Jamie is the towns local vet, he is about to close the practice for the day when Claire rushes in with a sick/injured Adso! Sparks fly between the two.
Jamie closed the last chart of the day and stretched, enjoying the soft rock playing over the clinic speakers. It had been an unusually long day, but his paperwork was finally done, and he was ready to close shop for the weekend.
Just then, a cloud of curls burst through the doors, looking about as distressed as the woman who bore them and, for that matter, the wee cheetie she was holding carefully under its belly. It wore a crest of painful looking porcupine quills; the work of a half-hour at least.
Yet his protest that it was a minute to closing died on his lips as he met with the woman’s golden eyes.
Dumbstruck as he was, it took him a minute to connect the crisp English accent to her.
“I’m terribly sorry for bursting in so late, it’s just that it seems there are no other veterinarians open at this hour, nor for the weekend, and I came home to find that Adso had picked the wrong fight -“
The kitten narrowed its eyes and let out a rumble of displeasure, as though remembering its foe and their undoubtedly bitter battle.
“Nae trouble at all!” Jamie said a tad too enthusiastically. “Ms…”
“Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp.”
“Jamie Fraser. Call me Jamie.” He replied, standing back and motioning the way to one of the exam rooms.
She visibly relaxed and followed him back. “Thank you so much. Lord knows the little fool deserves it -“ was it Jamie’s imagination, or did the “little fool’s” rumbling get louder at that? - “but I worry he’d hurt himself more if I left it for next week,” Claire continued, placing the cheetie on the exam table; either unfazed by its behaviour, or used to it.
Seems ye’ve caught a witch, Jamie lad. He stymied his thoughts before they could say any further stupid things.
“A porcupine, ye say? Weel he’s luckily he didna get it worse then.” Jamie commented as he placed a hand on the cat’s fluffy rear in an attempt to stabilize him.
Lightning-fast, he pinched the quill near its base and tugged, simultaneously freeing it and producing a loud yowl from the unfortunate critter.
“One down, about seven more to go.” Claire beamed at him.
“Ooch the first is the easiest,” Jamie explained, “these last ones, weel it depends on the beast, but I dinna think yon cheetie will let them go without a fight.”
He was somewhat embarrassed to find his Scots accent deepening in her presence, and he wondered if she noticed.
“Shhh wee cheetie, dinna fash” he murmured reassuringly, petting its unquilled lower half as he slowly lowered his hand towards what currently resembled nothing so much as a sentient and very angry dustball.
A quick paw reached out and batted his hand away, hissing.
“Adso!” Claire admonished the cat, strikingly like a parent castigating a small child, “let the nice man help you.”
Jamie couldn’t hide his grin as Adso reluctantly lowered his paw, as though he understood his human’s words.
Weel if she is a witch, I’d let her enchant me any day.
She turned an apologetic gaze towards him, “I’m so sorry, he’s really normally sweet…”
“Aye, it’s the pain doing it. I’ve had it happen with horses, so a cheetie’s no trouble.” He reassured her.
“A horse? Really! I’d wouldn’t imagine they would be so foolish as to take on a porcupine.”
She shot an accusatory look at Adso, and he looked away with as much dignity as he could muster in the situation.
Jamie couldn’t help but smile even more broadly. He was uncomfortably aware that he’d been smiling far more than was normal. Complete dolt, that’s what she thinks of ye, lad.
“Not generally, but some sometimes the two startle each other and there’s a wee stramash.”
Claire laughed, and Jamie felt oddly proud to have achieved that. When, he wondered, had he become such a bonehead around women?
He returned his attention (or at least his eyes) to the kitten, gently questing for information as he divested it of its painful ornaments.
“Ye’re not from here, I think?” He asked.
“No, I’m new to Inverness. Moved here to… finish up my medical residency.”
Caught by the sorrow of her tone, he didn’t get his hand back fast enough, and found it instantly mauled by the offended feline.
Claire let out a huff of laughter, but the echo of sorrow was still there.
Jamie extracted his finger from the beastie’s wee claws and tentatively pushed her on it.
“A sassenach in Inverness? That’s an odd choice, if ye don’t mind my saying.”
