Original prompt: I know there was just a a part 4 in modern glasgow au of Jamie & Claire getting to know each other on the plane. Will there be more to fill in the gaps, maybe from there wedding or first date?
They had no plan – just to be outside, in the balmy weather, with each other.
Truth be told, Jamie wanted to walk down the largest streets in Glasgow, holding Claire’s hand so the whole world could see that this wonderful, strange woman was his.
But more immediate needs came first.
“I canna believe ye’re no’ feeling any ill effects from last night,” he said, chewing a piece of toast. They’d stepped into a local café for a hearty breakfast, taking a table that allowed them to sit side by side.
“Black coffee and protein cure almost everything,” she said between bites of omelet, nudging her knee against his. “I should know. I’m a nurse.”
He smiled into his teacup. “Aye, weel. I dinna wish to argue wi’ ye in any medical matters. Or ever, to be honest.”
Her eyes fell to her plate. “But you know it’s bound to happen, sooner or later. We can’t always be happy, Jamie. We’ll disagree.”
“And if it happens – it happens.” He absently pushed a pile of potatoes with his spoon. “I asked ye to promise me honesty, Claire. And I’ll pledge the same to you.” He lay a big hand on the smooth, bare skin of her thigh, right below the hem of her dress. “I’ll never lie to ye, Claire. I’ll always let ye know what’s on my mind. I dinna make false vows.”
She set down her fork and cupped his cheek. “I know, Jamie. You can’t know how precious that is to me.”
“I’ll never play ye false, Claire. I truly will forsake all others. Gladly.” He swallowed. “I’ll never hurt you like he did.”
Not caring one bit of the other diners, she brought his mouth to hers. It was a slow, wet kiss and it lasted for a long while.
Finally she pulled back, eyes shining. He held her chin between a thumb and forefinger.
“How come every silly conversation between us becomes so serious, so quickly?” she asked softly.
He ran his thumb along her lower lip. “Because we dinna waste time wi’ empty words and flowery promises. And we have honesty and respect.”
“And love,” she smiled.
He sighed, heart full. “Oh, lass. So much love.”
By early afternoon it dawned on her that although she’d lived in Glasgow for almost three years, she’d never really gotten to know the city.
Jamie led her up small, winding side streets and large leafy avenues, bustling with people at mid-day. They stopped at a few boutiques where Claire lovingly touched a few gorgeous dresses and Jamie whispered silly dreams in her ear, smiling. She insisted they duck into every art gallery. He showed her the doors leading to underground clubs where he’d spent a few ill-advised evenings during his time in the city three years before. They drank pints and ate meat pies at a nondescript pub.
And the whole time her hand was tightly clasped in his. She had no idea where they were or where they were going – but it didn’t matter. They were together. It was truly that simple.
She said as much to him as she leaned against a shade tree in a large public park, his head in her lap.
“My Da told me that most folk make things too complicated for their own good,” he replied after a while. “And if I ever wanted happiness in my life, it had to be based on something simple.” He ran a hand up and down her bare leg, marveling. “He and my Mam had such a deep love between them. But it was also a simple love. They – they marrit after knowing each other for only a few weeks.”
She ran a hand through his hair. “Like father, like son?”
He smiled. “Weel. When we Fraser men see something we want – we grab it wi’ both hands, aye?”
“Hmm.” Her eyes followed his fingers as they gently traced the shape of her ankle. “Has there ever been a lucky woman in Murtagh’s life?”
“Murtagh? Women?” Jamie snorted. “That man is a confirmed bachelor. I think he’s terrified of women, as a rule.”
“Really? No woman has ever wormed her way into his heart?”
Jamie closed his eyes. “I know he was in love, once.”
Claire traced the ridges of his eyebrows. “Who was she?”
He sighed. “My Mam.”
“Aye – it was my Mam. He knew her, growing up. Never told her, as far as I know. And once she met Da, weel. That was that.”
“And Murtagh is your father’s cousin?”
“He’s…I suppose. Something like that.”
Claire’s heart clenched. “Whose idea was it for him to be your godfather?”
Jamie’s eyes opened and met hers. “Mam’s. Da kent weel that Murtagh still loved her. And they both knew that he’d likely never settle down on his own. So – Jenny and I became his children.”
“That’s so…tragic. And romantic.”
He raised one brow. “Romantic? I dinna understand women sometimes.”
She traced his smile. “Don’t worry, lad. You’ll have all the time in the world to get to know how we think.”