Jamie Hope


“For Benn, Seguin and, indeed, the entire Dallas Stars franchise, things will never be the same, the trade creating something that is, like some sort of long forgotten chemistry lesson, greater than the sum of the two parts and, at the risk of entering into flat-out hyperbole, creating something that often approaches the magical.”

hockeyeditexchange2k16 for @mattmarns

I need more hockey blogs to follow so please reblog if you’re a hockey blog!
Doesn’t even have to be all about hockey; if you make occasional hockey posts/reblogs here and there,that’s fine

Briste | Chapter 13

Briste | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12

He was going to kiss me.

I could see it in his eyes, lust, passion, desire… it was all there everything I had been aching for, been yearning for was right there.

“Stop.” I whispered gently laying my hand on his chest. I could feel his rapid breathing and thundering heartbeat under my palm. My eyes transfixed on my hand, refusing to see the hurt that was sure to be in his eyes.

“Alright. I’ll wait.” Came his breathy, hoarse whisper. His voice so deep it sent chills down my spine.

I chanced a glance at this face, surely he was joking. He had to be angry, I just denied him… they always get angry when denied.

“Really?” I asked in amazement, not seeing any anger but still the same passion and desire. He intertwined my hand with his, laying it back against his chest while pulling me forward. The backs of our hands touching the other’s heart.

A quirk of his lips pulled them into a side smile. “Aye, I’ll wait for ye Claire. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Ye ken I’ll no be your patient forever, and when that day comes,” he bent down kissing my hand. “I’ll be here a dozen flowers in my hand, and walking on my own two feet asking ye to be mine.”

My cheeks filled with color as his statement sunk in.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be out of your bed for too long. You’re going to drive the nurses into a tizzy.” I tried to diffuse the current mood, the sexual tension was thick in the air, my own mind questioning why I wasn’t following my gut and letting him kiss me.

“Aye, suppose ye are right.” Jamie nodded, then began to hobble back out the door.

I let out a breathing looking at the ceiling. “You’re a bloody fool Beauchamp.”

We were silent on the walk back to his room. What should have been a short walk, turned into a laborious adventure for both of us. Neither fully healed, hobbling and shaking down the hall, unable to move quick enough out of the random running personnel.

M'aingeal, bidh thu leig dhomh gaol agam ort?” Jamie whispered pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear as we stood outside his door.

I started to shake my head, words fumbling. “I-I don’t know what you said!”

Jamie only smiled and kept his hand on the side of my face. “Dinna fash yerself over it. Good night, Doctor Beauchamp.”

Gone was his playful and desire-filled tone, in it’s place was the quiet reluctance of professionalism.

“Good night, Jamie.” I managed to say just as the door clicked shut.

The hall felt too large, yet too small simultaneously. I couldn’t breathe.

My heart ached and my head warred with my thoughts.

He was perfect. He was a patient. He wanted me. No one ever wants me. He makes me feel different, worthy. No one will ever accept me.

Over and over, the cycle of confidence and doubt turned over until I couldn’t take it any longer. Still in scrubs I ran from the hospital. My bag, keys, phone, everything still locked safely away in my locker. Legs burning, hip screaming in pain, I pushed on. I felt the bandages Mrs. Fitz so carefully attached begin to slip from my legs. The scabs on my knees begin to crack and bleed once again, but it didn’t matter. I needed air. I needed to be able to breathe.

Tears blurring my vision, I stumbled and caught myself before falling onto the pavement making my way to a bench at the edge of the block.

All the emotions I had been fighting for weeks came to the surface, no longer were tears only clouding my vision, now they ran freely in unending streams down my face. Why was he so nice to me? How could he want to kiss me and why did I want to kiss him back?

I don’t know how long I sat on that bench two blocks from the hospital. My body chilled as rain drizzled down.

“Claire?” A voice called, I didn’t look in it’s direction.

“Claire!” Warm hands gripped my shoulders, slightly shaking me. “What are you doing out here? Where’s your coat? Jesus! You’re freezing!”

Joe Abernathy pulled me from my spot on the bench, my mind and body still numb. Speech not coming easily.

“You need to get back inside, when Marcus told me he saw you running out of the building like a bat outta hell I had to come look for you! What has gotten into you?”

I shook my head, a frown pulling deeper on my face. “I can’t go back. I’ve broken the rules. He can’t.. I can’t… please don’t make me. I don’t have the will to stay away. I can’t lose this job. I can’t lose him. Please Joe… I…”

I rambled and sobbed as Joe pulled his coat tighter around me, throwing his arm around my shoulders then guided me back to the hospital.