For a moment she looked as though she would brush him off, but then she let out a breath and something about her seemed to relax, to accept whatever it was she had to tell him.
“I don’t, it’s just… I’ve just gotten divorced. Wanted a fresh start and all that. Some distance.” She looked past the room as she said it, but returned to the present after a moment, meeting his eyes in a manner that had a hint of a challenge to it.
Jamie held her eyes, hoping he was managing to convey sympathy instead of the pity he imagined she often received.
“I understand, though for what it’s worth, I’m surprised any man would willingly part from you.”
He felt the heat rise in his face once more. Ye damn clumsy fool. She’s being open with ye and ye decide the best response is to flirt? Ye should be happy if she claps yer ears and walks out. No less than ye deserve.
Yet she did not clap his ears, nor indeed did she walk out. Jamie seized on the silence to make amends.
“I’m sae sorry, that was rude of me, I-“
“No, no. It was fine, really.” She seemed to hesitate over her next words, and Jamie held his breath.
“It’s just been a while since… I don’t know, since such advances were welcome, I suppose.”
Jamie felt as though he was bolted to the spot. He knew he should say something, but his mind had gone completely blank.
Strident rock chords broke their bubble.
“HEAVY PETTING / COME UP BREATHING” growled the singer
Jamie looked as though someone had dropped him in a boiling pot. Ears glowing bright enough to rival a phone booth, he leapt out of the room and fumbled with the computer, mumbling something about “damn playlist,” and “Alec’s nephew, wee sod.”
Claire burst into laughter at this sudden spectacle, gasping for breath and earning an inquisitive “mrrp?” from Adso that perfectly matched the expression Jamie turned towards her as he re-entered the room. This did nothing to help with the breathing situation, which was becoming quite dire, all sound having been cut off in her mirth.
“Are you laughing at me?” Jamie asked, grinning as he leaned against the door frame.
“Yes, I most certainly am!” Claire gasped, trying to regain her composure.
Jamie found himself unable to resist laughing with her.
Another delicate bubble of silence enveloped them as they recovered.
“I should be on my way. Weekend clinic tomorrow.”
“Oh, aye. Of course.” He agreed, clearing his throat and trying to hide his disappointment. And what did ye think ye’d do, hey? Invite her to yer home just after meeting her? Along with her cheetie?
Claire picked up her unhappy but now de-quilled kitten, tucking him in the crook of her arm to prevent him from squirming too much as he saw her to the door.
She opened her mouth, her face seeming to indicate something was on her mind. But she seemed to decide against it, simply smiling, thanking him, and bidding him a good night.
He beamed, transfixed by the warmth of her smile; a heat he felt right down to his bones.
“Nae trouble, Claire. Good night to you as well.”
Jamie stared at the door for some time after she left, enjoying the flittering of butterflies in his stomach before he realized he’d not thought to ask for her number.
The following week was one of the rare busy weeks at the hospital, and as such, Claire pushed her plans to meet the hot vet once more to the back of her mind. Yet as luck would have it, life intervened to give her another chance.
A plaintive howl emerged from behind the nurse’s desk as Claire walked up to it, eager to confirm her shift was indeed over so she could go home for the weekend.
Nurses Hildegarde, Fitz and Duncan were crowded around its source.
“I dinna care if it’s ill, it’s a mangy dog, no’ a person!” Geillis griped.
“Oh no, is Bouton under the weather?” Claire asked, leaning over to get a look at the miserable dog. Affectionately known as the “petit docteur,” Bouton was a familiar presence on the ward, beloved by the patients and staff (save for nurse Duncan, who seemed to be the only person in the world he didn’t get along with), and known for catching things that even the doctors missed.
“I am afraid so. He has been under the weather for the past few days; I am concerned for him.” Nurse Hildegarde explained, casting a sympathetic look at the poor beast.
“I’ll bring him to a vet!” Claire offered, rather too hastily.
At the nurses’ raised brows, she tried to amend her enthusiasm. “It’s just that I know a very good vet, and I live close… well, close-ish…”
Seeing her rising blush, Nurse Hildegarde hid a smile. “That would be so kind of you, Claire.”
“No trouble at all!” Claire hastily threw on her coat and rushed out, bearing a somewhat startled terrier.
