. Even more a father of yer bairn. Our bairn..."

"You are? " Claire asked touched. She felt the need to be a mother, long ago but Frank...
"No! Fuck Frank" reminded herself.

"Of course i am." And came closer to take her in his arms.
"And you stop taking these. If ye're pregnant, can cause a damage to the bairn."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then, we make sure you will be, soon enough. If ye're willing, of course." He said with a cheeky smile.

"You are impossible, Jamie Fraser!"

"Yes, i've been told...! Now, i was intended to ask ye our last moment here, but i don't think i can wait any longer."
He went to his suitcase and took his wallet out. He opened a secure case and found what he was looking for.

He came closer and showed her a silver ring.

"It belonged to my mother and I have it always with me. Ye like it?"

"Oh, Jamie, it's beautiful." She answered.

"Ye can take it,if ye like. With one condition, though."

"What condition?"

"Ye 'll have to marry me."

"But, Jamie, i may not be pregnant ..."

"So what? I want ye Claire. No matter if you're pregnant or not. Will ye have me?"

"Yes,you damn fool. I 'll have you."and she kissed him passionately.

"I love ye, Sassenach.." he managed to say when he received enough oxygen again...

 

Two days after that...

 

Jamie had few glasses of whisky that night. Their last night in Boston. They were clear to leave the next day with all the British citizens.
Something was on his mind, that was for sure.
Claire wanted some whisky too, but Jamie didn't let her. Not until they know if she was pregnant or not.

She was worried about change his mind about the marriage proposal. She decided to be brave and ask him.

"Jamie, what is going on? Something is troubling you, i can see it."

"I don't want to wait, Claire. I don't want ye to think i proposed to ye because ye may be pregnant. "

"Jamie.."

"There is an auld custom which binds a man and a woman for a year and a day. Are ye willing to do it for me, Claire?"

"Are you sober enough or you will tell me tomorrow that I took advantage of your drunken state?"

"Never! Everyone knows ye're not drunk if ye can stand upwards" and he stood in front of her to prove his point.

"Ok,then. Let's do it..."

Her phone started ringing and when she checked the number she panicked. It was from her private office in the university. Her locked private office. The one only Frank and herself had keys for it. Oh, and the cleaner of the building who had no reason to call her. And she knew it was Frank who was calling her.

"Frank.." she whispered and Jamie half-angry, half- jealous and drunk enough took the phone and answered.

"Yes? "

"...May i speak to Claire Beauchamp, please." A posh English voice asked.

"Sorry,man. Claire is not available at the moment. Her mouth is occupied, if you take my meaning. Try much later because i want to return the favour, aye?" And closed the phone.

Then he realized what he did and looked at Claire for any sign of discomfort. She was looking at him with her face completely blank for a whole minute before she bursting into laughter.

 

"Oh, Claire. I thought ye are mad at me. So sorry.."

 

"Don't answer my phone again without my permission and ye are fine. Frank took what he deserves. Now, where were we? Oh, yes..I believe we were about to.."

"Handfast. Truly Claire? Ye want to do this for me?"

"Yes, Jamie."

"Do ye mind a bit of blood?"

"No,i suppose.."

After the handfasting, he called his sister.

"Jenny I'm coming home tomorrow. Prepare my room, will ye? And please make room for another one. Claire an i were handfast..."

Claire thought she heard something like "oh, thank God and hallelujah from Jenny but she wasn't sure.

"Mr Fraser, your conversation with Frank remind me how much you like it when my mouth is occupied. And you can return the favour immediately, my lad."

And they did. And they couldn't care less about the blood stain of their vows on the carpet.

Chapter Text

Lallybroch, Scotland.
Sometime in the future..

 

Jamie was alone. He needed time to prepare himself for what was about to happened. He wished Claire was there with him,to easy his fears and the anxiety he felt every single time, but that was impossible. Claire was gone and he couldn't do anything about it.

It was going to be a couple of very tiring days. First, the big presentation of his new book. Another successful novel by James Fraser, which would be making him richer and more famous than he already was. And, of course, his big wedding with Laoghaire Mackenzie. Three hundred guests and the press to look indiscriminately every detail.

How ended up with a lass he didn't care for? A lass who her only interest was on her big wedding plans, her dress, her shoes, her hair. Not necessarily her groom, though. He had a feeling,she only wanted someone to finance her dream wedding.
And Claire? Oh.. Claire. Only the small ceramic flower pot with a very weak plant, too weak to even bloom, was what was left of her. And the silver ring he gave her, a lifetime ago.

He turned 40 two months before , still single and he had to honour his promise to Laoghaire, he had to marry the lass.

