claire murray

“Oh, aye.” Jamie looked consideringly at his nephew. “I suppose ye can lay a pallet in my room.”

“Oh, no!” Young Ian blurted. “You’ll want to be alone wi’ your wife, will ye not, Uncle?”

“What?” Jamie stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“Well, I mean…” Young Ian hesitated, glancing at me, and then hastily away. “I mean, nay doubt you’ll be wanting to… er… mmphm?” A Highlander born, he managed to infuse this last noise with an amazing wealth of implied indelicacy.
Jamie rubbed his knuckles hard across his upper lip.

“Well, that’s verra thoughtful of ye, Ian,” he said. His voice quivered slightly with the effort of not laughing. “And I’m flattered that ye have such a high opinion of my virility as to think I’m capable of anything but sleeping in bed after a day like this. But I think perhaps I can forgo the satisfaction of my carnal desires for one night — fond as I am of your auntie,” he added, giving me a faint grin.


Honey Works Just As Well

@lynnialljohnson asked: Loved the latest Ian and Jenny. I think its about time Claire learned something naughty from Jenny! Maybe using a bit of honey to make things sweeter? ;)

Weel! I loved this. So so much. This is a canon divergence where Wentworth didn’t happen and Jamie’s pardon came through. Hope you like it darling!

I walked around the garden, observing the growth of my herbs. They were doing well, I thought. Wiping the dirt off my hands onto my skirts, I turned to the house. I stopped when I heard voices.

“Ian, Come and sit a while. I can see from here how much yer leg pains ye.”

“Ach, dinna fash, Jenny. I’ll be fine.”

“Sit. Down.”

I heard him groan and ease himself onto something. I felt like an intruder, listening to them this way, but these tender moments with Jenny were rare. And I had it on good authority that Jenny herself had observed some of my own interactions with Jamie. Turnabout was fair play, after all.

“Mo maise,” Ian whispered. “Mo ghaol.”

I wandered around the corner, careful to keep out of sight. Ian sat on a wooden bench, his peg leg stretched out to one side. Jenny stood in front of him, looking down at him with a fondness that brought tears to my eyes. No matter how prickly she might be toward me, she loved Ian as deeply as I loved Jamie.

“I wish ye wouldna work so hard, mo luaidh.”

“Aye, I ken that. It’ll be easier now wi’ Jamie and his wife here.”

Jenny’s eyes rolled.

“That wee trollop hasne run a house afore.”


“Aye, Jamie loves her, only God kens why.”

“Janet Murray, that is no way to speak of your good sister.”

Ian’s arms wove around Jenny’s waist, pulling her closer to him. The fondness and adoration in his own eyes was just as deep as hers.

“Ian, ye’ve gone soft. Why the hell would he marry an Englishwoman? After how they’ve treated us?”

“Oh ye just dinna like another woman having power o’er him. And ye can see clear as day that he’d lay down his life for her.”

“Aye… He would.”

“He’s happy, mo nighean dubh. Try and be happy too?”

Jenny’s lips pursed, but she nodded.

“I say again, ye’ve gone soft, Ian Murray.”

“Not all soft,” he said, his mouth pulling into a wolfish smile.

“Oh? Aye, ye’ve a head as hard as Jamie’s.”

I felt my own cheeks flush when Ian’s hands slid down to squeeze Jenny’s backside.

“Ian! What are ye doing?!”

“Fondling my wife’s sweet arse, what does it look like?”

“Here?! Wi’ yer leg hurtin’ ye?”

Ian’s smile grew.

“Ye’ve always taken such great care of me, Jenny. Making me walk again because ye’re so damned stubborn. And look at all the bairns ye’ve given me. I have loved ye all my life, Janet. Coming home to ye takes the pain out of my leg every time.”

“Weel,” she said, brushing hastily at the moisture on her cheeks. “When ye put it like that.”

“Come here, my love,” Ian said, his hands drifting even lower.

I ducked away quickly, not needing to witness what came after such declarations. Without thinking, I went in search of my own husband. 

I’d only told him that I loved him the night before, something I hadn’t expected to say to him. Words of affection weren’t things that came naturally to me, but I could make an effort.