“A vet, then? Geillis grinned slyly. “Think that means he likes it doggy-style?”
Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries (not very graphic)
A/N: I just finished season 2 of Agents of Shield and I’ve been emotionally compromised
(Not my gif)
“Fitz, I need you to calm down,” Coulson said firmly, stepping in front of the panicking scientist. “She’s in good hands, she should come out of this okay.” “You shouldn’t have let her go alone!” Fitz protested. “Something was bound to go wrong!” “Agent (L/N) knew what she was getting into. This was her choice.” “Was it her choice to get shot?” Down the corridor from where the two men were arguing, the operating room was full of surgeons and nurses trying desperately to keep you alive. You were barely recognisable beneath a layer of cuts, bruises and bandages, the most noticeable one on your severely broken leg. The mission should have been simple; sneak into a Hydra base, collect valuable data, sneak out, blow the place sky high. It was nothing you hadn’t done a thousand times, and yet everything had gone drastically wrong. The place had been swarmed with agents, a couple too many for you to handle, and you’d been captured. After several painstakingly long hours of torture, S.H.I.E.L.D had finally intervened and gotten you out. Fitz sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair, his knee jumping up and down as he leaned forward in his seat, trying to compose himself. He could hear doctors and nurses shouting down the corridor, which wasn’t helping. He knew deep down that you would be alright; you were tough, tougher than him. You got hurt on missions all the time, but it had never been this bad. He’d gotten a brief glimpse of you as they wheeled you off the Quinjet, and the image was haunting you. Your skin was covered in dried blood, but he could still see the bruises underneath. A doctor came hurrying along the corridor, catching sight of Fitz and Coulson in the waiting area. “Are you here for Miss (L/N)?” she asked. Fitz got to his feet immediately. “Is she alright?” he demanded. Coulson placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She’s pulled through surgery, she’s beginning to wake up. Her leg will take several weeks to mend completely and she’ll have several nasty scars, but she will return to full health.” Coulson breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing into the nearest chair. You were one of his best and favourite agents, and the prospect of losing you was unbearable. “Can we see her?” Fitz asked, wringing his hands together in an attempt to get rid of some of the energy he suddenly found he had. The doctor smiled softly at him. “Of course you can. Are you her boyfriend?” He frowned slightly; was he your boyfriend? Sure, you two had kissed, and you spent a lot of time together, but no one had ever actually called him that. “He is,” Coulson interrupted, smiling knowingly at Fitz. “You are.” The Scottish man nodded slightly, following the doctor along the corridor to your recovery room. You opened your eyes carefully as you heard the door opening. A weak smile grew on your lips as a familiar figure sat beside your bed. “Hey,” you mumbled, reaching for Fitz’s hand with difficulty. He squeezed your hand gently, his expression softening for the first time in hours. “How do you feel?” he asked, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear carefully. “You scared the hell out of me, and Coulson.” You grinned. “I’m honoured. I don’t feel as bad as I did earlier, leg’s a bit of an inconvenience though.” He chuckled. “That’s one word for it.” You gritted your teeth in pain as you tried to sit up, Fitz immediately supporting you and shifting the pillows for you. You noticed the worry in his eyes as he watched you moving slowly, and you smiled softly. “I’m okay, Fitz. This is nothing,” you told him. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief as you continued to speak. “I wonder when Coulson will let me back on missions…” “Are you being serious?” he asked, his Scottish accent more prominent as he raised his voice. “You could’ve been killed out there, and you want to go back?” “I want to get payback,” you corrected him. “Whoever did this took multiple tries to break my leg, I’d like to show them how it should be done.” He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he told you, smiling slightly. You grinned. “And the death of that Hydra agent if I’m lucky.” “You need mental help.” You shrugged. “The jury’s out on that one.” Wincing as you accidentally moved your broken leg, you cursed under your breath. Fitz let you grip his hand tightly until the pain subsided, before he finally voiced what had been on his mind. “Coulson just called me your boyfriend,” he said quietly. You smiled softly. “So did I. I asked the doctor if I could see my boyfriend, and you came.” “So I’m actually your boyfriend?” he asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “You seriously want to be my…” “Girlfriend?” you suggested. “I wouldn’t mind it.” A grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “Me neither,” he told you. “Brilliant,” you replied, your jaw starting to ache from smiling. A yawn escaped your lips, the anaesthetic still wearing off. Fitz chuckled, kissing your lips briefly. “Get some sleep. I’ll go tell Coulson how you’re doing.” “I love you,” you mumbled as he got to his feet. He turned slightly, surprise then joy registering on his face. “I love you too.”
