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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Miles Between Us Chapter 13 ~The Reunion~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Obstacle Course ...

"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."

"What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said."

Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money.

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The full moon illuminated Jamie's and Claire's path as they made their way to the cottage into the cold night. It seemed they were the only two people in the world, walking in comfortable silence, lost in their own respective thoughts, and the only sounds to be heard were their footfalls and the dance of the trees. Inhaling deeply, Jamie pulled Claire into the warmth of his body, gently kissing the crown of her head, and in turn, her arm slid familiarly under his jacket to settle around his waist. For the first time in five days, every cell in his body was alive and buzzing, and it felt amazing to hold and have her close again.

Earlier, after the excitement and stramash outside Christie's apartment building had settled, they'd gone back in search of Quentin. It hadn't taken them long to spot him where he'd leaned on the wall outside the pub working his phone, most probably trying to call Claire. Though Quentin had looked like he could go for a few more round of drinks, to his relief, he hadn't put up much of an argument when Claire had firmly suggested it was time to call it a day. They'd escorted him back to his lodgings, making sure he had everything before heading for home.

It had been a surreal day, and Jamie knew it was far from over. He'd sensed Claire wanted to talk, and who could blame her? They had a lot of things to discuss, but his depraved mind had other ideas. His alcohol-fueled bravado from earlier had long waned to be replaced with an urgency that pulsed heat below his belly. But he swiftly reminded himself to be an attentive boyfriend first and clear the air between them.

After what he'd put himself and Claire through the last few days, he was done being a prisoner of the past and mistrusting the future. Here, at this moment with her, he was whole, and just having her beside him was healing invisible wounds all over his body. He needed her, but her needs came first even though her sweet scent and the sound of her soft sighs were piercing holes in his self-restraint. At nearly midnight, the air was icy cold, and yet, there was a fine layer of perspiration on his skin brought about by the anticipation of being finally alone with her.

When they eventually reached the cottage, Jamie had a hard time giving up her body's warmth to retrieve his keys, so he turned her to face him and locked her in an embrace. Savouring the feel of her, he wondered how the hell he'd managed to keep his distance; moreover, allow her to go to Inverness with Tom.

"Home sweet home," Claire murmured, breaking his thoughts. She made a move to pull away, but he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her icy fingers instead. "I think I need a drink," she said, shivering, "It's been quite an eventful night, don't you think?"

Jamie shook himself and nodded. "Aye. It's been a riot." He finally let go of her, quickly fishing for his keys in his pocket and unlocking the door, letting her pass first. They were welcomed by two happy, hyper animals who circumvented him to get to Claire. Ah, wee traitors!

He shut the door and watched with amusement as Claire immediately fell on her knees, her arm going around Rollo's neck while her free hand scratched Adso's back ear. Jamie grinned when both nudged closer and let out chesty whimpering sounds as they were treated to Claire's lovefest.

His eyes landed on her unpacked bags on the floor. She must have left the cottage as soon as she'd arrived. "How'd ye know where to find me earlier? Ye never called," he remarked, divesting his jacket and dropping it onto the chair.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I didn't. When Tom dropped me here, I realised I forgot to hand in some documents for Mary. I kind of figured you might be out with uncle Lamb. So I thought before calling you I'd walk over to Tom's to drop the papers for Mary and well, ..." she shrugged, her eyes twinkling. "I was about to phone you, and who did I find outside Tom's apartment building? My boyfriend serenading Mary Hawkins, no less."

Almost completely sober by now, his head dropped to hide his embarrassment, his pained groan barely subdued in his throat at the reminder of the recent event. "Oh, Christ!"

She stood up, walked over to him and encircled her arms around his neck, forcing him to glance at her smiling face. "I thought you were adorable." She kissed his chin. "And I think Mary was chuffed to bits hearing your love declarations. She'll never leave the Highlands now, what with Tom as her new love interest and you serenading her in front of an audience. She probably thinks she's heaven's gift to Broch Mordha and vice versa."

Her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck made it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ye should be righteously pissed at me for thinking ye were with Tom. And even if ye were in his apartment, I shouldnae have jumped to conclusions."

She contemplated his words. "We all get our jealous moments," she said quietly. "Well, I certainly do ...at least."

"Ye? Jealous? I only have eyes for ye, Sassenach. Ye have nothing to be jealous about." Then the image of Geneva's kiss came to mind, and his throat tightened. With everything that had happened today, he'd already forgotten about it ...until now. He knew only too well how the truth had its way of coming out, and he couldn't just dismiss it as an afterthought even though it didn't mean a thing. He needed to tell her before she finds out from someone else.

"Geneva," she whispered as if reading his mind. "I heard ..."

"Ye heard what?" She's already heard about the kiss? There was no stopping the weight of dread from settling in his belly. "Whatever stories ye heard about her and me, there's a perfect explanation for it, Sassenach. I can assure ye."

She didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort nor heard the words he'd just said, her gaze too busy following the movements of her hands as they travelled down to his shoulders and over his chest. "While you were in Lallybroch, Willie came to check up on me once in a while to see how I was fairing. I thought it was rather sweet of him to do that." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, he mentioned something about Geneva fancying you, and that didn't sit well because I know she's your therapist, and Jenny preferred her for you." Her eyes suddenly dimmed. "Oh, God! Why am I even telling you this? It's so primary school."

"Sassenach ..." He brushed his lips to her forehead. "It's not ..."

She visibly shook herself. "No, let me finish. I know it's silly, but I couldn't help feeling the way I did. It was torturous knowing you were suffering, and I could do nought about it. I feared that night when you left, I may have made things worse by pushing you to talk about the past." True to her words, her expression was troubled as she chewed her bottom lip. "You see ...I want to be the one who can make things better for you, but I also recognise there are things about your condition that are beyond my understanding no matter how much I try to help or learn about it." She took a deep breath. "Geneva's your therapist, and she knows what she's doing. Sooo ...I have to put aside my petty jealousy and let Geneva do her work. But it doesn't mean I have to like her or the whole situation. So for the sake of ..."

"No, Sassenach. Stop right there." He dropped his mouth to prevent her from saying more, punctuating his words with a kiss. Their breaths collided, his fingers gripping her shoulders hard and digging into her skin. "Ye have every right not to like the situation. Because I dinnnae like it either." He searched her face, but her eyelids were at half-mast, and her gaze seemingly focused on his lips. He tipped her chin up. "I willnae be returning to therapy. So ye dinnae have to worry about her."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wot? But why?" She stopped and looked at him suspiciously. "Wait. If this is your way of making me stop seeing Tom, sorry mate, not going to happen. This is work. And I'm not stopping you from going to therapy just because it's Geneva either."

"Woman, will ye let me finish?" He took a few cleansing breaths. "I'll wager ye a pound to a penny that ye willnae allow me to attend the therapy when ye hear what she did."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Why? What did she do?"

"She kissed me."

She stiffened and took a step back. "Wot?" Her expression of softness she had just moments ago made way for disbelief.

He tried to rid the sudden tangle in his throat. "She stopped by today. She said something about wanting to talk about my progress. I told her I was busy. Then she threw herself at me and kissed me. It's nae biggie."

"Nae biggie?!" Her eyes flashed, and her mouth open and closed. And then opened again. "Where did she kiss you? Lips or cheek?"

Her question caught him like a surprise right hook. On any other occasion, he would have probably been amused with her display of jealousy, but the way she was looking at him now, was causing his heart to pound painfully against his ribs. "O-on the lips, but I ...ah ...immediately pushed her away. I swear to God, I did nothing to inspire it."

She rolled her head as if preparing for a fight, and when her eyes landed on the bottle of tequila he and her uncle had been drinking earlier, she made a beeline for it. "On the lips, huh? Did you like it?" She poured herself a healthy measure in one of the used glasses without offering him one and downed it in one go.

Christ! "No!"

"Any tongue involved?"

"Of course not!"

"You sure?" She slammed the glass down on the table, making him flinch.

What the bloody hell? The questions she was throwing at him was making him squirm on his feet, and for the first time, Jamie realised how similar Claire and Quentin were when trying to extract an answer. Both would undoubtedly make great interrogators if ever they'd decided on a career change. "What kind of question is that? The kiss happened so fast, taking me by surprise. I didnae have time to think. She might have tried to put her tongue down my throat, but I stopped her."

"And where did this happen?"

"What do ye mean? I already told ye she stopped by. I was here ...at home."

"I mean, did it happen inside or outside the cottage?"

Jesus! "Outside."

"Outside," she repeated, more to herself.

"Aye, outside. She wanted to come in, but I told her I had things to do and was expecting a visitor ...yer uncle, that is. Anyway, that aside, I didnae think it was a good idea to allow her to come inside, knowing that she's my therapist and fancied her chances with me."

"Hmmm ...so when she threw herself at you, you pushed her away, is that right?"

"Aye."

"Where did her hands go?"

Confusion seeped into his already muddled head. Is this some kind of trick question to catch me of any wrongdoing? "What do ye mean?"

"Geneva's hands. Did it go around your waist, neck or what?"

"Oh, um ...around my neck."

"And what about your hands?"

Huh? "What about them?"

"Where were your hands when she kissed you?"

"They were by my side. The only time I touched her was to push her away from me. Ask yer uncle. He saw the whole thing. I didnae even know he was there."

"And he didn't sock you?"

"Why would he?" he almost shouted. "I didnae do a thing. It was Geneva who initiated it!"

"Fine."

"Fine?" he gasped in confusion.

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and took off her jacket. That's it? What the hell just happened? I gave her the truth, and that's supposed to be good, right? Or am I missing something? He followed her strained movement, and he helplessly watched her grabbed her laptop bag and rummaged through it, the silence pulsing around them bordering on awkwardness. This was definitely not how he'd envisioned their reunion, he thought miserably.

"Sassenach," he began, choosing his words carefully. "I can tell ye're upset about the kiss. Ye ken ye've no reason to be, aye?"

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. "No," she agreed, relief washing over him. "I've no reason to." She pulled out sheets of paper from her bag, looked at them and haphazardly stuffed them back in again, seemingly going through the motion of keeping her hands busy.

"Then why are ye cranky all of a sudden?"

She let go of her bag and grabbed the bottle of tequila, sloshing over the rim of the glass as she poured another shot. "I'm not." She grimaced as she threw back the liquid.

"Ye are." When she poured another drink, he frowned at her. "Go easy on that tequila, Sassenach."

Her head spun halfway round in his direction, reminding him of that wee girl in the film, The Exorcist. Her mouth dropped open, and she glared at him.

He forced himself to remain patient. Claire was visibly upset about something, and now he wasn't sure anymore if it had to do with Geneva's kiss. "Sometimes, I associate alcohol with bad judgments and choices," he began calmly. "My own, especially. But ye've helped me make a lot of good ones in the past, and ...I just want to do the same for ye. Talk to me, Sassenach. What's really bothering ye?"

She huffed and balled her fingers into tight fists. "Fine! Do you want to know the truth? I want to start a fight."

"A fight?" He reined in his frustration of not being able to understand and took a step closer to her. "Why would ye wanna do that?"

A deep scarlet soared from her neck to her cheeks as she threw her hands in the air. "The last few days were trying, alright? It wasn't only you who was having a rough time with it. God, I've been worried sick about you. I've been trying to keep it together ever since you left, wondering if I'll ever get to see you before I return to London. And then ...and then," she hiccupped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob. "One bloody thing led to another. First, I got into a fight with your sister because of some stupid newspaper clipping she had in her possession. Then, not long after that, in the middle of what was supposed to be an important meeting with Tom, my boss dumps the responsibility of babysitting Mary onto my lap, and I had no idea how I was going to manage that with my uncle on his way. Then I got to Inverness, hoping to get at least some work done with Mary to finish her book so I could finally leave London for good and start a new life here with you. And you know what?"