The first place I looked for him was the stable. I found Rabbie putting fresh feed in the stalls.

“Rabbie, have you seen Jamie?”

“Aye, he’s out at the miss, mistress.”

“Has the wheel stopped working again?”

“Aye, mistress. The laird said he’d get it working in no time.”

“Thank you.”

The lad smiled at me and I picked up my skirts to hike out to the mill.

His coat, sporran, and sword belt hung on a peg by the door. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, his broad shoulders flexing as he worked on the wheel. I watched how his kilt swung around his legs, perfectly pleated as always.

He turned around after a moment, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Sassenach! I didna expect to see ye out here.”

“I finished with my planting a little early.”

“Aye? Did Jenny leave ye enough space?”

“Oh plenty. Thank you. It feels good to be working with plants again.”

His smile radiated at me from the darkness of the mill.

“Good! I kent ye’d feel at home here. I’m glad Jenny hasne scart ye off yet.”

“This isn’t my home,” I said, walking toward him.

His face fell and he looked at the ground nodding.

“I ken it isna an easy life, here; that ye’ve things ye miss from your own time. I just thought… Maybe… If I loved ye enough, ye might not miss it s’much.”

I put my hand on his chest, just over his steadily beating heart.

“This place isn’t my home because you are my home, mo ghaol.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment before his smile returned.

“Was that the Gàidhlig?”

“An attempt at it, at least.”

“And where did ye learn that one?”

“Well… You’ve said it. But I heard Ian say it to Jenny.”

He looked happier now.

“We really need to work on your Gàidhlig.”

I took his hands, which had wound around my waist, and placed them on my stomach.

“Perhaps you can teach us.”

He frowned down at me.


“Well me and… our baby.

His eyes went wide as he looked between my face and my stomach.

“A… A… A bairn?”

“Yes. Jamie, I’m pregnant.”

“But ye said…”

“I thought, but…”

“A bairn!”

“We’re going to have a baby!”


“I can’t believe how happy I am!”

He picked me up and swung me around in circles. When he set me back on my feet, he crushed me against the wall with a heated kiss.

“Wait,” he said, pulling back so suddenly I nearly fell.


“Is it… Is it safe? Wi’ the bairn?”

“Is what safe?”

“If we… Ah… Ye ken.”

His hips nudged mine, unconsciously I thought, and I felt the stiffness beneath his kilt.

“Oh yes. It’s hardly bigger than the head of a nail right now.”

“But it’s growing? You’re sure?”

“Yes, I am. My cycle is very regular and I should have bled a few days ago. It’s really happening.”

My bodice sprang open and his hands moved up my torso.

“I thought these were a wee bit larger than usual.”


“More sensitive too.”

His mouth found mine while his hands continued to play with my breasts. I was pressed hard against the wall of the mill, his body nearly trembling beneath my hands.

“Jamie,” I very nearly moaned.

“Aye?” he asked, breathing hard.

I held his face between my hands and looked in straight in the eye.

“I love you.”

“I canna tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear ye say that.”

“I said it just last night, didn’t I?”

“Oh aye, ye did. And it sounds just as good today as it did then.”

He fumbled for a minute with his kilt and my dress until we connected. Both of his eyes closed slowly, his mouth slightly open. I couldn’t resist my urge to kiss him, smiling a little at the sound he made.

“Did you fix the mill?” I asked.

“Why do ye care about the mill just now?” he asked, grinding against me roughly.

“I just don’t want someone walking in on us.”

“Sometimes I think ye talk too much, Sassenach.”

Just as I opened my mouth to complain, he stole it. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been quite so excited. His body was practically vibrating while he took me, his breath hot on my neck. I surrendered to it, to him.

We hit a soft conclusion together, neither of us needing more than that. He held me to the wall still, both of us breathing heavily from our exertions. But he was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes glittering with joy.

“I can scarcely believe it, Sassenach. A bairn of our own.”

“I can’t believe it either. I think you’re going to be a brilliant father.”

If it was possible, his smile got wider.

“Aye. And I ken the sort of mother you’ll be, my own. You’ll be brilliant as well.”