A/N: Please tell me in my askwhat you think of this! I just finished season 2 of AOS, and the Fitzsimmons feels are killing me
You walk into Mikes room slowly and nervous. He instantly notices your weird mood and gets up and hug you. “Whats wrong babe?” You’re quiet for a minute and then back up and look at him. “Im….Im pregnant.” He is silent for a minute and backs up to sit on the bed. You weren’t sure he heard you. You follow him and sit next to him and wait for him to say something. Suddenly he speaks “Am I…the dad?” You walk up to him. “Of course you are Mike” Tears well up in his eyes and he looks down and then smiles at you “Im gonna be a Dad.” Then he pulls you into a hug and kisses you deeply.
Caleb comes over for dinner with you since you’re stuck home alone for the night and he knows how much that creeps you out. You haven’t told him the news yet, not knowing how exactly to tell him yet. You didn’t know how he would take it with his mood swings. You’re cooking and he goes to the bathroom. As he is washing his hands he notices something. The pregnancy test in the trash can. He knows its yours instantly because your mom has her own bathroom. You is infuriated that you didn’t tell him and storms out of the bathroom. “When were you going to tell me?” He says firmly. “Tell you what?” “Don;t play dumb Y/N! You know exactly what Im talking about” he yells and then he holds up the test. You look at the test and then look at him. “Caleb…I was going to tell you.” “When?! Is it even mine?!” He is practically screaming at you. You walk over to him and put your hands on his cheeks. “Caleb you need to calm down. Of course its yours. I was going to tell you but I hadn’t figured out how yet. I’m sorry.” His eyes soften and he looks at the ground. “I’m sorry” He says and the kisses your forehead. “I was just caught off guard by it. I guess. I love you Y/N” “I love you too Caleb.”
Toby Cavenough: You text Toby and say “Come over, it’s an emergency. Toby sees this and runs to your house. He walks into your room and sees you sitting on the bed bawling your eyes out. He rushes to your side and puts one arm around you and the other hand on your cheek. “Babe babe babe, whats going on? What’s wrong?” You continue crying and hand him the test. He looks at it and is stunned. You finally speak. “What are we gonna do?” you are still sobbing. Toby puts the test down next to him and kneels down in front of you on the floor placing his hands on your cheeks. You look him in the eyes and he begins wiping your tears away “Everything is going to be okay, we can handle this. I promise. I am gonna be the best dad in the world and you are gonna be the best mom.” “You really think so?” “I know so” You hug him and he holds you and whispers sweet things to you until you stop crying and then he lays with you in bed until you fall asleep.
You walk into his apartment and with no hesitation just say it “Ezra, I’m Pregnant.” He was in the middle of cooking and all you hear is whatever he was cooking with hit the floor. He looks at you. “You’re what?” You walk into the kitchen and look at him. “Im pregnant.” He doesn’t seem to know what to do. “oh my god.” “I know” You both stand there awkwardly silent for a minute. He is the one who breaks the silence. “Well it looks like we have some house hunting to do then.”
For @mrs-weekday 21 (Do you think you could go one day without pissing me off?) and 25 (It’s always been you.) with Ward. I’m putting this in season one.
There’s always just been something about him, that really fucking pisses you off. He’s got this annoying smirk on his face all the time, and that fucking nickname he has for you. Baby Spider. Like you need reminding who trained you. But worst of all he’s so, so attractive. Unfortunately it’s like he’s got this bad habit of always needing to be right.
“I’m Grant Ward. I can shoot the wings off of a fly with my eyes closed.” You mock under your breath causing both Fitz and Simmons to snicker quietly. Ward has been pestering the two scientists over one of their latest weapons. The Night Night gun has been Fitz obsession, and Ward wanting to make sure that it’s as perfect as a real gun has been checking in daily.
