It was an early evening in mid December and the sun was almost down as I sat on the sofa, enjoying the warmth from the fire. After all the pain and heartache that had happened in France, it was so wonderful to be home at Lallybroch with Jenny and Ian and their growing family. Little Maggie had just come tottering in and crawled into my lap. While she happily entertained herself with the shirt I had been mending, I carded my fingers through the soft, fine strands of her hair, humming quietly to myself.

I heard the front door creak open and Jamie swept into the room with a flurry of snowflakes and a gust of wind. He came to stand behind me, leaning over the back of the sofa. I could feel the cold radiating off of him.

"What's that yer humming there, mo nighean donn?" Noticing my ministrations to Maggie's hair, he started to play with the wisps of hair at the nape of my neck that had escaped from their pins. His fingertips were cold against my skin and I shivered slightly at the touch.

"Just a Christmas song," I replied, tipping my head back to look up at him. He had that thoughtful, focused look on his face that he always got when he was processing new information.

"Do people sing lots of songs around Christmastime, then? In the future?" He placed a kiss on my forehead, then circled around the sofa to sit next to me. Maggie put out her arms to reach for him, so he took her from my lap and bounced her gently on his knee.

"Yes, they get quite festive about it. There are lots of songs on the radio for people to listen to, and some people go out caroling and sing together in groups. And during the war the men, the Americans especially, liked to sing songs in camp to keep their spirits up." I could tell from his face that he had lots of questions, and I wondered which he would ask first.

"Will ye sing for me?" he asked finally, almost shyly.

"What, now?" I asked, surprised by the request.

"Aye. If ye dinna mind, that is. I hear ye humming all manner of songs all the time, but I havena heard ye sing afore."

"Well, the only songs I know are from the future," I explained. "At first I thought it was better not to sing any aloud to keep people from asking complicated questions. I guess I just got in the habit of keeping them to myself. "

"Aye, I suppose that's reasonable," he allowed, but then a playful gleam came into his eyes. "But it just doesna seem verra fair that practically half this country has heard ye sing, Sassenach, and I, yer husband, havena. Even Murtagh says ye have a bonny voice."

"Murtagh actually said that?"

"Aye, I did," Murtagh said, tramping inside with Fergus close behind him. The two of them moved to stand close to the fire. "But if ye recall, I also said if I never hear that bloody song again, it'll be too soon."

"Wheesht," Jamie ordered. "Ye dinna have to listen."

"I will listen," Fergus volunteered eagerly. "Will you sing for us, Milady?"

"Well, I suppose I can't refuse at this point," I said with a bemused smile. "But I won't sing the one you're thinking of, Jamie, if only to keep Murtagh from strangling me. And I did promise someone I'd never sing it again once I found you. But I will sing something else."

"What's this now?" Jenny asked, coming down the stairs with little Katherine balanced on her hip. Ian appeared a moment later with wee Jamie on his heels.

"Claire's going to sing for us," Murtagh informed them, settling expectantly into an armchair despite his earlier protestations.

"Are ye now?" Jenny asked, her voice tinged with surprise. "What song?" I was suddenly very aware of my rapidly growing audience. Even after all those weeks on stage, I was still a touch nervous about performing, especially now since I wasn't prepared.

"What about the one ye were humming just now?" Jamie prompted gently, noting my anxiousness. "Would that do?" I gave him a small smile.

"I don't actually know the words to that one," I admitted ruefully. It had been Carol of the Bells, one of my favorites, but I had never gotten around to learning more than the first few lines. I quickly wracked my brains for a Christmas song that I could remember all the way through.

"I think I have a suitable one," I said finally. I cleared my throat a bit, then started.

Sleigh bells ring

Are you listening

In the lane

Snow is glistening

A beautiful sight

We're happy tonight

Walking in a winter wonderland…

The children all applauded gleefully when I finished.

"That's a bonny tune," was Jenny's only comment. I didn't know whether or not she knew I was from the future, but I knew she at least had her suspicions that my story wasn't all it seemed. I made a mental note to tell her sometime soon; Murtagh knew and I felt at this point there was no harm in telling her as well. Ian, I think, didn't care either way but had merely accepted my eccentricities as merely that.

"Will you sing another?" Fergus requested immediately.

"I suppose I could do one more," I agreed with a smile. I really had missed the music of my time. After a few moments of consideration, I started the next song.

You better watch out

You better not cry

You better not pout

I'm telling you why

Santa Claus is coming to town…

This song was received with blank stares.

"Who's Santa Claus?" wee Jamie asked, his head cocked to one side. I blinked.

"It's another name for St. Nicholas," I explained. More blank stares.

"Father Christmas?" I tried again. "He brings gifts to children on Christmas."