“Laird? Laird, I’ve the man who can fix the mill here. Are ye still here, laird?”

Jamie groaned and stepped back, helping me shake my skirts back into place. He eyed my open bodice and hastily rushed to the door while I tied myself back up.

“Aye, I’m here. I havena got it working just yet. Something’s still stuck, I think.”

“Aye, I’ll just take a look inside and-”

“No, I think something’s stuck in the wheel again. I’ve just checked inside. Verra weel, I assure ye.”

I bit back my giggle and waited for Jamie to come back. While the other men inspected the mill on the outside, he ducked back in.

“Ye best go now, Sassenach, or I’m like to take ye again. Just thinking of ye breeding wi’ my child… Christ I can hardly take it.”

“Well I’ll leave you to your work then. Perhaps we can talk about this again later?”

“Oh aye. We’ll have to tell Jenny and Ian. They’ll be verra pleased.”

“I’m sure. I’ll see you at dinner then.”

“He went on loving her”

The rage that had filled her drained suddenly away, and Brianna leaned forward, resting her weight on the palms of her hands, the necklace hard and lumpy under her hand. Her hair had come loose, and a thick strand fell over her face. 

Her eyes were closed against the dizziness that threatened to engulf her; she felt, rather than saw, the hand that touched her and tenderly smoothed the locks back from her face. 

“He went on loving her,” she whispered, as much to herself as to anyone else. “He didn’t forget her.” 

“Of course he didna forget her.” She opened her eyes to see Ian’s long face and kind brown eyes six inches away. A broad work-worn hand rested on hers, warm and hard, a hand even larger than her own. 

“Neither did we,” he said.

-Drums of Autumn


“Jamie?” The voice sounded rather startled. Despite the fact that I had not heard it in twenty years, I recognized it at once. Rolling over, I surreptitiously lifted a corner of the quilt and peeked out beneath it.

“Well, of course it’s me,” Jamie was saying, rather testily. “Have ye no got eyes, man?” He pulled his brother-in-law, Ian, into the room and shut the door.

“I see well enough it’s you,” Ian said, with a note of sharpness. “I just didna ken whether to believe my eyes!” His smooth brown hair showed threads of gray, and his face bore the lines of a good many years’ hard work. But Joe Abernathy had been right; with his first words, the new vision merged with the old, and this was the Ian Murray I had known before.

“I came here because the lad at the printshop said ye’d no been there last night, and this was the address Jenny sends your letters to,” he was saying. He looked round the room with wide, suspicious eyes, as though expecting something to leap out from behind the armoire. Then his gaze flicked back to his brother-in-law, who was making a perfunctory effort to secure his makeshift loincloth.

“I never thought to find ye in a kittle-hoosie, Jamie!” he said. “I wasna sure, when the…the lady answered the door downstairs, but then—”

“It’s no what ye think, Ian,” Jamie said shortly.

“Oh, it’s not, aye? And Jenny worrying that ye’d make yourself ill, living without a woman so long!” Ian snorted. “I’ll tell her she needna concern herself wi’ your welfare. And where’s my son, then, down the hall with another o’ the harlots?”

“Your son?” Jamie’s surprise was evident. “Which one?”

Ian stared at Jamie, the anger on his long, half-homely face fading into alarm.

“Ye havena got him? Wee Ian’s not here?”

“Young Ian? Christ, man, d’ye think I’d bring a fourteen-year-old lad into a brothel?”

Ian opened his mouth, then shut it, and sat down on the stool.

“Tell ye the truth, Jamie, I canna say what ye’d do anymore,” he said levelly. He looked up at his brother-in-law, jaw set. “Once I could. But not now.”

“And what the hell d’ye mean by that?” I could see the angry flush rising in Jamie’s face.

Ian glanced at the bed, and away again. The red flush didn’t recede from Jamie’s face, but I saw a small quiver at the corner of his mouth. He bowed elaborately to his brother-in-law.

“Your pardon, Ian, I was forgettin’ my manners. Allow me to introduce ye to my companion.” He stepped to the side of the bed and pulled back the quilts.

