In order to get my feet wet in the world of Outlander fanfic, I decided to write some one-shot AU drabbles based on the “things you said” prompts. Feedback is extremely welcome.
Things You Said After You Kissed Me
She isn’t a jealous person.
Truly, it’s a useless emotion and Claire Beauchamp has no
time for it. She was never jealous, not when she saw women flirting with her
fiancé, nor when he announced he was leaving her for a former student.
So, really, if she was going to be jealous, it would have
been then, not when she saw the pair of them walking into the jazz club she
forced herself to go to.
While she may not feel jealousy towards the girl (Candy?
Trixie?), she does feel a very specific emotion towards Frank.
Why should he get to walk around, happy and in love, while
she mopes about like a pathetic spinster?
27 years old is too young to be a spinster. She’s a doctor,
damn it, and a desirable woman.
So she does the first thing that pops into her slightly
whisky-soaked brain: grab the handsome red headed stranger sitting two seats
away and kiss him for all she’s worth. It’s a great plan, if she does say so
herself. Sure, there’s a possibility of things going terribly wrong, but
there’s no time to consider that outcome.
Thankfully, the stranger is only stunned into stillness for three
seconds. She feels one large hand slide into her hair, gripping the curls
lightly as he responds to the kiss. His other hand rests respectfully on her
shoulder. If she wishes he would move that hand to her back, pull her tightly
into his embrace, that’s just the whisky talking.
The sound of a man clearing his throat somewhere to her
right causes her to slowly disengage from the gorgeous stranger, their eyes
locked. His gaze shines bright with confusion and hunger and the urge to ignore
the interruption and get back to the task at hand is strong.
Unfortunately, the interruption speaks and breaks the spell.
His voice, smarmy and haughty, grates on her nerves. How did
she ever think he was the one? Why did she think she wanted to marry this man
and spend her life with him?
“Hello Frank,” she responds, her tone cool and
disinterested. Gesturing vaguely to his female companion, she continues, “and
“This is Sandy. My…fiancée,” he answers with slight
trepidation. Again, Claire feels no jealousy over the situation. She doesn’t
wish she still held that title and she doesn’t feel her heart crack in her
chest. At most, she feels anger that he’s moved on so fast with this woman, as
if their relationship meant nothing.
Lost in thought, Claire nearly misses Frank extending his
hand towards her unwitting accomplice. “Frank Randall.”
“Jamie Fraser,” he introduces himself with a lyrical Scottish
brogue and a hard gripping handshake – Claire doesn’t miss the slight wince on
Frank’s face. “Claire’s husband.”
If she had been taking a drink at that moment, it would have
ended up all over Frank and Sandy/Candy/Trixie. As it is, she coughs slightly
to cover up her surprise at his impromptu answer.
“Husband?” Frank seems as surprised by this change in
marital status as Claire is. His eyes widen as he searches her face for
“Oh aye, going on one month now. Bit of a whirlwind romance,
ye ken? We met right at this very club and from the first moment, I knew there
could be no other.”
Her fake husband grabs her hand reverently, stroking his
thumb over her knuckles in a tender gesture. She can’t help but catch his eye,
marveling at the shade of blue and at the mischief hiding there. Finally
registering Frank’s silence, she glances over to see a rare lack of composure
taking over him.
“Well…I guess congratulations are in order,” he says with no
real confidence or sincerity. Claire’s not sure if the shock is plain on her
face, but she smiles tightly and nods.
“Thank you, Frank. Congratulations to you both as well.”
The awkward silence stretches on before Jamie stands,
reaching several inches taller than Frank. “Ready to head out, mo nighean donn?”
Stunned, Claire barely manages a nod and a polite goodbye to
Frank and his new fiancée. She feels Jamie’s fingers squeeze hers reassuringly
before they make their way to the exit hand in hand. Claire doesn’t even offer
a parting glace at the man she used to love, leaving him in shocked silence
with his new future.
“I’m sorry if I got a little carried away back there, lass.
I just thought you might like to one up the bastard,” Jamie explains with a
self-deprecating shrug and a smirk one they’re out the door.
“You?” she exclaims, eyes wide, “I practically accosted you
without so much as a ‘hello, how are you?’ I didn’t give you much of a choice
in the little charade.”
“Weel, I’ve no been accosted by such a bonnie lass before.
Did you no see me working up the nerve to talk to you all night?”
Claire can feel the blush warming her cheeks in the cool
night air. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t. “
Finally taking stock of their surroundings, she notes that
they’re a couple blocks away from the bar, hands still clasped together. She
ponders letting go for a brief moment before tightening her grip, enjoying the
feel of his warm palm against hers.
“Since you so brazenly attacked me at the bar, I think you
owe me a favor, lass.”
“Oh really?” she asks with a smile fighting to take over her
face. “And what, exactly, did you have in mind?”
Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Jamie gestures to
the diner a few paces away. “A quick bite to eat?”
She finds herself unable to slow her rapid heartbeat in the
face of his bright grin. Not trusting her voice, she nods and allows him to
lead her inside the nearly empty establishment.
If Claire fancied herself a competitive person, she would
definitely declare herself the winner.