Jamie stood immobile. He longed to soothe her, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to be touched yet, so he waited even though he was slowly dying inside to hold her in his arms.

Her inhale became stuttered, and her eyes darkened with defeat. "I was grasping at straws to keep Mary to sit still long enough to extract a measly one thousand seven hundred words worth of work when I know she could do more in a day. But that's all I got for my efforts because she was too busy galavanting in Inverness with Tom. And speaking of Tom, I still haven't managed to make him sign the contract for his book and when my boss asked me why I couldn't even give him an answer and gave him some lame excuse. The only good thing that came out of Tom is, he convinced Mary to come here. If Tom hadn't been with me, I'd still be in Inverness with Mary. And now ...now I find out Geneva tried to kiss you while I was away. God, I want to scratch her eyes out. But I can't do that, can I? Because she isn't here. So I asked you those dumb questions to find a fault and start a fight because I wanted to vent after the last few days I've had. But even that, I can't do because you've done nothing wrong." She let out a groan of exasperation. "How sad is that?"

Suddenly, it all made sense to Jamie. Claire always put others' needs before hers with no thought for herself. He had to take better care of her. It had been easy to rest all his hopes and fears on her shoulders, and because of it, she was a massive part of his motivation to want more out of his future and be a better man for them. But if they were going to be together, his condition shouldn't always be her fight, and her burdens should be lighter with him by her side and not more. This lass had given him hope, and he's not going to rest until he gave her the same. Until she, too, knew her needs were just as important as everyone else's.

The boyfriend in him wanted to wipe the look of upset in her eyes. Confront the people that pushed her to act out in a way so unlike her usual self. Demand answers to find out what else was troubling her. He sensed, however, that questioning was the last thing she needed. So doing his best to be the protector this time, he opened his arms, relieved when she quietly walked into them. She laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he held her, resting his chin on her crown.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke haltingly. "I'm so sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to pick a fight. It's just that ...." Her fingers tugged at the edge of his jeans, and he shut his eyes. He could hear the slight slur in her words, making him realise she'd drank tequila on an empty stomach. "The last few days have been mad, and I -I ...oh, hell, never mind. I'm just acting pathetic."

Jamie frowned against her head. "Sassenach, look at me." He drew slightly away and held the sides of her face in her hands, the unshed tears in her eyes crushing him to the core of his being. "First of all, ye have nothing to be sorry about. If anything, Tom, Mary, yer boss, my sister, including myself, owe ye an apology. And ye're no' pathetic and dinnae ever say that about yersel', ever again. Ye do far too much for others, including me, and it's about time ye did something for ye. The rest of the world can wait, and other people getting their act together is no' yer responsibility."

She blew out a breath, bright amber eyes holding his steady.

"As for Geneva, ye have nothing to worry about her. There was never anything between us. I'll talk to my sister and let her know what her friend has done. If Jenny refuses to do anything about it, I will make a formal complaint about Geneva's behaviour to the clinic's head myself. And perhaps, propose a new or my old therapist be reinstated."

"Jamie, I can't be responsible ..."

"Ssshh, Sassenach. Ye're no' responsible for Geneva. She overstepped the boundaries, so it's only right she takes responsibility for her own actions." He pressed their foreheads together and looked her in the eyes. "I chose to be with ye as ye did with me, and I cannae have anyone disrespecting that, no' even Jenny. We're together, and we're supposed to be stronger as a unit. I need to step up my game and be there for ye as ye've been for me. For so long, I was so fixated on my own condition, I ceased seeing other people's difficulties." He pulled back and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Then I met ye, my feisty wee, Sassenach ...for the second time as a grown-up ...and ye taught me all about selflessness and courage. I want ye to know ye're important ...more important than what I want or what Mary Hawkins wants or what yer boss wants. And the things that hurt ye, they're no less painful than what I go through. Things are gonnae change from now on, and it can't be just all about me. I'm so sorry for abandoning ye and for not being there when ye needed me most."

The worst of the troubled look in her expression faded and was replaced by a wobbly smile. "There's nothing to forgive. We were both trying our best to deal with circumstances that were beyond our control."

He smoothed her hair back, picking up the locks and twining his fingers through them. "No, ye were doing all the heavy lifting. Every moment ye spent with me was a trial of fortitude ye were too stubborn not to meet. It would have been easy for ye to give up on me, but ye didnae. Ye always thought I was enough despite my shortcomings. Ye taught me second chances, and because of that, I dinnae want to believe anymore I deserve no' to have ye." He took a deep breath. "I thought my realisation came too late when I thought ye were with Tom, and I was willing to go at any lengths to win ye back and make ye see what we have is worth fighting for. After what I did out there tonight, I ken I'll be teased for the rest of my life for singing like a fool at the village square, but it's all worth it because I get another chance with ye."

"Another chance with me? I never left you, Jamie. I may have been miffed and hurt, but I've always been yours."

He shook his head, more at the error of his ways. "Deep down, I ken that but the mere thought of Tom with ye, all reason and logic seem to fly out the window. In the future, I promise to keep those thoughts at bay. It's no' good for my sanity." He smiled at her. "Shall we kiss and make up?"

Laughing, tears spilt from her eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

The urgency that had been building up inside him went off like a gunshot. He drew her in closer. "Christ, I love you, Sassenach and always will." His mouth descended over hers, impressing his vow with a thorough tasting of her lips, savouring the earthy, semi-sweet taste of tequila on her tongue. His thumbs traced her cheekbones and jawline, and when she swayed closer, and the softness of her breasts flattened against his chest, he let out an animalistic groan.

His heart started to pound, every muscle south of his belt tightening. It was as though he'd been in a dry spell for five years instead of five days. His mouth went dry, his palms itched with the need to touch her naked skin, and his body was on fire as the pent-up desire from the past few days burst in a torrent of heat. He was ravenous for her taste and for her hand to encircle his hardness, and he indulged in her eager response that was opposite her usual shyness during lovemaking.

Restless fingers tangled into his hair, clasping his head in place as she kissed him back and met his demand with urgency. When her hips impatiently pressed against him, her scent invading his senses, his cock grew uncomfortably heavy.

He dragged his mouth from hers, twisting her hair in his fist. "Jesus, if ye dinnae take it down a notch, I'll burst in my pants like a schoolboy."

She blinked as if coming from a long sleep, her lips wet and puffy from his kisses and cheeks bright pink. She gave him a slow smile that promised unspoken pleasures, sending his heart up to his mouth. "Not my fault," she hummed, going up on her toes to teasingly brush her mouth over his. "You made me wait this long." Maintaining eye contact, she took a step back and stripped off her clothes, revealing her matching red bra and panty. "So enough talk, Jamie. I can't wait much more. I want you now," she whispered huskily.

Her words did it. His lust-filled brain only gave him a split second to process what she'd just said before the need to be inside her dismissed everything else. That urge he'd felt to make up for lost time raced out of control. He could only see Claire with her dazed eyes, parted lips and loads of naked skin.

He seized her hips, walking her backwards and crowding her against the dining table, pushing the chairs aside to make space. Her breath rose and fell in a choppy rhythm as his mouth dipped for a desperate kiss.

Her mouth moved in perfect unison with his, wee sounds vibrating up her throat, ending where their lips frantically worked together. Lust pumping in his veins, he roughly settled her sweet bottom on the table and gingerly hooked his fingers into the lacey band of her knickers, shoving it down her legs. When she began tugging at the waistband of his jeans, he groaned into her mouth, knowing she needed him just as bad.

"I planned to make slow love to ye tonight. But now I cannae ...because I cannae wait to have ye." His hand slipped between their bodies, and he palmed her between her thighs. Ah, sweet Jesus! Sliding a finger deep into the wet heat of her entrance, he tested and teased, revelling the way her fingernails dug onto the skin of his shoulders in response, his head spinning at the feel of her moistness. "Christ, ye look so needy, ye're giving me nae choice but to take ye right here ...like a wild beast."

"Oh, shoosh, Jamie. Quit talking about it now. You want it just as bad." She began to undo his belt buckle, nipping at his neck as she yanked and shoved. When he was finally freed, he nearly fainted at the relief of no longer being restrained to his jeans. The relief was fleeting, though, when her smooth hands encircled his throbbing cock, her tight grip moving up and down, twisting at the base, preparing him when the only thing he needed was to be inside her. Ah, Christ, but it feels so good. Far too good ...

He couldn't take it anymore. He knew he wouldn't last long. "Enough!" he gritted.

She gave him a look like he'd just taken her favourite toy. She unhooked her bra in retaliation and pushed her breasts up like an offering. His breath caught in his throat, stunned by the vision, her eyes, a translucent gold gleaming with arousal, beckoning him to take his fill.

He parted her legs and fisted his cock before rubbing its tip at her entrance. "I've missed ye so much. I might not last long, but I want this to be good for ye," he whispered hoarsely. "I may be a bit rough," He dipped his head, forcing her back to arch like a bow as he bestowed kisses on her breasts. "Are ye alright with that?"

She nodded, feeling her shudder with anticipation and need.

"Is that what ye want?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Take me however you want."

He whipped off his top and lowered his hand to her buttock, coasting his palm over the firm, rounded flesh and squeezing it tight. "Wrap yer legs around me."

Claire's legs wrapped around his middle and her arms around his neck. Her thighs glid around his waist with such exquisite perfection that he had to bite the tender flesh on the side of her neck to stop from shouting. The friction of his cock sliding between her legs where he'd touched with his fingers was too much. Almost propelling him past his breaking point. Too impatient to take the time to savour, he gripped himself and pushed deep into her entrance.

Watching her teeth bite onto her bottom lip as if to stop a scream from escaping, he groaned out loud as he pushed inch by inch, his focus whittling down to Claire and the heat enveloping his cock. Everything ceased to exist. He pulled out slightly before thrusting again, their mutual moans resounding on the walls of the cottage.

He shifted closer, needing to feel and touch all of her as possible. Keeping their lips locked, he seized her hips and started to move to the ancient dance of mating. There were no words to express the rough, grinding pace of what he did to her. It only bloomed more intense when she began matching his moves, widening her thighs and rolling her hips like she couldn't get enough.

"Oh sweet Lord, ye feel too good," he muttered against her mouth, hips pounding furiously. "How did I stay away from this?"

She gripped the back of his neck. "I missed this too," she gasped. "Please don't stop."

"I'm not hurting ye, am I? Tell me if I'm too rough."

"No ...no, don't be gentle. I need you to take me hard."

A tide surged inside him, mounting and building like a storm. Jamie roughly raised her hips to reposition her, dragging her arse to the edge of the table, her sweet moans telling him she'd like that. Unable to think past how she wanted it harder, there was no easing down now. He could only yank her leg higher and demand she keep up, ramming into her rough and fast. Her sighs and breath came out like hot rushes of air, thighs squeezing around him and starting to tremble. When her internal walls clenched around his cock, it warned him of her imminent climax, making his balls drew up so tight they ached. He dragged her flush to his body and buried his face in her neck, grunting with every deep thrust and muttering her name while his own release clamoured in his belly.

"Jamie!" she screamed, convulsing against him. He immediately silenced her cries with a deep kiss, but she flung her head back and squirmed, tightening up where their bodies joined, pulsing and throbbing. "Oh my God."

He couldn't wait any longer. Hooking his arms under her legs, he pumped his hardness in jerky hauls, faster and faster until his visions blurred. The whimpering noises she made launched him higher, signalling his own peak, and he soared towards it, his climax made more intense from the knowledge that it was Claire who got him there. He thrust into her one final time and thrust deep, growling her name into her hair and squashing her to his chest as he'd borne the full force of what they'd done.

"Oh, Christ, Sassenach."