“No!” Ian cried, jumping to his feet and looking frantically at the floor, the wardrobe, anywhere but at the bed.

“What, will ye no give your regards to my wife, Ian?” Jamie said.

“Wife?” Forgetting to look away, Ian goggled at Jamie in horror. “Ye’ve marrit a whore?” he croaked.

“I wouldn’t call it that, exactly,” I said. Hearing my voice, Ian jerked his head in my direction.

“Hullo,” I said, waving cheerily at him from my nest of bedclothes. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Voyager, Diana Gabaldon

anonymous asked:

How do you feel about Jenny? I'm reading Voyager and even tho I used to like her now I can't stand her after what she did....

anonymous said: Hi, what are your thoughts on the Jenny/Clare/Jamie/Leghair situation in Voyager? I thought Jenny’s reason to tell Leghair about Claire coming back was selfish. She knew that Jamie didn’t love Leghair and their marriage was a mistake and still made sure that Leghair found out about them? I know she loves her brother and would like to keep him near but it’s just seems so selfish and so unlike her??

Hi anons,

I think Jenny did what she thought was the right thing. Put yourself in her shoes: her brother comes home after 10+ years of prison and parole, far from home. He has been a shell of his former self since the Rising - and he comes home a very broken, alone man. She knows that he loved Claire with his whole being - but Claire is gone.

And we know that Jenny’s love for Jamie is bone-deep. She has looked after him for his whole life. Of *course* she’d want to care for him - to heal his deep emotional wounds as well as she can. To give him some kind of purpose again - now that Young Jamie is taking his place as the laird of the estate.

So she decides to find him a woman with whom he can settle down. That the woman was Laoghaire MacKenzie (with whom Jamie had had a previous relationship, and it’s not clear that Jenny even knew that he knew Laoghaire from before his marriage to Claire) is immaterial. Laoghaire was there, and she needed a man to care for her and her daughters. She could (in theory) provide the family that Jenny knew would provide Jamie with the stability and purpose that he craved.

And, of course, Jenny knew that if Jamie married Laoghaire, he’d never be far from home. Think about how many years of Jamie’s life were lived away from home - away from Jenny (his two years at universite in Paris, then three years soldiering in France, his time in France with Claire, his 7 years in the cave, his 10+ years at Ardsmuir and Helwater). Yes, she’s being selfish - but it’s her way of taking care of Jamie. Keeping him close.

So from this perspective - you can’t blame Jenny for anything that she does. It’s easy to blame her - but you must try to understand her. She was only doing what she thought was right. And it was - on paper. For a time.


The Redcoats. Flogged me twice in the space of a week. They’d have done it twice the same day, I expect, were they not afraid of killing me. There’s no joy in flogging a dead man.

Bookshop AU: Chapter 3

Hello Everyone! Here’s my first chapter and chapter 3 of The Bookshop AU: a collaborative fic by @takemeawaytocamelot​ and me. 

CATCH UP: Ch. 1: Meet Cute | Ch. 2: Tea for Two

Chapter 3: Captain Murray

I was bloody exhausted. Nine days in a row of 13-hour night shifts, but now I had a glorious thirty-five hours off. I was torn between wanting to sleep for most of it and wanting to take some time to do something enjoyable.

I’d had a patient in critical condition and had been kept a full two hours late, meaning to my great disappointment that I’d missed my usual breakfast with Jamie. Over the last month it had become part of my almost daily routine. I loved Jamie’s company. He was always interested in my stories from the hospital (as Frank never was), and gave me space to decompress. He was funny, kind and intelligent. Jamie was a wonderful friend and after only a month I didn’t know what I’d do without him.

By habit, I walked down the street that housed both our usual café and Fraser’s Books on my way home. Despite how tired as I was, I decided to pop into the bookshop to say hi before heading to Frank’s house to sleep.

I loved the smell of old books and tea that always lingered in Jamie’s shop. It always put me at ease. Neither Jamie nor Murtagh were at the front counter, so I quietly strolled between the shelves. There were no other customers in the shop. Peeking into the back room, I saw Jamie at the small antique desk. He was pouring over what seemed to be an order or ledger book and sliding down the bridge of his nose…

My mouth moving before my tired brain could catch up, I found myself greeting him by saying “Very geek-chic.” To my amusement, Jamie jumped slightly and scrambled to whip the glasses off his face as quickly as possible, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Sassenach!” He looked up at me, clearly embarrassed. I couldn’t fathom why – the rectangular glasses were rather becoming on him.