"Oh, Père Noël!" Fergus exclaimed with dawning comprehension. "Oui. That's why you leave a shoe by the fire on Christmas Eve."

"A shoe?" I asked, askance. "Surely you mean a stocking."

"No, a shoe," he insisted.

"Oh, ye mentioned that to me once," Jamie noted. "It's to dry them out, aye?"

"No, no," Fergus explained, sounding rather scandalized that no one but me seemed to have any idea about any of this. "You leave a shoe by the fireplace and Père Noël leaves sweets or fruit or a small toy for you."

"What a strange tradition," Jamie interrupted, steering the conversation back towards safer territory. "How about another song, Sassenach?"

0 0 0

"I never did thank ye before," Jamie said later that night when we had retired to our room. I was sitting on the floor in front of the hearth, leaning back against Jamie's knees as he sat in one of the chairs and removed the numerous pins that held my hair in place.

"What for?"

"For singing. You do have a bonny voice. Truly. So thank ye."

"It was my pleasure," I assured him. He worked the last few pins from my hair and it finally tumbled loose. He ran his fingers through it, gently untangling the thick curls.

"Will ye tell me more about Christmas?" he asked after a several minutes of silence.

"Is it really so different?" I asked. "I know the popularization of Santa Claus and such is a more modern occurrence, but surely traditions haven't changed all that much."

"Christmas has been banned in Scotland for near on a hundred years," Jamie replied seriously. "The Kirk disapproves of such things."

I suddenly had a vague recollection of learning that Cromwell had banned Christmas for a time back in the 1600s and that even in the 20th century the Scots still worked on Christmas. As I had lived my whole life observing Christmas, those details had simply slipped my mind.

"So you don't do anything to celebrate?" I asked, wanting to clarify.

"We acknowledge it quietly. The birth of Christ is important, after all, but it's more of a serious contemplation, no what you'd call a celebration. Ye can even get in trouble for going to Mass. So what is it that ye do in the future? Besides sing songs, that is?"

"Well, people often decorate for the season with wreaths and ribbons and candles. And we put up Christmas trees in our homes and decorate them with colored lights and baubles."

"A tree?" Jamie asked. "A tree inside the house?"

"Yes. It's a tradition brought over from Germany. Prussia, I mean. People get each other gifts, wrap them in paper, and put them under the tree. Then they exchange them on Christmas day. Most people also do a special meal in the evening as well."

"And this Santa Claus," he asked, "does he really bring gifts to children?"

"No, that's just a story for the children, really. It's actually just the parents who leave the presents and put treats in the stockings for their children…" My voice faltered to a stop as I was struck with the sudden painful remembrance that this should have been our first Christmas with our child.

Jamie noticed my distress and instantly knew the cause of it. He slid to the floor beside me and pulled me close against his chest. I turned and buried my face in the crook of his neck.

"Oh, Claire," he said softly, his voice rough with grief. He rubbed my back in soothing circles. "Oh, mo ghraidh. We may one day yet share Christmas with our own wee bairns. One day."

It took me a long while to collect myself enough to continue, but eventually I did. I talked late into the night, telling Jamie all about my memories of Christmas in another time.

0 0 0

The days passed quickly just as they always did. The men worked outside, tending the livestock, fixing tools, and making repairs. Jenny and I stayed in, sewing, doing laundry, and minding the children. Before I knew it, Christmas Eve had arrived.

It was late in the evening and Jamie and I were the last ones downstairs. The children had long since gone to bed and I could hear the retreating footsteps of Jenny, Ian, and Murtagh as they retired as well. I moved around the room extinguishing the candles as Jamie carefully banked the fire so it would still be burning in the morning.

"So, what will you be up to tomorrow?" I asked, trying to keep any hint of anticipation from my voice.

"The horses need to be re-shod, so I'll most like be seeing to that," was his only answer.

"Oh." I blew out the last candle, throwing the room into near darkness so he couldn't see the crestfallen look that was likely clear on my face. He could hear it in my voice anyway.

"I'm sorry, mo nighean donn," he said, standing up from the fire and taking my hand to pull me to his side. "I dinna mean to disappoint ye. Christmas just isna something we're accustomed to celebrating here. It's just another workday for us."

"I know. It's fine, really," I assured him. He pulled me closer to him and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"Why don't we go upstairs and I'll try my best to make it up to ye?" he suggested mischievously with a grin and his ridiculous attempt at a wink.

"I very much like the sound of that," I said, standing up on my toes to kiss him. "There's just one more thing I need to do first."

I extricated myself from his embrace and went to retrieve the shoe I had seen Fergus surreptitiously place beside the fire early in the evening before going to bed. Then I took Jamie by the hand and led him upstairs.