Her hands ran up and down his back as she continued to take huge gulps of air. He knew he was crushing her, but he wasn't ready to let go. He wanted to remain buried inside her, holding her like this. With her heels digging into his arse and her arms around his neck. They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ! Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

He was about to say "none of her business" when Claire came up behind him, dressed back in her jeans and top. "Mrs Fitz, how are you? Is everything alright?"

Jamie stepped back and observed how Mrs Fitz's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. He figured instantly, his neighbour must have seen that kiss from Geneva earlier and that she'd probably thought the worse of him after hearing Claire's passionate screams. Right there and then, he decided, this time, he definitely needed to soundproof his home from eavesdropping neighbours.

"Ach, I saw light in yer windows," Mrs Fitz beamed, ignoring Jamie's glare. "Ye see, I've made too many pies and thought ye might like one. I remember ye enjoying this when ye stayed with yer friend over at my place this past Christmas."

"Oh, how lovely," Claire gushed, taking the plate from Mrs Fitz. "Thank you so much. Just what Jamie and I need right now ..." She blushed profusely, contemplating her words. "...after a long day."

Mrs Fitz clapped her hands. "I thought that!"

Seeing how thrilled Claire was looking at the desert, Jamie tamped down the urge to say something sarcastic and just scowled at her.

Mrs Fitz must have read his thoughts as this time it was her turn to crimson, a probable sign of her guilt for being nosey. Suddenly at a loss for words, she rubbed her palms at her sides. "Weel, ye both enjoy it. I must get going as it's rather late. Good night, both of ye." With that, she whirled around and disappeared into the night.

He shut the door and sighed, and followed Claire to the kitchen.

"Lovely lady," Claire remarked, sniffing the pie before placing it on the counter.

He turned her around and kissed her slowly, groaning when she opened her mouth for him without hesitation. "Ye're lovelier," he said against her lips. "But I'm not done with ye yet."

She grinned. "Pie first?"

Realising he'd never be able to compete with Mrs Fitz's homemade pie, he laughed out loud. "Absolutely ...why not?"

Dear Readers,

Well, here you go, their reunion! I hope you've enjoyed this lust-filled chapter. I must admit, though, when I was editing the sex part, I deliberately drank Bloody Mary to lose a bit of inhibition and make the scene a bit grittier. I hope it worked, but if it's too dirty for you, I say tough! 😆 Just kidding!

Anyway, thank you for commenting and showing your appreciation for my writing and your well wishes. I don't always reply back but be assured, your feedback is very much appreciated and anticipated.

And before I forget, it's not long now before this arc finishes. There will be an arc three, and I will let you know more on my next update.

Signing off now and wishing you a fabulous weekend. Stay safe and always take care! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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organized-chaos-85 · 3 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Girl Meets World, Boy Meets World Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jack Hunter/Eric Matthews (Boy Meets World) Characters: Eric Matthews (Boy Meets World), Jack Hunter, Cory Matthews, Topanga Lawrence-Matthews, Shawn Hunter, George Feeny, Alan Matthews, Amy Matthews, Riley Matthews, Maya Hart, August "Auggie" Matthews, Josh Matthews (Girl Meets World), Angela Moore, Rachel McGuire Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Film Noir, Gumshoe, Wee Hawkin Willie, Dreams, Soulmates, Post-Episode: s2e13 Girl Meets Semi-Formal, Boy Meets World References, Episode: s7e20 As Time Goes By (Boy Meets World) Summary:

"However, for a long time, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing in his life… Much like Alice falling down the rabbit hole to find her Wonderland, Eric found himself dozing off into his own alternate dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind, one that he has visited before."

#my bff wrote this story #fka boymeetshitposts #boy meets world #girl meets world #fanfic #eric matthews #jack hunter #eric x jack #jack x eric #jeric

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basketcase1880 · 5 years

Text

So, when @moghraidhjamie posted about the Christmas Fic Exchange, I jumped at the chance because I needed something to distract me from uni work. However, my RL drama has put me off schedule and I am a bit behind. I am planning on completing the posts on tumblr over the weekend and then posting the story on AO3 next week.

My allocated companion was @ladyviolethummingbird who requested a modern AU of Jamie and Claire being their amazing selves with not much angst, so here’s my interpretation of this.

I hope you love your present my dear, love your Secret Santa xx

Near and Dear

Summary: Claire is friends with Jenny at university, unfortunately, Claire doesn’t have any family to spend Christmas with, so Jenny invites Claire to spend Christmas with her family. Enter one James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser (and a little boy with curls to rival her own) and Claire suddenly feels her life has been lacking a LOT of things.

CHAPTER 1

Having no family, Claire found it easy to leave her life in Oxford behind and move to Glasgow to begin her life over as a nursing student. At twenty-five she would be considered a “mature” student, but she had been caring for her uncle until his death after she left high school. She moved into the university’s halls of residence and couldn’t wait to start her course. Luckily for her, two of her fellow flatmates were also studying nursing, although one, Mary Hawkins, was studying child nursing and the other, Geilis Duncan, was studying mental health nursing, while Claire was specialising in learning disabilities. But by the looks of their timetables, they didn’t share any classes.

During Fresher’s Week, Claire signed up for the university’s choir and familiarised herself with the campus, she had no plans to join any other social groups as she wanted to focus solely on her studies, she had heard that the nursing course could be quite full on. The choir held a “come and try” session on the Wednesday of Fresher’s Week, so she went along to it. Here she made another friend, Janet “Call me Jenny” Fraser. Jenny was another “mature” student studying Social Sciences with an aim of going on to be a teacher and stayed in a flat on Sauchiehall Street that belonged to her parents. She was originally from a small village in the Scottish Highlands and was one of four.

“There’s four of us in total,” Jenny had told Claire over coffee after choir. “Willie’s the oldest, then there’s me, Jamie’s next and then there’s Rabbie. What about you?”

“There’s only me,” Claire explained solemnly. “My parents died when I was young, and I’ve spent the last few years caring for my uncle who had cancer.”

“Och, weel, I’ve got too many men in my life,” Jenny said with a comforting smile. “I’ve got a space in my life for a sister.”

Claire gave Jenny a watery smile, she was grateful for this wonderful woman who had come into her life and she was sure she would be lost without her, despite only knowing her a few hours.

Over the twelve weeks of their first trimester at university, Claire and Jenny became almost inseparable. Yes, they were studying two completely different courses, but they would help each other study and proofread each other’s work to make sure it made sense, especially when they were written in the wee small hours fuelled by coffee and sugar.

“What are yer plans for Christmas?” Jenny had asked Claire one Wednesday as they waited on their choirmaster to arrive.

“I was just going to hang about the dorms,” Claire said. “Finish essays and study some anatomy and physiology.”

“Nonsense!” Jenny exclaimed. “Yer coming wi’ me tae Beauly. I’ve already spoke to me mam and da about it and they’re lookin’ forward tae meetin’ ye.”

“Are you sure I’m not imposing on your family?” Claire asked. “I mean, Christmas is all about family…”

“An’ yer my sister,” Jenny jumped in with. “Besides, my mam and da have somehow acquired another son. An orphan lad they met in Paris called Claudel, although Jamie calls ‘im Fergus because ‘no that’s no a name ye’d gie a boy growing up in the Scottish Highlands’ apparently.”

“If you’re sure…” Claire said hesitantly.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Jenny said as she hugged Claire. “An’ I got word today, Ian’s getting leave this Christmas, so ye’ll get to meet him too, although I’ve still to tell mam about that.”

#outlander fanfic #christmas fic exchange #jamie x claire #my first outlander fic #outlander secret santa 2018 #ladyviolethummingbird

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de-salva · 5 years

Link

Personnel:

Charlie Shavers - trumpet J.C.Higginbotham - trombone Pee Wee Russell - clarinet Coleman Hawkins - tenor saxophone Lester Young - tenor saxophone Willie "The Lion" Smith - piano Harry Shepherd - vibraphone Dick Thompson - guitar Vinnie Burke - bass Sonny Greer - drums

#Lester Young #Lester Prez Young #Coleman Hawkins

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elcinelateleymickyandonie · 3 years

Text

Clyde Cook.

Filmografía

- Su única oportunidad (1918)

- Soldiers of Fortune (1919) - (sin acreditar)

- Faldas (1921) - Peter Rocks Jr.

- El que recibe una bofetada (1924) - A Clown (sin acreditar)

- ¿Entonces esto es matrimonio? (1924) - Sr.Brown

- ¿Deberían casarse los marineros? (1925, breve) - Cyril D'Armond

- ¿A qué viene el mundo? (1926, Corto) - Claudia, el novio ruborizado / el bebé

- Papas errantes (1926, breve) - Camp Cook

- Domadores de esposas (1926, breve) - El mayordomo

- Señorita nadie (1926) - Bertie

- El triunfo de Barbara Worth (1926) - Tex

- Oro blanco (1927) - Homer

- El bruto (1927) - Oklahoma Red

- Los escaladores (1927) - Pancho Mendoza

- Hermana simple (1927) - Jerry O'Grady

- Alambre de púas (1927) - Hans

- La liga de Bush (1927) - Skeeter McKinnon

- La novia de un marinero (1927) - Sandy McTavish

- Buen tiempo Charley (1927) - Bill Collins

- Cuidado con los hombres casados (1928) - Botts

- Problemas domésticos (1928) - James Bullard / Horace Bullard

- Paga lo que ingresas (1928) - Clyde Jones

- Cinco y diez centavos Annie (1928) - Elmer Peck

- Los muelles de Nueva York (1928) - 'Sugar' Steve

- A través de los rompedores (1928) - John Lancaster

- Celebridad (1928) - Circo

- Cuidado con los solteros (1928) - Joe Babbitt

- Interferencia (1928) - Conductor de coche fúnebre

- The Spieler (1928) - Luke también conocido como 'Perfesser' McIntosh

- Capitán Lash (1929) - Cocky

- Chico fuerte (1929) - Pete

- Una mujer peligrosa (1929) - Tubbs

- Mascarada (1929) - Blkodgett

- En los titulares (1929) - Linterna

- La fierecilla domada (1929) - Grumio

- Oficial O'Brien (1930) - Limo Lewis

- Mujeres en todas partes (1930) - Sam Jones

- El tipo Wrangler (1930) - Pinkey Fripp

- La patrulla del amanecer (1930) - Bott

- Alas de aventura (1930) - Pete 'Skeets' Smith

- Soleado (1930) - Sam

- La marcha del tiempo (1930) - Él mismo

- Amanecer (1931) - Josef

- Nunca los Twain se encontrarán (1931) Porter

- El testigo secreto (1931) - Larson -Ingeniero de construcción

- Blondie of the Follies (1932) - Bailarina

- Oeste de Singapur (1933) - Ricky

- Oliver Twist (1933) - Chitling

- Choque (1934) - Hawkins

- The Informer (1935) - Flash Patron (sin acreditar).

Cálmate (1935) - Joe

- El obispo se porta mal (1935) - Patrono de la misión que lidera la búsqueda de Frenchy (sin acreditar).