“Who are you trying to run away from? Is it the man that hurt you? I’m still not convinced it was as you said, and just a running accident.”

I shook my head at his words. “No one hurt me! I did this to myself, granted not intentionally, but I did not get beat! I wish people would stop assuming that!”

“That was the most coherent sentence I’ve gotten from you all day.” He laughed jovially, squeezing my shoulder. I snorted.

“I can’t lose my job Joe, but I can’t be around Ja–Mr. Fraser.” I stopped walking and turned to look at Joe’s face. “I’ll break every vow I’ve ever made as a physician if I continue to be one of his primary care doctors. I can’t do it. It’s become…personal. He means too much to me and I can’t lose him, but I can’t lose this job either.”

Joe smiled and nodded with a sigh, “I figured this would happen. You’re all the man talks about when I go to see him. Keeps calling you m'aingeal, and I can’t get anyone in this damned place to tell me what it means. They simply smile and have a lovesick look on their faces so I’m going to guess it’s an endearment.”

I felt my chin wobble with the tears that were threatening to fall from my eyes.

“He—” I cleared my throat, “he’s called me that before. Right before I ran out of the hospital actually.”

Joe smiled jovially. “Ha! See! You won’t be losing that boy, I can guarantee that! Now, come on. You need to get dry and warm. I’ll make sure, if it’s the last thing I do that you will not only keep your job, but you will get to keep your…unprofessional relationship with the young Mr. Fraser.” He winked and pulled me back inside. Back to the warmth, pain, brutal politics, sadness, and overwhelming joy that will hopefully shape my future for the better.

You wandered onto the bunker set, surprised to see Jared sat at the table, looking at something on Sam’s laptop.

“Honey, I’m home!” you called, teasingly.

He looked up, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Oh yes you are,” he grinned, nodding you over. “Come here, you sexy thing.”

You grinned back, practically skipping over to him and flopping down in his lap.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked, noticing that he was actually using the computer rather than just staring at Sam’s home screen.

“Holiday cabins,” he admitted, kissing your cheek. “We get winter vacation soon. How do you feel about skiing?”

“Just us?” you asked, looking at the cabin he’d been thinking about.

“Just us,” he clarified, kissing you softly again, this time on the lips. “Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” you grinned as Jensen walked onto set in his Dean attire.

“Okay, enough of that, we’re filming soon.”

You laughed, getting off of Jared’s lap and giving him one last kiss.

“Be good,” you told them both, walking off set towards where you were supposed to be, in hair and make up.

“You ask about skiing?” Jensen asked, and Jared nodded.

“The plan’s going ahead,” he smiled, and Jensen patted him on the shoulder.

“Can’t believe you’re going to get engaged,” he grinned, and Jared bit his lip, nodding.

“Here’s hoping she says yes.”

Jensen scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“She’s not an idiot, Jared,” he reminded his friend. “Of course she’ll say yes.”

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Jamie & Claire + snow

An Interesting Night Out

@gotham-ruaidh asked: May we please see a small story where a modern Jamie and Claire are out to dinner and realize a truly terrible date is going on at the table next to them? 😘😘

An ask from the Queen herself! I’m honored to write something for you!! I hope you like it!

Jamie helped Claire from the car and they headed into the restaurant.

“I’m looking forward to a night out,” she said. “And having you to myself for an hour or two.”

“Och,” he said, giving her a flat look. “Ye have me to yourself every night, Sassenach.”

“But most of that is unconscious, so it doesn’t count. You’ve been busy with the estate.”

“Aye, we have. The fire at one of the tenant’s houses set us back a wee bit, but we’ll be alright. Dinna fash.”

She smiled and followed the hostess to their table.

They were on a nice date, nothing too fancy, just some time for them to be alone together. She was right, of course. They hadn’t been together as much as they used to be in the last few weeks. One of the tenant’s houses had caught fire and burnt down, so he and Ian had been working nonstop to get everything fixed. So Jamie had promised Claire a night out to thank her for being understanding.

After ordering a nice wine, they talked quietly about any problems at the estate. Claire told him about her friends at the hospital and about some of her favorite patients. It was quite a lovely evening. 

Until the pair at the table beside them began to argue.

“No,” the blonde woman said a little too loud. “I will not shh!”

“Anne, please darling.”

“No, don’t you ‘please darling’ me, Grant.”

“Please,” Grant whispered.

Claire glanced over at them and back at Jamie, her brows raised. Jamie did his best to ignore the couple.