Once in our bedchamber, I withdrew the basket of treats I had been amassing over the last week and spread its contents over the small table in the corner of the room. There were several small apples I had taken from the cellar and some small gingerbread cakes Mrs. Crook had helped me bake just that afternoon. Jamie watched me curiously as I divided the goodies into four piles, one for each of the children, and wrapped them neatly in handkerchiefs. Katherine was of course too young to eat her apple, but I thought she might enjoy playing with it all the same.

Next I retrieved a few small toys from my chest of clothes. For little Katherine I had made a small ragdoll out of some spare bits of cloth I had saved from Jenny's and my sewing. The doll's small dress would match Katherine's newest one. For Maggie I had made a thaumatrope, a bouquet of flowers painstakingly painted on one side of the little wooden disk, an empty vase on the other. For Fergus's and wee Jamie's gifts, I had enlisted Ian's help. He had happily agreed to whittle a spinning top for Jamie, as well as a small wooden cup on a stick so I could make Fergus a ball and cup toy.

"What's this then?" Jamie asked curiously, picking up Maggie's toy. The long strings dangled from either side as he examined both sides of the disk.

"It's a thaumatrope," I answered. His brow furrowed at the unfamiliar word. I took the toy from him figuring it would be easier to show him how it worked rather than try to explain it.

I held it out in front of him, one cord in each hand, and carefully rolled the strings between my fingers, causing the disk to spin back and forth along its horizontal axis. Jamie's face lit up in delight and surprise as the two separate images blurred together, causing the flowers to appear in the vase.

"Ye can do magic!" he exclaimed. "An ye told me ye weren't a witch."

"I'm not a witch," I insisted with mock offence. "I'm your wife. And it's not magic at all, just a trick of the eye. The motion combines the two images, just as the world blurs together when you spin in circles." I handed him the toy so he could try it himself. He had a look of childlike glee on his face as the two images spun together.

"Ye ken truly remarkable things, Sassenach," he said when he finally handed it back to me. I thanked him with a kiss.

I neatly arranged Fergus's gifts in his shoe, then unrolled two of my nicer pairs of stockings to use for the other children. Setting the spare one aside, I packed the three stockings and tied them shut with lengths of ribbon on which I had carefully stitched the children's names.

"You don't think Jenny will mind do you?" I asked, looking anxiously up at Jamie. "I don't want her to think I'm spoiling the children or teaching them foolish English traditions or anything. It's just that I wanted to do something for Fergus since this is a tradition for him too and I didn't want the others to feel left out…" I trailed off as Jamie took me gently by the shoulders, his face softening.

"Oh, Claire, ye kind, kind woman. Ye'll make such a wonderful mother some day. Jenny knows how much you care about those bairns. I dinna think she'll mind at all." He gave me a gentle hug, then released me and took up two of the stockings. "Now these get left by the fire, ye say?"

I nodded and the two of us tiptoed downstairs to lay the stockings and Fergus's shoe carefully on top of the mantel for the children to open in the morning. Then Jamie produced my extra stocking and carefully hung it from the mantel, pinning the end under a candlestick.

"For you, mo nighean donn," he explained with a small smile. Before I could say anything, he scooped me into his arms, holding me securely against his chest, and headed towards the stairs. "Now I believe I had some making up to ye to do."

0 0 0

When I awoke the next morning, I was disappointed to find the other side of the bed cold and Jamie gone. I lay there a few minutes longer, hoping he would come back, before I finally roused myself and set about the tedious process of dressing myself.

When I finally finished, I stepped out into the hallway and almost collided with Fergus, who had been standing just outside my door.

"Merry Christmas, Fergus," I said cheerily when I had recovered from my surprise.

"Merry Christmas, Milady."

"Shall we go downstairs and find ourselves some breakfast?" I suggested.

"Milord has requested that you stay upstairs until he comes to get you," Fergus replied sheepishly.

"Has he really?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"Please, Milady," he implored. "I will wait with you."

I relented and he followed me back into my room and sat down by the fire. I had left my hair down when I got dressed so he kindly offered to brush it for me while we waited.

We didn't have to wait long before Jamie appeared at the door, a happy grin on his face.

"Ye can come downstairs now, Claire," he announced grandly, taking me by the hand and leading me out into the hall. Fergus followed close behind us and Murtagh was waiting at the bottom of the stairs with a warm smile and a heartfelt "Merry Christmas" for me.

The main room had been transformed. Evergreen boughs had been laid along the mantle and draped with red ribbon. A small wreath had been hung in each of the windows and candles stood on the windowsills. A tiny Christmas tree about three feet in height had even been placed in one corner and adorned with more ribbon. I turned to face Jamie, incredibly touched by his efforts.