- Costa de Berbería (1935) - Oakie

- El ángel blanco (1936) - Perkins, a Soldier (sin acreditar)

- Tugboat Princess (1936) - Steve, el ingeniero

- Bulldog Drummond escapa (1937) - Alf

- Otro amanecer (1937) - Sgt. Murphy

- Wee Willie Winkie (1937) - Pipe Major Sneath

- Souls at Sea (1937) - Hendry -Coachman (sin acreditar)

- Amor bajo el fuego (1937) - Bert

- Cien hombres y una niña (1937) - Oscar - Hombre en restaurante (sin acreditar)

- Lancer Spy (1937) - Orderly (sin acreditar)

- El peligro de Bulldog Drummond (1938) Constable Sacker

- Secuestrado (1938) - Cocinero - Grasa

- Mysterious Mr. Moto (1938) - Sandwich Man (sin acreditar)

- La tormenta (1938) - Tailor (sin acreditar)

- Tormenta sobre Bengala (1938) - Alf

- Arrest Bulldog Drummond (1939) - Constable Sacker

- La pequeña princesa (1939) - Asistente

- La policía secreta de Bulldog Drummond (1939) - Constable Hawkins

- Bulldog Drummond's Bride (1939) -Agente de control de tráfico (sin acreditar)

- Empaca tus problemas (1939) - British Guard (sin acreditar)

- La luz que falló (1939) - Soldier (sin acreditar)

- Wolf of New York (1940) - Jenkins (sin acreditar)

- El halcón marino (1940) - Walter Boggs

- Dance, Girl, Dance (1940) - Claude - Valet de Harris (sin acreditar)

- Sargento York (1941) - Cockney Soldier (sin acreditar)

- Damas en retiro (1941) - Bates

- Tío inesperado (1941) - Cantante de la banda de Johnny (sin acreditar)

- Sospecha (1941) - Fotógrafo (sin acreditar)

- Furia de Klondike (1942) - Yukon

- This Above All (1942) - Conductor de camión (sin acreditar)

- Contraespionaje (1942) - Hot Chestnuts Huckster (sin acreditar)

- White Cargo (1942) - Ted - Primer oficial de la Reina del Congo

- Para siempre y un día (1943) - Cabby

- El doctor misterioso (1943) - Herbert (sin acreditar)

- El hombre de Down Under (1943) - Ginger Gaffney

- Follow the Boys (1944) - Stooge (sin acreditar)

- Los acantilados blancos de Dover (1944) - Jennings (sin acreditar)

- Para cada uno lo suyo (1946) - Mr.Harkett

- El veredicto (1946) - Barney Cole.

Bulldog Drummond at Bay (1947) - Hotel Clerk (sin acreditar)

- Al vencedor (1948) - Cockney Bartender

Espada en el desierto (1949) - Sentry (sin acreditar)

- When Willie Comes Marching Home (1950) - Tarjack (sin acreditar)

- Orgullo de Maryland (1951) - Fred Leach

- Marcha del pícaro (1953) - Pescador (sin acreditar)

- Loose in London (1953) - taxista inglés

The Maze (1953) - Cab Driver (sin acreditar)

- Abbott y Costello conocen al Dr. Jekyll y al Sr.Hyde (1953) - Borracho en un pub (sin acreditar)

- Arrecife de Donovan (1963) - Oficial australiano (sin acreditar) (papel final de la película).

Créditos: Tomado de Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clyde_Cook_(actor)

#HONDURASQUEDATEENCASA

#ELCINELATELEYMICKYANDONIE

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mosaicrecords · 6 years

Video

youtube

Lester Young & Coleman Hawkins: Jumpin' with Symphony Sid

This all-star assemblage takes on Jumpin' With Symphony Sid. on the September 25, 1958 Art Ford Jazz Party: Charlie Shavers, trumpet; J C Higginbotham, trombone; Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, tenor sax; Pee Wee Russell, clarinet; Harry Sheppard, vibraphone; Willie "The Lion" Smith, piano; Dickie Thompson, guitar; Vinnie Burke, bass; Sonny Greer, drums.

-Michael Cuscuna

Follow: Mosaic Records Facebook Tumblr Twitter

#Lester Young #Coleman Hawkins #trad & big band

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chrismalcolmhnd2c · 4 years

Text

Doorstep Portrait

©Annie Dresner

©Julie Michaelsen

“In time of test, family is best.” – Burmese Proverb.

Research the Narrative

In your workbook or blog, research Social Portraiture. There will be further tasks and support through the Contextual Studies class.

Tell the Story

Organise a group shot that will involve a minimum of three people.

Following restrictions imposed by lock down, photographers have been finding neW and inivitave ways to continue their practice of social photograhy, and in turn documenting the current situation.

You may interpret this brief in a variety of ways however the end product should display a group of sitters photographed safely on location.

The location will be the sitter’s residence or work place however consider the best place at the location to photograph the sitters. Windows, doorstep, garden shed? Have fun with the posing.

Good location, controlled lighting, co-ordinated styling, effective communication, and effective posing/composition will all add to the ‘experience’ for your sitters.

A parental consent form should also be created when any members of your group are under 16.

Edit and refine: Complete worksheet

These images should be of a quality suitable for a private client to purchase and print, retouching flaws, great composition, sharp and properly exposed.

Submission: One Final A3 folio print ready canvas with 2 significantly different images of the same group.

Initial research for Social Portraiture for “White Shirt”

https://chrismalcolmhnd2c.tumblr.com/tagged/white

Further research on Doorstep Portraiture

Coronavirus: Doorstep photo diaries capture life in lockdown

Published 21 May 2020

Magnus and Jenny have enjoyed spending more time together during the coronavirus lockdown.

Over the last eight weeks doorstep photos have provided some of the enduring images of Scotland's lockdown.

Families, couples and housemates are having socially-distant photographs taken at their front doors in an effort to record these unusual times.

Among those following the trend to create snapshots of modern life is Glasgow photographer Caro Weiss.

"I now have more than 100 shoots booked over the next four weeks," she said.

"I've done a great mix of people, artists, makers, couples, people with dogs, kids. I have been booked for an anniversary shoot, a 'should have been our wedding day' shoot, birthdays, and ones that friends have booked for their friends to cheer them up if they are finding it really tough.

"I can't wait to meet everyone. It's the highlight of my days now."

We asked some of her subjects to tell us about their lockdown experience.

Alison and Willie McBride

Alison and Willie McBride, both in their 60s, can't do their regular jobs at the moment.

"We've recently moved to this flat which fortunately has its own private garden which we are thankful for during lockdown and we spend time there reading and playing Scrabble. We sent our doorstep photos to our daughter and family living in America and our son, daughter-in-law and another daughter living in Manchester. We are trying to face this crisis with quiet resilience and the photos show a sense of being in it together and looking after each other."

Susanne Bell and Stephen Gallagher

Musicians Susanne Bell and Stephen Gallagher wanted to document lockdown with a growing bump.

"I'm currently 36 weeks pregnant and we wanted some photographs to document our lockdown with our growing bump! We've not been able to visit friends and family for three months now so we're really missing seeing them and showing off the baby bump. We are both musicians who play in bands and teach music so we are working from home with Stephen's son Johannes who is 12. We've been really lucky to have lots of musical instruments and projects to keep us busy. Stephen is in a band called Scaramanga and has been writing, recording (remotely) and releasing new music."

Jenny McLean and son Magnus

Jenny, 38, wanted to record Magnus' sixth birthday during the lockdown.

"We're coping well - we face Queen's Park, so we never feel too isolated with all the people coming and going for their daily exercise. We've kept busy through a combination of juggling work, craft projects, schoolwork and a worsening online shopping habit (I bought a 1960s swimsuit the other day… when I'm next going swimming, I have no idea!). We've been lucky to stay healthy throughout. It was Magnus's sixth birthday at the weekend so it seemed the perfect way to remember his day, and a time where - amidst the pandemic - I've felt really lucky to have more time with him, away from our usual busy lives."

Barbara Smith, Chris Macfarlane, Innes and Ishbel

Barbara, 37, Chris, 38, and their children Innes, 6, and Ishbel, 4, loved their "daft" photos.

"We are so pleased with our photos, they're so informal and more than a wee bit daft. Kids get big so quickly, it's a real treat to have a record of this time, even if it has been quite intense in parts! We are all healthy and enjoying having more family time, although I'm not sure I'm quite cut out for home schooling. I'm a wedding florist, so my business has been affected drastically, everything is either cancelled or postponed. Which at least means that I am able to take on childcare now that Chris has to work from home. He is a college tutor and is having to adapt to teaching his students online."

Cecilia Stamp, Greg Paterson and Leo

Cecilia Stamp is looking after her mum in nearby sheltered housing and has lost a family member to the virus.

"I'm a jeweller and I don't have full access to my workshop at the moment so I have been working as best I can but I really miss my workspace - especially as there's equipment I don't have at home. One of my main priorities has been looking after my mum who lives nearby in sheltered housing, doing food shops for her etc, as she can't go out. We've had a family member die from the virus down south, which was a huge shock as he was in good health, so it's been especially difficult for her too. We couldn't go to the funeral and trying to sort things remotely was a challenge."

Kenji Kitahama and Till Stowasser

Till, 42 and Kenji, 44, are both working from home.

"We're hanging in there and trying to make the best of the situation. We're very lucky in that both Till and I are able to work from home. Till is a professor and has been holding all of his lectures online since the beginning of March. I'm a bookbinder who makes bespoke photo albums and books. I run my small business from my home studio, so the lockdown hasn't affected my daily work routine a great deal. However, this is a time when I'm usually busy making wedding albums but since all of these celebrations have been cancelled or rescheduled, it's been a bit quieter. We're so grateful for all the frontline workers and of course, the postal service—who are making it possible to keep my little business afloat."

The McGarrigles

Eamon, 40 Claire, 40, Nancy, 5, and one-year-old Nena are getting used to sharing their space a lot more.

"We are currently adapting to the new way of life with Eamon now working from home. I'm no longer able to work as my place of work is temporarily closed due to Covid-19, so I am now attempting to be a home school teacher to Nancy who was in P1. We are missing our families and friends so much as we are both from Northern Ireland originally and have no family here in Glasgow. Our kids keep us sane and drive us mad in equal measures. I hope they will remember this time in their lives as the time we all got to hang out more, baked cakes, clapped with all our wonderful neighbours on a Thursday night and painted rainbows."

Terri Hawkins and Ernst

Terri Hawkins, 31 and Ernst Wolf, 2, have a flat full of flowers.

"I am a florist and rely mainly on weddings and events, so my business has been hugely affected. Me and my partner Angus fell through the cracks for government funding so we had major money panics. My business was the only way we could earn money, so we turned our living room into a dried flower workshop and came up with these flower arranging kits that people can make at home using dried flowers. They are great and keeping the whole family just afloat right now! Angus has started working for me, he's in charge of the logistics, computer stuff, ordering and I do all the making.

"Our house is a mess filled with flowers, our poor two-year-old has to watch TV every morning whilst we frantically work, we try and get it all done for lunch time then spend the day playing with our son Ernst! The online flower shop has been our families saviour, we are extremely grateful."

The Evans family - Mhairi, Maeve and Joe

Mhairi, 35, Joe, 36 and Maeve (who will be six next week) have made the best of a bad situation.

"Joe and I are working from home and juggling home schooling. We've all been lucky to be quite well but did have some mild symptoms near the beginning so went through isolation. It's pretty full on. Some days are fun, some days are really hard and we've all been up and down. Maeve is beginning to really miss her friends and her school. We're just trying to make the best of it but we miss our families and friends a lot. I have so much respect for all key workers and I'm happy to stay at home for as long as we have to if that keeps them safe."

Hazel Jane and George Windsor

Hazel Jane, 23 and Dr George Windsor, 29, had only moved in together in February and say their lockdown was a "cohabitation of fire".

"We're both lucky enough to continue working full-time from home throughout lockdown and we do this by rotating spaces between the kitchen table and the sofa. Neither of us have shown any symptoms so it's been a smooth ride in that sense, but we have certainly suffered the mental health dips that come with quarantine and won't be unhappy to see the end of it. We moved in together in February so this has been a cohabitation baptism of fire. Also, these are not the haircuts we went into quarantine with. Mine is now considerably longer, while George's DIY cut leaves lots to be desired."

Claire Jonston-Dawson, John and Eddy

Claire, 33, John, 30 and Eddy, 2 have enjoyed more time together in their "flat bubble".