“Morning, Jamie.”

He smiled sheepishly and stood, coming around the desk towards me. “I missed you at breakfast. Long shift?”

“Very long. But it’s over. And I get an entire thirty-five hours off.”

“Well that’s verra exciting, indeed.” He smiled impishly. “What are you doing to celebrate?”

“Sleeping. Then not much of anything, really. Frank’s got a work thing.”

His eyes seemed to harden for a moment at the mention of Frank, as they often did. I couldn’t really blame him – Frank had been so rude to Jamie the only time the two men had met.

“Weel, that won’t do, lass. When’s the last time you’ve had some proper fun?”

“Hmm… before medical school, probably. So about twenty years ago,” I joked.

He chuckled a bit then said, “The lads and I are heading down to the pub tonight. Ye could join us, if ye like.”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t be daft, lass. If I didna want ye there, I wouldn’t have invited ye.”

It did sound like more fun then I’d had in a good while. “Alright. Thank you.”

“O’ course, Sassenach.” He smiled as I yawned into the sleeve of the coat I wore over my scrubs. “Go sleep for a bit and meet me back here at seven.”

I nodded and he walked me towards to shop door. “Have a good afternoon.”

“Have a good sleep, lass. I’ll see ye tonight.”

Jamie came out of the back room where he’d been stowing cash from the day in the safe just as Claire came back into his shop. He stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Claire was always radiantly beautiful. Always. But since the third time they met, she was always in her scrubs after a long shift. Now she stood by the door illuminated by the setting sun. She was both angel and seductress in tight jeans and a black pea coat. Christ.

She smiled and he melted. “How was your day?”

He cleared his throat. “Fine enough, thank ye. Did ye sleep?”

“I just about passed out the moment I got to Frank’s.”

To Frank’s. It was like a punch to the gut every time he was mentioned. Damn lucky, ungrateful bastard.

They found themselves sitting side by side on the shop’s front counter chatting about his day and her shift the night before. Ian was due to arrive any minute, and the three of them would walk to the pub together. He was a bit nervous for Ian and Claire to meet – he’d spent much of the past month lamenting to Ian about The Claire Situation, as Ian and Jenny called it. At twenty-past, Ian came into the shop still clad in his Edinburgh Fire Department t-shirt. He took one look at Jamie and Claire sitting on the counter and a slow smile spread across his face, catching Jamie’s eye over Claire’s head before she turned to look at him. Claire’s back now to Jamie, he subtly shook his head at his brother-in-law to be.

Both hopping down from the counter, Jamie introduced the pair. “Claire, this is my sister’s fiancé, Ian Murray. Ian, Claire Beauchamp.”

“It’s nice to meet ye, Claire. I’ve heard so much about ye.” Jamie was going to kill him.

Jamie, Ian and Claire walked into the boisterous bar chatting animatedly. Jamie had quickly decided against killing the man, as he’d spent the entire walk talking him up to Claire.

“So he tied them to the kitchen table and stood over the quaking lumps until the police showed up and carted them off.“

“That’s amazing.” Jamie’s cheeks warmed at Claire’s praise. Maybe he should buy Ian a drink.

They were the last to arrive – Murtagh, Angus and Rupert were already at their usual table. Ian walked ahead, followed by Claire. Jamie took up the rear – a position he was very thankful for and regretted immediately. As they walked further into the pub, Claire took off her coat giving Jamie an unimpeded view of the bonniest round arse encased in sinfully tight jeans he’d ever seen. Jesus Christ. She’d be the death of him.

So distracted, he nearly collided with her when she stopped by the table. She greeted Murtagh warmly, who raised his whiskey towards her in greeting. Ian circled the table to sit next to Angus, ensuring that Jamie and Claire would be next to each other. Jamie’s hand twitched to pull out her seat, but she beat him too it, sitting down across from Ian. Jamie took the last seat between Murtagh and Claire before introducing her to Rupert and Angus. Angus eyed her appreciatively, much to Jamie’s chagrin, before handing her the drink menu.