"James Fraser, you wonderful man! Did you do all of this just for me?"

"Aye, with some help from Fergus," he said shyly. "Did we get it right? Is this a bit like what ye were thinking?"

"It's perfect!" I explained, tears coming to my eyes. "It's better than I could have hoped for. Thank you, Jamie!" I flung my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest. When I finally released him, I drew Fergus into a tight hug as well.

"Thank you, Fergus," I said sincerely, gently cupping his face in my hands. "This is wonderful."

We were interrupted a moment later as Jenny and Ian appeared with their children, who were just as delighted as I was by the decorations.

"Merry Christmas, Claire," Jenny said warmly, pulling me into a hug. "Jamie said Christmas was an important holiday for you, so thank ye for sharing it with us. And he said ye had a surprise for the bairns?"

"I do," I announced with a smile. Once Jenny had gotten them settled on the sofa, I presented them with their stockings and Fergus with his shoe. They were absolutely delighted with their toys, though slightly disappointed when Jenny told them they had to wait until after breakfast to eat their gingerbread.

While they were happily distracted with their gifts, Jamie presented me with a stocking of my own.

"Oh, Jamie, you didn't have to do all this!" I exclaimed, pulling into a hug once more. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"I ask myself the same of you every day," Jamie countered, punctuating his response with a kiss. "Now open it."

I opened the small bundle to find a gingerbread cake of my own, a new length of ribbon for my neck, and a small cake of soap that smelled of honeysuckle.

"Thank you, Jamie," I said earnestly, overcome with emotion once more. He calmed me with a kiss and sat with me hugged to his chest until it was time for breakfast.

0 0 0

As Jamie had said the night before, there was still a regular day's work ahead of us. Jamie went about his work with the horses and I with my washing and mending until we all gathered again for dinner.

At Jamie's request, Mrs. Crook had prepared a delicious meal of rich stew and mashed potatoes and even special Yule bread, which I gathered was a tradition that had been banned. I worried that Jamie was taking a risk breaking the ban with these celebrations just for me, but he assured me that there would be no trouble.

When we had all finished eating and were comfortably full, we gathered around the hearth for a while. Ian brought out the family's bible and solemnly read us the Christmas story. After a short prayer, he turned to me.

"Will ye sing us another of yer Christmas songs, Claire?" he requested. "We have all greatly enjoyed hearing them."

"I would be delighted," I agreed. I cleared my throat and began the song I had been saving for just this occasion.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Let your heart be light

From now on, our troubles will be out of sight

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Make the Yuletide gay

From now on, our troubles will be miles away

Here we are as in olden days

Happy golden days of yore

Faithful friends who are dear to us

Gather near to us once more

Through the years we all will be together

If the fates allow

So hang a shining star upon the highest bough

And have yourself a merry little Christmas now…

The room fell comfortably quiet when I had finished and we all sat for a long moment, enjoying each others' company. Maggie finally announced the close of the evening with a wide yawn. Jenny and Ian stood and both gave me a warm hug before herding their sleepy children upstairs to bed.

"Thank you for sharing Christmas with us, Milady," Fergus said, giving me a tight squeeze.

"Thank you for helping make it a merry one," I replied, ruffling his hair before directing him upstairs as well.

Even Murtagh surprised me with a hug.

"Thank ye, Claire," he said gruffly. "I'm glad to have ye with us to bring us some joy." He hurriedly retreated upstairs before I could reply.

Jamie and I were the last ones to withdraw upstairs to our room. He undressed quickly, then carefully helped me undo all of my laces and remove my multitude of layers until I was left only in my shift.

He drew back the blankets on our bed and climbed in, pulling me down after him so I was spooned against him, my back pressed comfortably to his front. I turned my head over my shoulder to give him a deep kiss.

"Thank you, Jamie, for the most wonderful Christmas I could possibly imagine."

"And thank ye, Claire, for always finding new ways to show me that our life can be a happy one."

He kissed me again and I slowly drifted off to sleep, happy and safe in his arms.

A/N: Merry Christmas (a tad late, as ever)! As always, these characters aren't my own. They belong to the brilliant Diana Gabaldon and are taken from her Outlander series and the Starz TV series based on it. I'm very new to the fandom and haven't read the books so I apologize for any inaccuracies. The show timeline doesn't seem to match up with the books so with lots of vague handwaving I have it set Christmas of 1744 after they come back from France and before the uprising. I researched as best as I could but I'm no expert on Scottish or English history, holidays, or religion, so I apologize if I got things wrong. If I can get my act together in time, I hope to do a second chapter of this for Hogmanay/New Years. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!