"We co-own a tiny pizza restaurant with a friend, so life is completely different for us in lockdown as we are closed right now, and have been since mid-March. It has had its ups and downs, as we, like so many others, still wait to find out what financial help we're getting for our business, but restaurant aside we've adjusted to slower, much simpler days and getting to hang out together. And we know we are some of the lucky ones in this situation, so really just spend our days swinging from guilt to gratitude for our small but cosy flat bubble, to being overwhelmed and angry at the UK government."

Source: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-52706375

Further Research

Photographers taking 'doorstep portraits' capture candid picture of life in lockdown from Kent's towns and villages

By Sean Delaney

Published: 27 May 2020

Photographers across Kent are taking candid shots of households on their doorsteps in a bid to document precious family memories and drum up funds for the NHS.

The industry was among those hardest hit by the lockdown restrictions as studios, weddings and other public places were all deemed out of bounds.

Couple Charlie and Lauren Moore in Snodland Photo: Strawberry Photography

But now so-called "doorstep photoshoots" are providing families with the chance to capture some priceless memories during these difficult times.

It has also afforded snappers a safe space in which to engage with clients and neighbours while also bringing in some much needed cash for their businesses and the health service.

New mum Sarah Hunt is currently running her business Strawberry Photography from her home in Snodland.

The 32-year-old usually focusses on weddings but as these have all now been rescheduled until next year the doorstep project has been providing a new outlet in-between caring for her three month old daughter Margot.

Each session is conducted outside and in line with government guidelines on the two metre distance, although in reality Sarah says it’s closer to four or five metres because of the quality of her camera lens.

Tony Legg and Jane Pullinger-Legg who is a nurse assessor in the NHS Photo: Strawberry Photography

"It was a little bit slow at first. I think people couldn't quite grasp the idea of how it worked," she said.

Work soon began to pick up and Sarah has been booked in for various sessions around Snodland which she times around her baby's feeds.

"These have been a lot of fun and gone down really well," she said. "My approach is very relaxed and informal which enables me to create real and candid photos."

"I was doing virtual shoots and these were okay but they are just not the same as getting out and taking photos".

Sarah has snapped everyone from a funeral director to a nurse assessor and her pet pooches.

But a group she has taken shots of regularly is mums-to-be and includes one expecting mum who found out she was pregnant just days before going into lockdown.

Funeral director Gray Reigate, pictured with wife Zoe, daughter Molly and Boris the boxer Photo: Strawberry Photography

She said: "As well as family photoshoots, I have also photographed mums to be which has been so great as many of them have been in lockdown since the start of their pregnancies, so this has been a lovely way for them to show off their bumps.

"Otherwise there is going to be people being like 'oh my god' you're pregnant.

"Adapting my business to be able to create these images for people in these unprecedented times has been extremely rewarding – It's also great to just get back out there with my camera."

Payment is collected through contactless means and £5 from every shoot is donated to the NHS.

Sarah is also part of a team of Kent wedding suppliers who are putting on a wedding worth £35,000 for one lucky NHS worker.

The competition is the brainchild of Lou Finn, owner of Ashford-based Bake To The Future who has brought together 52 suppliers to donate their services for free.

The Champion family photo: Estelle Thompson Photography

Another photographer who has been doing her part for the NHS is Sevenoaks-based Estelle Thompson.

The 46-year-old has been capturing a frank snapshot of what lockdown life has been like in the small village of Fawkham in Longfield.

Estelle's calendar would usually be booked up with weddings and baby shoots at this time.

But when the Coronavirus struck her business Estelle Photography ground to a halt and as a self-employed worker says she did not qualify for government relief.

She wrote on her blog: "My heart broke every time a bride contacted me to discuss new dates for a wedding that was long awaited and now would be pushed back further."

Scarlett and Harry used the photos to wish their nanny a happy birthday, as they couldn't be with her. Photo: Estelle Thompson Photography

The snapper filled her time taking shots of her dogs and birds on the garden feeder but said nothing could match up to the joy of "capturing the personalities and cheeky smiles" of people.

"We are never photographers because it pays the bills, we are photographers because we love it," she said.

Estelle noticed people talking about a project in America called "Doorstep portraits" and decided to emulate it in her own tiny village by posting on the Fawkham community Facebook page.

The response was simply overwhelming, she says, with so many people wanting to be photographed – mostly to document what the current time is like for their children.

It was this which was to serve as her main motivator throughout the period, she adds "for those kids to be able to turn around to their own kids and show them this is what it was like".

In return Estelle asked villagers for a £10 pledge to the NHS and has now amassed more than £500 thanks to various generous donations.

Adele Barker is the new priest-in-charge at Saint Marys Photo: Estelle Thompson Photography

She said: "So, I had photographed the village, the people that live here, the rocks and the rainbows.

"It is kind of my gift, to the village that I love, where both my home and my business is."

She recalls how even her husband became a hero in the village after dressing up as a Tyrannosaurus Rex and surprising a three-year-old boy from afar while having his birthday party in lockdown.

The photographer says the idea has since "spiralled" into a time capsule, with her being asked to bury a USB containing some of the doorstep portraits.

She even snapped the new priest Adele Barker who arrived at the local church St Marys in Longfield not long before lockdown.

"So much has changed," she said. "If you look back now the first photo had daffodils, now there is blue bells."

Estelle's husband dressed up as a dinosaur to celebrate neighbour Josh who was celebrating his third birthday in lockdown Photo: Estelle Thompson Photography

But even though she misses her family and friends Estelle says she is incredibly grateful for her village neighbours.

She added: "The community during this time has just been incredible –to have their experience to document."

David and Jemma Rannard of Click:Create Rannard's Photography and Design have been offering to take family portraits outside homes but also to record important events during lockdown.

David said: "The family photos have really taken off. It is a way for people to keep in touch during these terrible times.

"When we realised people were making the effort to stage VE Day parties at home we thought it could be a natural extension of what we do."

David and Jemma Rannard and daughter Eva of Click:Create at Iwade offering VE Day photos on your doorstep

Wife Jemma, a graphic designer, is usually on hand and the couple now have an apprentice in the shape of their nine-year-old daughter Eva.

The couple charge £20 for a 10-minute photo shoot and donate £5 to the NHS.

It’s an emotional pledge for the family who sadly lost a friend to Covid-19.

And while offers of work are now coming in from different parts of the county the couple say they are having to decline them.

He explained: "It really only started as a bit of a service to villagers in Iwade where we live. We have done a few in Sittingbourne but I didn't think it was right for us to travel too far.

"It really angers me when people don't take this situation seriously and ignore the advice we are being given. The more we all sacrifice now, the quicker it will be over."

Source: https://www.kentonline.co.uk/authors/sean-delaney/

#doorstep

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backatthechickenshack · 5 years

Text

Back at the Chicken Shack 7/24/19 Playlist

WFDU.fm

63rd show

7/24/19

RIP Art Neville

the Meters - Look-a Py Py

Dusty Springfield - Dont Forget about Me

the Radars - Finger Lickin Chicken

Joe Hudson & his Rocking Dukes - Hoo Wee Pretty Baby

the Premiers - Run along Baby

Dennis Edwards - Johnny on the Spot

Johnnie Sayles - I Cant get Enough (of Your Love)

Artie Christopher - Stoned Soul

Lil Johnson - Sam the Hot Dog Man

Butterbeans & Susie - I need a Hot Dog for My Roll

Buck Owens - Hot Dog

Wanda Jackson - Hot Dog! that Made Him Mad

Dale Hawkins - Hot Dog

Hasil Adkins - No More Hot Dogs

Roy Gaines - Switcheroo

Leroy Washington - Learn to Treat Me Better

Don Hollinger - I had a Nightmare

Jimmy Rogers - I Cant Believe

Gatemouth Brown - Depression Blues

Albert Collins - Jawing

Delbert McClinton - Lie No Better

Shirley Walton - the One You Cant Have

Freddie North - She's All I Got

the Meters - Funky Miracle

the Palace Guard - All Night Long

the Brymers - Sacrifice

the Alarm Clocks - No Reason to Complain

Kempy & the Guardians- Love for a Price

Ken & the 4th Dimension - See If I care

Billy Mure - Hawaiian War Dance

the Clash - White Man in Hammersmith Palais

Delroy Wilson - Run Run

Willi Williams - Armageddon Time

the Meters - This is my Last Affair

Jerry Garcia & Merle Saunders - the Harder they Come

http://wfdu2.streamrewind.com/bookmarks/schedule/07-24-2019

#wfdu.fm #back at the chicken shack #wednesday #internet radio #ken struck

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boymeetsworldconfessions · 1 month

Text

ABOUT:

Wee Hawkin Willie is the pianist at Rory's Shangri-La Café. Everyone seems to agree that he doesn't play the piano that well, and he constantly thinks he's come up with a new hit (such as "Forget Your Troubles, Come On Get Happy" what Isaac "Goodshot" Kelly told Trixie and "Hit Me Baby, One More Time" when Rory asks for more coffee), but doubts himself and says, "Nah."

Monique Larson is a scientist who preformed a psychoneurology experiment at John Adams High, basically paying students to sleep while examining their brain waves. Eric was greatly impressed by the flyer, "Earn cash while you sleep," and volunteered for the study.

#boy meets world #boy meets world character bracket round 2 #wee hawkin willie #monique larson

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topworldhistory · 4 years

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The team got their start in Chicago during a time when segregation was pervasive and basketball was not even a well-known game.

For nearly a century, the Harlem Globetrotters have brought flair and antics to the game of basketball. The team has played to more than 148 million people, in over 26,000 exhibition games in 124 countries and territories.

The Harlem Globetrotters began in 1926 as the Savoy Big Five, an African American basketball team who mostly hailed from Wendell Phillips High School in Chicago’s South Side. They first played under the banner of the South Side's Giles Post of the American Legion and then became known as the Savoy Big Five after Chicago’s Bronzeville's Savoy Ballroom hired the team to play as pre-dance entertainment. For Midwest audiences, the game of basketball was still novel and, from early on, this team brought an entertaining style of play to the sport.

The Harlem Globetrotters began in 1926 as the Savoy Big Five, an African American basketball team who mostly hailed from Wendell Phillips High School in Chicago’s South Side. The team was renamed the Harlem Globetrotters in 1930 to link the squad with the neighborhood known as the mecca of black culture.These portraits show team members in 1931.

View the 14 images of this gallery on the original article

Seizing on a golden opportunity, sports promoter Abe Saperstein purchased the team and became the manager and coach. Saperstein, a short-statured Jewish man from Chicago’s North Side, even pitched in as a player from time to time when a team member was ill or injured.

They played their first road game in Hinckley, Illinois on January 7, 1927. Eager to advertise the team’s unique all-black roster, Saperstein changed their name in 1930 to the Harlem Globetrotters to link the squad with the neighborhood known as the mecca of black culture. Despite the name, the Harlem Globetrotters didn’t actually play a game in Harlem until 1968.

READ MORE: The Harlem Renaissance: Photos

Before they became known for their on-court antics, the Globetrotters were highly competitive in professional basketball and introduced a flashy, schoolyard style of play. They popularized the slam dunk, the fast break, emphasized the forward and point guard positions, and the figure-eight weave.

In 1940, the team captured the World Professional Basketball Tournament title. Even as they introduced tricks and comedy into their play, the Globetrotters remained competitive. In 1948, the team defeated the Minneapolis Lakers, champions of the all-white National Basketball League, the precursor to the National Basketball Association (NBA).