“The girly drinks are in the back.” Claire looked at Angus, eyebrow raised at his condescending tone.

“Thanks.” She flipped to a page near the front. Jamie looked over her shoulder and saw that she was looking at whiskeys.

He flagged down a waitress as Claire closed the menu. When she ordered, Ian and Angus kicked him under the table simultaneously, their eyebrows raised. Why God saw fit to introduce him to his perfect woman after she had fallen for another man, he’d never know. He looked at the waitress and ordered the same as Claire – Laphroaig Quarter Cask on the rocks.

Jamie turned back to Claire as the waitress went to fetch their drinks. “I didna ken you were a fan of Laphroaig.”

Claire smiled at him. “It’s my favourite.”

He couldn’t believe it. “Mine, too.”

Ian caught his eye again from across the table before addressing Claire. “So. Claire. You’re a Doctor, then?”

“Yes, I am. I’m doing my residency right now.”

Angus leaned towards her, “Ye can doctor me anytime ye like, lass. I’ve got a problem tha’ might be needin’ yer tendin’.”

Jamie was about to interject, to tell Angus to shut his gob, but it wasn’t necessary. Before he could open his mouth, Claire volleyed back, “I’d love to help, but I haven’t got a microscope powerful enough to see the problem.”

Silence… For about half a second.

And then the table, Angus included, burst into uproarious laughter.

Jamie threw an arm around Claire’s shoulder, “You’re a witty one.” Looking around the table, Jamie could see that the men had started to accept Claire into the fold.  

Hours had passed, and Jamie was having the time of his life drinking and laughing with his closest friends and the woman he loved, when their joy was abruptly cut short with the ringing of Claire’s cell phone.

“Hello? … I’m out with some friends. I…” Even over the din of the bar, Jamie could hear muffled shouting through the phone line. “Frank, stop… I … Okay… okay.” The table went quiet, Claire’s anxiety apparent even to Rupert and Angus. “I’m heading there now…. No, I don’t need you to come get me… I’m not drunk…. I… Okay. I’ll see you soon…. Yes. Bye.” Claire hung up the phone and the table remained still. She closed her eyes for a moment, upset and embarrassed. Jamie gently put a hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath before looking around the table, a forced smile plastered on her face. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run. It was lovely meeting you.”  

Everyone said somewhat subdued but heartfelt goodbyes and see-you-soons, and Jamie passed Claire her coat before telling the table that he’d see her into a taxi and be back. Jamie and Claire walked out of the bar together and stood on the street, looking out for a taxi to hail.

Claire was quiet.

Jamie pulled her into a gentle hug and closed his eyes as she settled herself comfortably under his chin.

“Tell me?”

She let out a deep sigh. “He got home from his function and was upset I wasn’t there.”

“So, what, he expects ye to just be waitin’ around for him? Waiting at his beck and call for him to get home when he pleases?” His tone had a sharpness to it he’d never had with her before. But he knew she’d know his frustration wasn’t with her.

“Well… I mean, I understand. I work long hours—”

“Aye. Ye do. And so ye deserve to do whatever ye damn well please when you’ve got some time to yourself.”

Jamie was reluctant to send her back to Randall. He didn’t know the man. Part of him feared – but no. Claire would never stay with a man who… no.

But even so… “Claire?” He tightened his arms around her.


“Will ye promise me something?”

“Of course.”

He pulled back enough to look into her beautiful, whiskey-coloured eyes. “Promise me that… that if Frank ever.” He stopped, took a breath and started again. “Promise me that if anyone ever hurts ye, you’ll tell me.”

“Oh, Jamie, no. Frank would never. He has a bit of a temper, sure, but he’d never do that.”

“I’m sure you’re right. I’m sure he wouldn’t. But even so, I’d feel better…”

“Okay. I promise.” 

They stood for another few minutes before managing to flag down a taxi. He saw her safely in and watched the taxi drive away, his heart heavy, before turning to go back into the pub.