“So Jenny invited us to the big house for dinner next week,” he said after taking a sip of his wine.

“Has she? I think our vegetable garden is going well enough that we can bring something over.”


Claire bit down on her lips as her eyes went wide.

“Please, Anne! Hush!”

“You’re expecting me to pay for all this?! I paid last time!”

“I’ll pay you when we get home!”

“Fine. But we’re going to have a talk about this, Grant.”

“I know we are.”

Claire snorted and he shot her a ‘do not laugh out loud’ look. Grant at the other table stood, but was clumsy. He kicked his own chair backwards and it clattered to the floor, making every eye turn to him. In his effort to keep the chair upright, he knocked over the last of his red wine, which broke the glass and splashed the liquid everywhere. 

Including down the front of Anne’s pink satin dress.

The woman was furious while her partner turned a deep red, eyes hunting for the exit. They left in a huff, Anne beginning to yell at Grant before they even got outside.

“Well at least we’ve never done that,” Claire said when the drama was gone.

“Aye, we havena had a date go that poorly before.”

“Oh I believe you’re forgetting something,” she laughed, finishing her own wine.

He looked up at her in surprise. He could never remember any of their dates going poorly.

“And what is it that I’m forgetting?”

“The day you took me out for a nature walk. Only your little car got a flat tire. But we were almost there, so we walked. It was nice, until it started raining. Both of our mobile’s died, so we couldn’t get a ride.”

“I remember that day verra differently, Sassenach.”

“Do tell.”

He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath, remembering.

“Aye, my car got a flat. And it wasne on purpose either. But it meant I got to walk wi’ ye and hold your hand. We talked a lot that day. Real talk, the deep things ye dinna share wi’ just anyone.”

“You make getting a flat tire sound awfully romantic.”

He frowned at her.

“Hush, yer interrupting the story. Anyway. When it began to rain, ye told me the things that scairt ye. How your Englishman broke your heart, how much ye wished that ye had yer mam around, how afraid ye were for how strongly ye felt for me.”

“It still frightens me, how strongly I feel.”

Reaching across the table, he took her hand in his own and traced her silver ring.

“And we’re engaged to be marriet.”

“I’m still scared.”

“I ken ye are, and yet ye trust me anyway.”

“Because I love you.”

“That day was the first time ye said that to me.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

“It was. But I’d known it for a long time by then.”

“But ye were brave enough to tell me that, standing in the pouring rain. Yer hair plastered to yer head. That shirt ye wore soaked through.”

“And you thought I didn’t see you staring.”

“I just wondered why ye’d gone out on a date wi’out any underthings on.”

“You couldn’t see through my trousers!”

He shrugged.

“Weel, I assumed if ye werena wearing a bra, ye’d have no knickers either.”

Much to his pleasure, her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink.

“Well I’d thought maybe our date would go a bit further than a chaste kiss. I hadn’t realized you were so old fashioned.”

“Aye, I ken it isna your first choice. But I thank ye for understanding it.”

“I’ve waited this long, I can wait a few more weeks.”

“I think that was the first time I regretted choosing to wait,” he said absently, looking at the dress she’d worn for the night.

Her smile got wider.

“You’ve regretted it more than once?”

“Anytime I see your lovely round arse pressed tight against whatever you’re wearing.”

She took a deep breath, still smiling at him.

“So what of our walk home? How will you make that into a romantic tale?”

“Weel that wasna romantic at the time, ken. But ye wore my coat, to preserve your modesty of course.”

“Of course.”

“But when ye gave me the coat back, it smelt of you.”

“You never told me that.”

“I wore that coat everywhere, just to keep ye wi’ me.”

The server came and asked if they’d like dessert. When they both declined, he left to get their check.

“After hearing all of that you have me regretting your choice to be old fashioned too,” she said quietly.

“Weel, I have to agree wi’ ye there, mo nighean donn. Recalling ye in that wet shirt… Christ it’s a wonder I didna take ye to the ground then and there.”

After he’d paid for their dinner, he took her hand and they walked back out to the car.

“Perhaps, after we’re married, we can recreate that a bit?”

“Oh aye, I think we could make that happen.”


He stopped with the passenger door open.


“I love you.”

Just as with each time she said those words to him, heat rushed through his veins like fire. His blood boiled and rushed out of his head and down, but he forced those feelings away.

“And I love you, mo chridhe. Always.”

“It won’t be long now,” she said, sliding into the seat. “Until you’re mine.”

“I already am.”