Not only were the Globetrotters innovative in their basketball style, they were pioneers as a barrier-breaking, African American team when the professional ranks were racially segregated. Jim Horne, who played for Globetrotters for five years during the 1950s, recalls the racial oppression that the team endured. “I faced segregation in the Army. When we traveled, signs said, ‘Coloreds Eat in the Back,’” Horne says. “But when I played with the Globetrotters it was entirely different because we were entertaining people and still treated less than human. In the South, we couldn’t eat in most places and we had to stay in the worst hotels. Coming from Buffalo, New York, it was a rude awakening. It was rough during those days.”

Throughout their storied history, the team has counted among its ranks legendary players such as Reece “Goose” Tatum, Marques Haynes, Meadowlark Lemon, Fred “Curley” Neal, “Wee" Willie Gardner, Nat "Sweetwater" Clifton, Wilt "The Stilt" Chamberlain, Connie "The Hawk" Hawkins, and Lynette Woodard, the first woman to play on the team. In 1982, the team received the ultimate recognition for their role as entertainers: a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

from Stories - HISTORY https://ift.tt/38ZKgWa February 25, 2020 at 10:00PM

#Worldhistory

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lboogie1906 · 2 years

Photo

The Globetrotters originated on the south side of Chicago on January 30, 1926, where all the original players were raised. The Globetrotters began as the Savoy Big Five, one of the premier attractions of the Savoy Ballroom opened in January 1928, a basketball team of African-American players that played exhibitions before dances due to declining dance attendance. In 1928, several players left the team in a dispute. That autumn, those players, led by Tommy Brookins, formed a team called the "Globe Trotters" and toured southern Illinois that spring. Abe Saperstein became involved with the team as its manager and promoter. By 1929, Saperstein was touring Illinois and Iowa with his basketball team called the "New York Harlem Globe Trotters". Saperstein selected Harlem, as part of their name since Harlem was considered the center of African-American culture at the time and an out-of-town team name would give the team more of a mystique. The Globetrotters did not play in Harlem until 1968, four decades after the team's formation. Many famous basketball players have played for the Globetrotters. Greats such as "Wee" Willie Gardner, Connie "The Hawk" Hawkins, Wilt "The Stilt" and Chamberlain, and Nat "Sweetwater" Clifton went on to join the NBA. The Globetrotters signed their first female player, Olympic gold medalist Lynette Woodard, in 1985. The Globetrotters have featured thirteen female players in their history. Baseball Hall of Famers Ernie Banks, Bob Gibson, and Ferguson Jenkins played for the team at one time or another. #africanhistory365 #africanexcellence https://www.instagram.com/p/CZXCRH8rqljzq2tyMd2aysAjqI8xpNLlIqAiJw0/?utm_medium=tumblr

#africanhistory365 #africanexcellence

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Miles Between Us Chapter 12 ~Obstacle Course ~

Previously in Suspicious Minds ...

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

"The monster is only scary while it is in the closet.

Once in the light,

you can see its many flaws

and weaknesses.

And often,

we end up laughing,

at what we shield our eyes from

no more."

-Tom Althouse

Meticulously scanning the busy vicinity, Claire stopped in the middle of the airport's arrival area and whirled on the spot, impatiently tapping her phone against her thigh. Come on, Hawkins, where the bloody hell are you? Though she and Tom were painfully late, she didn't want to blame their tardiness on Jamie, so instead, she held the gridlock on the motorway and the rain responsible. And whyever not? If it hadn't been for Mary coming to Inverness unannounced, she would be with Jamie right now, making up for lost time and talking about his therapy from this morning. Why in heaven's name had the responsibility of Mary landed on her shoulder of all days? She sighed. It must be another perk of being John Grey's ultra-reliable and never-can-say-no star employee, she reminded herself with an inward groan.

On the way to the airport, Claire had been quiet throughout the drive and was grateful to Tom for not prodding about what happened. To her relief, he'd just given her an understanding smile and drove. Thinking of Jamie's tortured face when he'd arrived at the cottage, it had taken a lot of willpower on her part to get into the car and leave him by the roadside looking after her with a forlorn expression. His words had played on repeat until she had to do a mental scold to remind herself she had work to do and assured herself she'd see him soon enough. She'd wanted him to be alright before she left to ensure him she hadn't changed her mind about them. Though she'd hurt not hearing from him after he'd disappeared, she knew his actions had been done in consideration of her, and that notion prevented her anger from taking over. Her feeling of abandonment over what he'd done was also tempered with her annoyance at Jenny. Jamie's sister's meddling was just so wrong on all sorts of level. In the middle of Jamie leaving her, Willie checking to make sure she was alright, and Jenny coming this morning, she'd gone back and forth between a place of strength and feeling like a lamb in the eye of a hurricane. But now, as she attempted to find the anger, the rage she'd felt after discovering the newspaper clipping about her house in Jenny's possession and the interference with Jamie's love life, she couldn't find it anymore.

Sensing Tom approaching, she recentred herself and smiled in his direction. "There you are.".

"Any luck?" he asked, coming to stand next to her and looking around.

"Nope," she replied, pressing her fingers to her forehead and massaging a sudden ache as she was reminded of the reason why they were there. "How did you get a parking space so quick?"

"I have my ways." When she arched an eyebrow, he grinned at her. "I have a disabled parking permit."

Claire stopped and glared at him. "Tom!"

He ignored her disapproving expression and shrugged. "So, who are we looking for?"

She shook her head and looked around for Mary once more. It shouldn't be this difficult to spot her because she usually stood out. "An overdressed, attractive petite brunette with loads of attitude," she replied, absentmindedly. "And probably with a trolley full of luggage."

More people walked past them making their search more difficult. She was about to make another phone call to Mary when Tom whistled under his breath. "Weel, weel," he murmured, his gaze ticking past her shoulder and turning thoughtful. "I wonder if the lass walking towards us is yer Hawkins." His lips twisted into a smile. "She looks mighty pissed."

"Wot?" She spun around and drew her brows together as she saw a familiar figure approaching them. What the hell? Is that Mary? It could only be her. The woman struggling with an oversized suitcase on wheels stood out like a mini bolt of lightning in her designer four-inch heels, pristine, skinny white jeans and black fur-lined down jacket. But there was something different about the way Mary looked, and it took a few seconds before Claire realised she had done something to her hair. She nearly gasped out loud. But as soon as Mary made eye contact, Claire immediately braced herself for some telling off for being late. Mary stopped, her mouth opening and closing as if she couldn't find the words to voice her displeasure. Claire schooled her features and met her leaden glare without flinching. "Mary? I hardly recognised you."

Mary's brown eyes prettily widened, and her expression softened as some kind of realisation dawned on her. "Oh! Of course ...you couldn't have." A sound of delight puffed out of her. "I had my hair done in Paris. Now we have the same curls. If only I was as tall as you, we'll probably be mistaken as sisters." She missed Claire's intake of breath as she ran her delicate fingers through her locks. "Do you like it?"

No, I don't! What have you done to your beautiful hair? You look like a poodle! Claire swallowed hard, tilted her head to her side, and contemplated the best way to tell Mary the truth. But she didn't have the heart to say it. Instead, she opted for something closer to the truth. "Well, for starters, it looks unusual. I'm so used to seeing your beautiful straight hair. I guess it will take time getting used to," she admitted. But when a slight frown drifted across Mary's face, Claire felt bad. Taking a deep breath, she laughed nervously as she fluffed her own hair. "Look at these ...after all these years, I'm still not used to mine, and I have a bit of hate relationship with it, especially when it gets humid or when I looked at the mirror first thing in the morning. So bear with me if I'm not much into curls."

It took Mary a long time to respond. "Oh, well," she replied with a subdued smile. "You should have seen John's face when he first saw my hair. He looked shocked." She shrugged. "But in the end, he did say it was beginning to grow on him. I guess everyone's used to my limp, lifeless hair."

Ah, bless John. Claire knew his expression wouldn't have been able to hide what was on his mind, and it wouldn't have bode well for him if Mary had been able to read his face. Mary was their star author whose new book could likely save his publishing company from potential financial ruin, and anyone pointing out her disastrous new hairstyle would probably only result in tantrums and more delays in publication. She sighed. "It wasn't limp, Mary. You had beautiful, straight hair. You have no idea what I would give to have manageable straight hair like what you had." And that was the truth.

Mary perked up a bit and rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, don't make me like you even more."

They shared a slow smile, and Claire was about to make a different compliment that didn't include Mary's hair when Tom cleared his throat and stepped forward, giving them a charming smile. "Ladies, sorry to interrupt, but shall we get cracking? My car is not parked in the most ideal of places."

"Oh, of course, I'm so sorry ..." Claire had almost forgotten about Tom, too fascinated by Mary's new hairstyle. She gave him an apologetic look and turned to Mary. "Oh, by the way, may I introduce you to ..." she trailed off and stopped.

Mary's expression looked like the heavens had just opened up and bestowed them an angel. Her lips moved, but no sound came, but when she did finally found her voice, it sounded raspy. "Is this your Jamie that John was talking about?"

Claire pried Mary's hand from her suitcase. "No, this is Tom. He's offered to drive me here to pick you up."

Tom grinned and offered his hand in greeting. "A pleasure to finally meet ye, Mary. I've read a couple of yer books, and I must say, not only are ye a talented writer but a beautiful one too."

Claire mentally groaned but kept the frustration from her face at bay. Tom must have noticed Mary's reaction and had taken his flirting a notch higher. When Mary continued to stare, Claire gently nudged her with her elbow. "Mary. Shake Tom's hand, and let's go."

Mary shook her way out of her trance and smiled. "Oh, I think this is going to be a very, very interesting visit," she gushed, finally back to her being her old self again. But instead of shaking Tom's hand, she hooked her arm into his, leaving Claire with the suitcase. "So Tom ...can you recommend a perfect place to eat? I'm quite famished and can't work on an empty stomach."

Tom obliged and patted Mary's hand. "Dinnae fash, I ken just the place."

With that, Mary looked over her shoulder and winked. All Claire could do was smile back and hope they would be able to get some work done. Because if not, and there's any more cause to delay Hawkin's books, come hell or high water, she's quitting Dreamweaver.

...........

Two Days Later

Stepping out of the shower, Jamie immediately zeroed in on his phone just in case he'd missed a call from Claire. They'd briefly talked last night, and she'd reminded him of uncle Lamb's arrival, which should be between now and the evening. If all goes to plan with Mary Hawkins, Claire should be coming back too. Hopefully, tonight, he thought with a sigh. It was already late Saturday afternoon, and his work was done for the weekend. Plenty of time left to get his shit together.

Since Claire had left for Inverness, he hadn't had time to think. His brother had kept him busy with tasks and paperwork, and, on top of it all, he'd been distracted trying to comfort a distressed sister. Jenny had told him what had transpired between her and Claire. And how she'd been out of her mind, thinking she'd ruined their relationship. He'd consoled her, and in turn, she'd apologised profusely for her meddling. Her sincerity had touched him, but moreover, he couldn't help feeling amused at the thought of Jenny finally meeting her match. Though Claire was a gentle and thoughtful soul, he knew she was not the type to be bossed around. And in as much as he loved his sister, he was glad Claire put Jenny in her place and hoped after everything had been said and done, they can all move on from that incident and forgive.

Despite barely having time to be alone with his sometimes chaotic thoughts, he'd still managed to feel anxious about Christie. Jamie learned he hadn't returned to Broch Mordha, which led him to ponder if Christie was spending time with Claire. It was a lapse of insecurity, and that notion had been rubbished straight away since he knew how important Claire's work was to her. So there should be no pressure on his chest or icy tingling along his spine.

There shouldn't be, but somehow there was.

Jamie was just shrugging into a fresh sweatshirt when his doorbell rang. He glanced at the wall clock and wondered who it was. Claire hadn't given a specific time for Quentin's arrival, and if it had been her at the door, she should've let herself in with the spare key he'd given her.