“Hey, how’s the gun going?” The man of the hour comes into the room, swaggering as usual.
“It’s over there.” Fitz nods as he continues to work on your gauntlets. He’s adding a few new toys to them, ones you couldn’t wait to show The Black Widow. You roll your eyes as Ward pops the gun up and takes aim at an invisible target.
“It’s still off by a few ounces.” He says placing it back down and you shoot him an annoyed look. This one catches his eye.
“What Baby Spider?” He mocks.
“Oh nothing oh great one.” You reply sarcastically.
“If you’ve got a problem with me why don’t you just say it?” Ward snaps and you fold your arms over your chest.
“Hey Fitz, I’ll be back for my gauntlets later, I have a sudden urge to punch something.” You tell him hopping off of the stool you’ve been sitting on and head out the far door.
“Hey Baby Spider. I’m not done with you.”
“God Ward. Do you think you could go one day without pissing me off?” You ask turning to face him.
“Me? You’re the one who’s always so irritating. Just because you were trained by The Black Widow doesn’t make you hot shit.”
“Oh but you are?” You sneer, chests rising harshly, your anger at him causing your heart to race.
“I’m a good Agent!”
“I see but I’m not! Nice Ward.”
“Damnit!” He growls and wraps his hands around your biceps and collides your mouth into his. You let out a surprised squeak but don’t try to push him away. His lips coax a response from yours and somehow you find yourself kissing him back. You pull away from him and stare up at him in confusion.
“What the-?” You ask.
“It’s always been you. I’ve been hoping to impress you and every time I just look like an ass.”
“Well. You don’t look like an ass right now.” You tell him with a small smirk. “You look like a man who should be making out with me.”
And for once, Ward takes your suggestion.
You should definitely write a fluffy one shot about ezria burning pancakes I'm tired of the Nicole drama LMAO
Ezra has Aria’s back pressed against the counter. He’s taking his time as he licks the batter from her upper lip and he can feel her smiling through the motions. He’s careful to avoid clanging his teeth against hers – he doesn’t want there to be any reason for this to end prematurely.
Slowly, he lets his hand trail down her back, his fingers snagging momentarily over the soft fabric of her tank top before his palm lands on her hip. She’s only wearing underwear, and it’s not something he’s disappointed in. As he deepens their kiss, twisting his tongue with hers, he skims the hem of her underwear, then skims her leg where cheek meets thigh. She folds in a little, somehow managing to lean back into the counter and forward into him at the same time. Either way, it’s what spurs him to hoist her up and onto the counter.
He’s careful to make sure she’s not sitting on the stove, but in the process, they knock over a bowl of strawberries.
“Fuck,” he mumbles between kissing her hungrily and pushing her messy hair out of her face.
“Less talking, more kissing,” she says lazily.
“Mmm,” he agrees, diving in for more. “Now that I can do.”
They stay like that for what seems like infinity. Ezra is a second away from stepping back and pulling a certain article of her clothing to the floor when Aria suddenly covers her mouth, stifling a gag.
“Oh, god,” she says. She jumps off the counter.
“Oh…” Her face is twisted up as she looks for the source of the smell.
“Shit!” Ezra says, spotting the stove top the same second she does.
“I thought you said you were done!” Aria says, stepping back as Ezra rushes forward to scrape the blackening pancake from the frying pan. He twists the knob and the burner goes dim.
“No,” he says, defensively. “I said I could be done.”
Aria rolls her eyes. Ezra’s back relaxes the second the frying pan is moved to cool burner. He stands and continues to scrape at the charred mass.
“Scraping at that is useless. You can soak it once it’s cooled down,” Aria says slowly. She eases up behind him and slips both of her arms around his torso, then lets them trail further down until they’re at his waistline. “But you know…I can think of a few things we could do while we’re waiting.” She slips her hands under the elastic and slowly starts to pull the material of his boxers down inch by inch until they’re on the floor.
“Mrs. Fitz,” he says, turning around, pretending to sound both confused and offended. “What on earth are you suggesting?”
She stands up to her full height, the top of her head barely hitting him square in the chest. She twists her wrists, lightly bounces on the heels of her feet, and looks at him out of the side of her eye. “Sex now, pancakes later. I thought that was clear.”