 

He took a big breath. Like he was underwater for far too long and finally, back on the surface could breathe again. He took his phone and made the call. He knew he was risking his life by calling at 3:00 past midnight but he had to.

"Jamie, what is it?" A very sleepy voice answered from far away.

" Sorry. I just wanted to hear yer voice."

"Jamie, it's too late. Go back to sleep, please."

"I can't. I had a nightmare. I..."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, but i have to.."

"Well?"

"I was 40, still single and about to marry Laoghaire. Lallybroch was full of guests, i had a book presentation ahead ,Forget-me-not had no flowers at all and the ring is in my wallet again." He said anxiously and with only one breath.

"Hey hey, calm down. First of, you're 35. For the presentation you 'll have to finish your book first, so you have another six months, or so. If the plant has no flowers, take it away from the sun and some water from time to time, will help too,you know.
The ring is in your wallet again because you will need it for the ceremony. Because you're not going to marry Laoghaire. You are going to marry me, in three days, at Lallybroch, with a handful of close friends and family and a wedding reception at your godfather's pub.
And, if you're planning to be alive during the procedure, don't you dare to wake me up again that late in the night, unless..."

"Unless i want to make love to my beautiful wife, that late in the night.." Jamie said smiling.

"Unless our house is burning,i would say but your idea isn't bad ,either. " she laughed.

"Please, tell me you 'll be here for our wedding, Sassenach."

"I promise, Jamie. You're not going to get rid of me so easily, my lad."

"I don't want to get rid of you, my lass. Not now,not ever. Jenny would kill me. She is over the moon with joy, ye ken "

"So good that our upcoming wedding is making someone happy. Kiss her for me, will you?"

"I will, love. I will.."

"Now, go back to sleep. I have a very hard day ahead and i need to be concentrated. Good night, love."

 

"Good night, Sassenach."

 

----
"May i have your attention, please? This is the narrator speaking..

 

Claire was not pregnant. They were both equally disappointed and relieved. The idea of a baby brought smiles on their faces but also a fear about their new and fragile relationship.

Jamie's family took Claire in as if she was meant to be there all her life. And she found the big family she always wanted. The second floor of the manor became their home, with enough privacy and all the company they wanted.

Frank ended up with a black eye when he called Claire a "cold English bitch" and blamed her for his "need" for another woman. It was the last time they saw each other because few things have indeed an expiration date.

University of Edinburgh won a very talented new professor. One who shared her life between classes and the new greenhouse she built in Lallybroch to grow rare herbs.

Jamie started writing his new book two months prior to the marriage proposal to Claire. The official one because in they hearts they were already married.

She wanted something small and simple and so was he. Jenny, on the other hand, the official wedding planner, had other ideas. That's why Claire was away at a spa in Glasgow, relaxing and getting ready for her big day. And she had indeed a hard day ahead because her dear sister-in-law, definitely wanting to give her brother a heart attack, arranged for Claire a full Brazilian waxing.

Jenny wanted to give Claire a heart attack also because she ordered her younger brother to wear his kilt for the ceremony. And he did. And Claire was stunned. How was even possible a woollen piece of fabric to make her so... eager, to put it delicately. Horny is the proper word but we are in a church, before a priest and i have to behave...You know me, after all..

Claire, looking like a dream in white began to cry when she spotted some well-known tiny blue flowers among the white roses of her bouquet. She knew their meaning very well and why Jamie wanted to have them when they were going to be one soul, one heart and one body infrond of God and humans.

They shared their first kiss as man and wife in cheers and applause from friends and family. Right before everyone went to the pub, where Murtagh had prepared the reception in a "traditional Scottish way" as he said, Jamie took a pearl necklace from his sporran and passed it around Claire's neck.

"Its Scottish pearls. They belonged to my mother and now belong to my wife. Very precious for me. Like you, Claire." And he kissed her again.

But Claire has the last word...of course. Her wedding dress was simple, elegant and apparently practical because it had pockets. She took off a small white envelope from the left one and gave it to Jamie who looked at her confused.

"What's this?" He asked.

"Your divorce" someone yelled and everyone started laughing.

Jamie, though, openly cried when he saw the content of the envelope.

"Jamie, lad, what is going on?" asked Murtagh and everyone stopped what they were saying. Only Joe had a small smile on his face because he knew. He gave Claire the envelope in the first place.

Jamie answered his godfather laughing and crying at the same time. His blue eyes lost deep in the amber sea of hers.

 

"There are three of us, now.."

 

Of course, our couple received many wedding gifts. Some beautiful, some ugly and some...odd.
By far, the oddest was a big package from Boston. It contained a beige carpet with a blood stain and a little note.
"It's impossible to clean this up. You did it, you keep it."

And they did. For all their life and the next one.

 

The end...