"Coming!" he shouted as the doorbell rang once more. He took a deep breath expecting uncle Lamb to be standing out there. Bracing himself. he flung the door open and was surprised to see who it was. "Ge- ... I mean Dr Dunsany!"

"Hi, Jamie!" Geneva greeted. "You may call me Geneva, you know ...since we're not in my office. May I come in?"

Jamie narrowed his gaze and looked past her shoulder. He could see Mrs Fitz from across the street pretending to fuss over some leaves in her garden when really he could tell she's prying into his business. There were talks already surrounding Claire being seen with Tom, and it wouldn't do him good if words of Geneva coming to his cottage got around, no matter how innocent the visit was. He gave Geneva an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I'm kinda busy," he withdrew, glancing casually at his watch. "I ... there's... I'm expecting a visitor. "

"Oh! But this won't take long." She stood there with laid back confidence that lured most men to look their fill. He neutrally eyed the slim-fitting turtle neck that hugged her breast and tight jeans that hung low, her scarlet painted lips pursed in a pretty pout. "I wanted to talk about the session we had the other day," she added quickly.

Jamie crossed his arms across his chest. "Couldn't this wait until our next appointment?"

She took a cautious step closer, her expensive scent drifting in the air. "I'd rather talk about it now. This is just not about your therapy." Her blue eyes seductively landed on his lips. "I want to discuss something personal too."

"Sorry, personal won't do, I'm afraid. Ye're my therapist."

"Jamie, how long have we known each other?"

"Long enough ..."

She smiled, her hand brushing something away from his shoulder. "What's wrong? Surely your girlfriend won't mind your therapist coming over to check up on your progress, will she? We live in a small place, and we all know each other here."

"Her name is Claire ..."

"And I heard she's with Tom? Is that right?"

He smothered a sigh as he could tell what this was all about. Though Geneva was an attractive lass, he'd always only felt a minor buzz for her, which paled to the mind-blowing reaction Claire caused with just a single look. Where Claire was never more than anything but herself, Geneva always tried too hard. And it wasn't just all physical with Claire. It was their connection to each other's mind and soul. The way she made it easy for him to allow her to see his vulnerability and the way she'd let him in when no promises had been made on his part when they first met. Thinking back to the other day, he shook his head. He'd known the steaming anger that had risen within him when he'd first heard of Claire meeting with Tom and how that rumour almost made him lose his sense of judgement. He could not allow room for any gossip to go around, especially when Claire was away. Geneva should definitely not come in.

"Look, as ye can see, I'm fine. I dinnae think it's a good idea us meeting like this. Let's keep personal stuff away and keep this professional, aye?"

She took a while to accept his dismissal. Sheer frustration swept over her face before she managed to compose herself. He tried to offer any semblance of an apology, but she cut him off. "I'm the one who understands your condition and how tough it is to live a normal life with your PTSD. And I know better than anyone else right now how to handle it."

Irritation coasted down his back. "There's no doubt you're a brilliant therapist, Geneva. But I am much more than a textbook scenario. Something Claire has always understood."

"But for how long, Jamie?"

"That is none of your concern," he said cooly. "Now, please go as I have things to do."

Her back straightened with steely dignity, and Jamie could tell every movement was measured to create the most dramatic effect. It was another detail he found unattractive and probably why he'd never acted on Geneva's crush for him. "Here's my theory," she began in a low voice. "You're just with her because you needed to fix someone, and she fits the bill. That's what you've been doing all your life - fixing everyone's problem. You'll never be happy, Jamie, if you keep repeating the same pattern over and over again."

He swallowed his anger. "How I choose to live my life is my concern, and if it means repeating the same pattern, then so be it. Forcing me to see things the way you want me to will only piss me off. So while I still have patience, please go."

He took a tentative step backwards, waiting for her to leave so he could close the door. Instead of walking away, she took him by surprise and threw herself against him, looping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his.

Christ! Repelled by the assault, he grasped her shoulder and pushed her away. "What the bloody hell was that?" he gritted angrily.

Face red, she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "Mark my words, it's just a matter of time before Claire is unable to deal with your PTSD anymore. I know the pattern, and I've seen it a million times. Most men with this condition end up alone because no one fully understands the extent of what they go through. Oh sure, the people in their lives say they understand but do they really? It's a scary thing for most and an uncomfortable situation to live in. As for me ... I know, and I understand, and I can handle it because I've studied and worked with people like you. And when that day comes, and she leaves you for good, know that I'll be here waiting."

"Just because you know my history, it doesn't make ye an expert in knowing how my life will turn out to be. And ye don't know a thing about Claire, her heart, her resilience ..."

She snorted in disgust. "You just wait and see." With that, she turned around and walked off.

He almost choked. Has the lass gone mad? His skin crawled with icy foreboding as he glanced across the street, his eyes searching for his neighbour. To his relief, Mrs Fitz was no longer stood in the garden to witness Geneva's kiss. A sudden ugly thought came to him, and he wondered what Claire would do if she'd been in his position. Jamie shook his head and immediately dismissed the notion. Tom wouldn't dare. Jamie had already made sure, loud and clear, that Claire was off-limits.

When Geneva's kiss drifted back to the forefront of his mind, he grimaced. His first impulse was to ignore the whole incident. But on second thoughts, he should tell Claire in case words of it reached her before he could explain. He wasn't a hundred per cent sure no one had witnessed that weird occurrence, and if someone did, it would surely be tonight's topic on every dinner table in Broch Mordha. Worriedly, he glanced up and down his street and only saw an unfamiliar car and driver on the phone. Probably Mrs Fitz's new guest, he figured. Satisfied with that thought, he shut the door.

Attempting to get his composure back before he called Claire, he headed for the sideboard in his dining area, grabbed a bottle of whisky, and poured himself a measure. He threw back a shot, his eyes watering slightly in deference to the burn that slid down his throat. He was about to pour another one when the doorbell rang. Again.

What does she want now? He slammed the glass down on the dining table and made his way back to the door. This time he was going to tell Geneva to cancel his therapy appointment. The lass was mad, and he hadn't known the extent of it until today. He'd always thought of her crush for him as a harmless fancy, but obviously, with Jenny's meddling, she'd set her hopes up. This time, he's had enough. With irritation simmering in his guts, he opened the door ...

And was met by an imposing figure obstructing the daylight.

Jamie heard an unintelligible grunt in greeting, and the smell of tobacco invaded his nostrils. He peered at the face, but it was shadowed by a wide-brimmed fedora hat and several days worth of stubble. He blinked to rid the cobwebs threading patterns on his brain and forced his body to straighten to its full height.

"What's that on your mouth?" the man growled.

What the ...? "Quentin?"

"You got lipstick on!"

Horror swooped in as Jamie realised he was still exhibiting the evidence of Geneva's kiss. He immediately swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and instantly felt nauseated when he saw the smudged scarlet on his knuckles. Jesus! "It's not ... it's..."

"It's not my niece's," the older man finished with a cock of his bushy eyebrow.

"It's not mine either," Jamie retorted without thinking. Ah, bloody fuck! "I mean ... it's not what ye think."

"I would certainly hope it's not yours." Quentin narrowed his eyes at him, taking his measure. Jamie did the same to him. He wondered what the man was thinking, but Claire's uncle spoke again before he got a chance. "Well, are you letting me in, or are we just going to stare at each other like a couple of dafties?"

Who the fuck does he think he is? But he quickly reminded himself this was Claire's uncle, so he slightly softened his stance. Swallowing the sour taste in his mouth, Jamie took a step back and motioned Quentin into his home. "Come in."

Ignoring Jamie's dark look, Quentin strode into his cottage, but he's brought up short when he saw the whisky and shot glass on the dining table. He plopped his sling bag onto the chair, opened it, pulled out a tequila bottle and placed it on the table. Then he turned around and slid his hands into his pockets. "You and I, lad, are going to talk before my niece arrives."

Jamie shut the door and eyed Quentin, carefully pondering his words. As he'd suspected, Quentin was very much like Harry but with broader shoulders, an intense darker face, and eyes that seemed to flash with diabolical laughter. It was a face that had probably seen too much in his lifetime. All his mannerisms were large, confident and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild cat, and when he stood in his space like this, he appeared to be a wild animal held in a cage too inadequate for it. His features might be similar to Harry's, but yet, their difference was like night and day.

A scoff rasped his throat. "I've had enough forced therapy for the week, thank ye very much."

"If I didn't know you any better, I would have bloodied your nose after seeing that lipstick on your mouth."

"If ye're dying to punch me on the face, then give me yer best shot. I dinnae have to explain anything to ye. I've done nothing wrong."

"No, you haven't," Quentin sighed, nodding his head. "I saw what passed."

Jamie absorbed that while keeping his features impassive. "And yet ye're still judging me."

Quentin's mouth twitched, but his eyes remained serious. "I'm not."

"Right from the start, it felt like ye've been giving me the first degree."

Quentin disregarded his words with a shrug. "I was just making sure Claire's in good hands. She's all I have."

Jamie understood the sentiment. He would have probably done the same if he'd been in Quentin's shoes. Christ, hadn't he felt like committing murder when he'd first found out about Tom?

"We've met before, you know?" Quentin interrupted his thoughts.

Jamie's head shot up.

"Way before our video chat," the older man revealed. "But I figured you don't remember."

He didn't, so he shook his head.

Quentin took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh before placing it on the table. "Claire recently told me she just found out that it was you and your godfather, ...Murtagh...I believe his name was, who saved her from the car accident. She asked me if I knew." Quentin paused to discern Jamie's expression. When he couldn't seem to read anything, he proceeded. "I admitted I did and ..."

"Ye knew who I was?"

"No. Not until you told me your family name and mentioned Lallybroch near the end of our video chat. I thought Claire would be angry for not telling her, but she didn't say much else except that both of you have been clueless all these years. So if you have any questions about what happened, I'll fill in the void for you if it'll help you move on."

Jamie shoved a hand through his hair. Feeling suddenly restless, he went to the drinks' cabinet to retrieve shot glasses. He grabbed the tequila bottle, uncapped it, and poured two equal measures. "So now you want to diagnose me? Is that it?"

"Diagnose you for what?"

Jamie realised Quentin knew nothing of his condition. Claire hadn't told her uncle. He ignored the question and handed the shot to Quentin. "Why bring it up now?"

Quentin took the offered glass, raised a silent toast with Jamie, and simultaneously threw back the shot. They both flinched at the heat. "I owe you the truth," Quentin replied, placing the shot glass on the table. "Take it or leave it. I've been silent about it for years. Tell me what you remember, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Did he really want to know? The past would eventually catch up and come out, that much Jamie knew, so he might as well have it out in the open. Taking a deep breath, he paced to the window and with his back to Quentin, he began recounting what he could remember from the accident. He waited for the white noise or the torture to start swarming in his head, but to his astonishment, they never came. Though the memory of that fateful day was more vivid than ever, its power to hold him in a choke was diminished. The words flowed with ease, and it began to feel like he was describing someone else's story. When he was done, he turned around and saw just in time a shadow passed across the older man's face. He looked like ten years have been shaved off his life.

Quentin took a seat and clasped his hands together. "I lied to you the day when we first met."

Jamie stilled and looked at Quentin. "What do ye mean?"

"I was in Cairo when I heard the news of the accident. I immediately took the first plane out and headed here. I was told Claire was being taken care of by your parents and that both of you were inseparable. When I arrived at Lallybroch, you were holding Claire in your lap like she was the most precious thing." Quentin paused and smiled at the memory before descending back to that sad place in his head. "But when you laid eyes on me, that's when you lost it and started screaming. Claire screamed along with you ...God, it was awful. At that time, it hadn't truly sunk in what happened to my brother and his wife, and it was torture to see you kids in such pain." Quentin shook his head. "You were shouting something like ...I should be dead and that you've seen me go up in flames. You see, I've been told beforehand you'd witnessed the accident, and that's when it occurred to me you thought I was Harry. So I did what I thought was best at that moment ...I knelt before you and fibbed. Only because nothing could calm you down, and I wanted to ease your distress. I pretended to be Harry and told you I wasn't dead, and when you asked how I got away, I made up some story like managing to crawl out the last minute. Somehow that little white lie quieted you down."

"I honestly don't remember that part," Jamie whispered, taking a seat across from Quentin. "But in saying that, all the memories of that day are just beginning to resurface. I'm just starting to remember again. It all began when ..."

"When you met Claire for the second time," Quentin finished for him.

Jamie nodded with a small smile as he watched Quentin stood up and poured them another shot.

Quentin gazed at him with all the seriousness. "May I ask you a question?"

"Ask away."

Quentin pushed the shot glass towards him. "What if, instead of Harry, you were the one that died that day?" He paused and looked directly into his eyes. "What do you think would you have missed in the years that came after?"

Jamie frowned. "Why would ye ask such a thing?"

Quentin sighed. "Because lately, I've been asking myself the same question every day. I've searched for the answer going back through almost twenty years, and I've come up with almost nothing. Besides Claire coming into my life, I have nothing to show. Of course, there were a few memorable moments when I was granted an acknowledgement of merit for my work. And then there were a few rare occasions I got to spend time with Claire. But between those scraps of time, there's only a grey empty void. The rest of my days were spent going through the motions, keeping a barrier between me and the world. I realised, ever since my brother died, I've been living in fear that the same fate could befall me ... that's why I've never married. So you see now, Jamie, I haven't been living at all. And I don't want you to make that mistake."

Jamie gave a wistful smile. "I see that, and with everything happening, I'm just starting to understand. We all have to walk around lugging a past, getting from one step to the next. Just need a healthy way to release it, as Claire often reminded me enough." When Jamie saw Quentin nodding in agreement, he saw an opportunity. He cleared his throat and straightened himself. He'd just bonded with Claire's uncle, so surely that should mean something. "So ....Quentin," he began nervously, "does this mean ye're fine with me being with Claire?"

Claire's uncle went back to looking like he wanted to rip a head off. "No. I've just arrived after a long flight, and you haven't offered me anything. I haven't eaten in the last six hours, and you're asking me if I'm okay with you being with Claire? So far, all you've done is open the tequila bottle without thanking me for it and nought to impress me."

Ah, shite! Hearing that, he pushed himself to his feet. "I ken a few good places that serve excellent pub grub," he said rapidly.

"Do you not have food in your kitchen, lad?"

"Aye, I do, but since ye're starving, I thought it would be easier if we got something out," Jamie reasoned. "So, what do ye have in mind?"

Quentin glowered at him before slugging back the rest of his shot. "Somewhere where they serve greasy food."

Jamie stopped. "But Claire said yer heart ..."

"The greasier, the better," Quentin growled.

It was clear to Jamie he's still miles away from wholly winning over Quentin. He reckoned he's probably not going to win that battle today, and one plate of greasy food was not going to kill Claire's uncle. Ah, hell! Didn't his ma once said that the way to someone's heart is through one's stomach? There's a chance that this could still work. But before he could say anything, his phone buzzed, and he almost knocked over the chair, trying to grab it. "It's Claire."

Quentin rolled his eyes.

Jamie quickly read Claire's message and smiled. Ah, there's a God after all! He glanced up at Quentin. "She's coming back home tonight."

"I knew that! Now, how about that nosh you were on about."

"Aye ...right ...I ken just the place."

..........

Five Hours Later

"This is a shithole!" Quentin grumbled, slurring his words and shoving his unfinished plate of Bangers and Mash away from him.

Tough shite! Jamie glanced out the window and then looked back at the time on his watch. Damn it! A plate of food each, five pints of lager for Quentin and three pints for him later, still no word from Claire, and if she didn't come home soon, Quentin would drink him under the table. As it was, he's feeling rather tipsy already.

"You know what?" Quentin tipped the bottom of the pint glass in his direction. "Since we arrived here, you kept looking out that window every few minutes. Am I boring you, or is there something interesting out there? If so, care to share?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "Just wondering when Claire's coming home. Haven't heard from her since her last message.."

"Is that why you're looking outside? Does she know we're here?"

"No! Christie is bringing her back from Inverness."

"Who's Christie?"

"Some bloke."

"So what's outside? You keep looking out there."

Damn, so many questions! Jamie pointed his finger towards the window. "See that red door over there? Christie lives in that building, first floor, window facing the street. We'd know when they've arrived."

"Is that why you brought me here so you could check every once in a while if Claire's arrived?"

The older man was on to him, but Jamie wasn't about to admit it. "You wanted greasy food, did ye not?"

Quentin shrugged without answering.

Jamie checked his phone again and agitatedly rubbed a hand behind his neck. What's taking them so long? Wicked thoughts were beginning to seep in. Has Claire, by any chance, heard about Geneva's visit and kiss? It wouldn't be an impossibility as rumours tended to make their way out of Broch Mordha. A part of him knew that the alcohol was dulling his reason, so he mentally shook himself. He should have called Claire earlier, right after Geneva left and told her what happened, but of course, Quentin's arrival had interrupted him from doing just that.

"Stop fidgeting. You're making me nervous."

"I'm just worried Claire would hear about that kiss ye witness earlier before I get to explain myself."

A heartbeat passed. For the first time since Jamie had known Quentin, his tough demeanour slipped, and something akin to amusement flashed through. "Don't worry. If she's heard about it, she would have given you her two pennies worth by now, and that's putting it mildly. Of course ...worst-case scenario, you'll end up with your ears ringing for days after she's done telling you off." He smirked and raised his pint to his lips, his actions revealing he was only teasing. Jamie reined in his frustration and let it go without comment.

Obviously emboldened by Jamie's silence, Quentin leaned forward. "So, have you bought flowers for Claire for when she returns?"

"No."

"Why not? It would help your cause in case Claire heard about that kiss."

Jamie glared at Quentin. "Thanks for rubbing that in. But I dinnae have time. I was too busy entertaining ye. Besides, I bought her fruits. She loves fruits. I even bought her a variety of them."

The older man's eyes bugged out. "She's got you eating healthy too, huh?"

"Nothing wrong with that," Jamie muttered. "She likes chocolates too. I got her a big box of it. Lindt."

Quentin glanced out the window to his side and perked up. "Hey, someone just went through that red door. I don't know what Christie looks like, but it could be anyone."

Jamie followed his gaze, and sure enough, the red door was just closing. He glanced back at his phone on the table, and though he knew he would hear the sound of notification, he still needed to look to assure himself. There was still no message.

"First-floor window light just went on," Quentin observed in a low voice. "That's Christie's place, right?"

His head snapped up. "What?"

"Oh, look, that's Claire, looking out. I know that hair anywhere."

Jamie looked and saw Claire just in time before she moved away from the window and pulled the curtain. He swallowed the odd lump in his throat. What the hell is she doing in Christie's place? Then it all came rushing in, in full force. He'd left Claire on her own because of his stupid panic attacks, and when he'd finally come to his senses, it was probably too late because Christie had already entered the picture. And now everything that Geneva had told him earlier was coming to fruition. No, no!

A split second later, Jamie burst out the pub's front entrance and ran across the street, Quentin not far behind him.

This cannae be happening. This is the worse nightmare ever. Ach Christ, please dinnae let this be true. Please. She's my lass. Mine. No, no, no. Oh fuck, I need her.

Thunder roared in his ears, and he'd only vaguely managed to process Quentin's remark on his overreaction and something about alcohol consumption. But all he could think of was how he and Claire needed to talk, now. He couldn't accept their relationship was over when it hadn't had a chance yet.

Jamie stopped in front of Christie's building and looked up the window, shouting Claire's name, while Quentin manically pressed the buzzer for the first floor. A few passersby eyed them warily, and a voice called from somewhere, "what the bloody hell, Fraser!" probably thinking they'd gone off their nuts, but he couldn't give a fuck. His heart hammered wildly, unable to think straight. All he could see was Claire with Christie, together. He groaned miserably, the very thought chilling him to the bone. Oh, please, God no!

No one responded to Quentin's incessant buzzing, and when he tried to yank on the knob, it didn't budge. It remained lock.

Jamie gathered a few stones that he could find on the cobbled street and started pelting Christie's window, roaring Claire's name on top of his lungs. His effort was rewarded when the curtain slid open, and he saw Claire looking down, her hair all wild and loose. But by now, they've also attracted a wee crowd that stood in a semi-circle behind him. He didn't take notice and focused his attention on the woman above.

"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. We've only known each other for a short while, but it's enough for me to see that ye're the one for me. Forever. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."

Jamie paused to get his breathing back to normal and give Claire a chance to respond. But she remained immobile and continued to stare down at him. The crowd behind whispered and tittered, probably thinking he'd finally lost all his marbles. He even heard someone murmuring about him having had a bit too much to drink. But he didn't care even when he saw Quentin's shaking head, most likely in disgust at him. A hand touched his shoulder, but he shrugged it off, only focused on getting through Claire. "What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, except for the hush sounds from behind him, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. For ye, ye hear me? I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said."

Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money.

..........

Hands on her chest, Claire stood inert behind Jamie, listening with interest as he belted out Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give you Up in a scratchy voice. She tilted her head to the side and watched in fascination his stiff, sparse hip movement that went with his song. She'd wanted to alleviate Jamie's suffering and save him from further embarrassment, but midway through his moving speech, she'd caught a glimpse of her uncle. He'd given her a warning shake of his head, telling her to let Jamie finish pouring his heart out. So with a sigh, she stood back and waited.

Oh, Jamie, Jamie!

This beautiful, rugged giant of a man and former SAS soldier was singing to her as though his life depended on it. How could he think she'd left him? She needed to put her arms around him and reassure him that he's the one for her too and that there's been nobody else but him.

"Jamie!" she rasped. When he didn't hear her, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Jamie! It's me, Claire!"

Jamie stopped and whipped around, his eyes taking her in, in total disbelief. "Sassenach?" he whispered. "It's ye."

Her throat constricted. "Uh-huh."

His head jerked back up to the window and then back to Claire. He looked as though he wanted to believe he was really seeing her but could not see past his fear just yet. "To whom the bloody hell was I proclaiming my love to then if ye were stood here all along?" he asked, throat working with emotion.

"You were singing to Mary Hawkins, Jamie," she croaked. "The star author of our publishing company."

"And what the hell is she doing up at Christie's place?"

Claire grimaced. This was really a sensitive subject, and they were talking about a public figure, and a small crowd was watching them. So she stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. "I think Mary and Tom have a thing for each other. And I have a sneaking suspicion ..." she glanced up at the window above where Mary still stood. "Tom is not going to be please when he finds out it was you who interrupted whatever they're up to."

"James Fucking Fraser!"

It was Tom, wherever he was shouting from. Jamie didn't wait to find out because, in one quick movement, he took Claire's hand and made short work of getting them into the dark alley to the applause and cheers of the bystanders. Laughing, they ran and ran until they were far away enough from prying eyes. And there in the darkened path, its only illumination coming from the full moon above, they found one another once again in each other's arms.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, thank you all for your feedback in the previous chapter. I'm going to keep this short as I still tire easily.

As I've mentioned before, I haven't been well the last few days; hence the delay for this instalment. I hope you enjoyed this one. If there are any inconsistencies and grammar mistakes, I blame them on my medication. Haha!

So that said, thank you all for the messages on my Tumblr, your feedback and kudos on AO3, and mostly for your patience. Take care always of yourself, and keep spreading the love vibe! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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soulbounce · 5 years

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