Chapter 2: Settling In

Claire and Jamie had found a small inn, located between the dress shop and the bookstore in the main square. They hadn't any currency to speak of, particularly not of this time, but Claire did have a small gold brooch that Mrs. Fitz had given her when she was at Leoch. Luckily, the proprietor of the inn was willing to barter for the trinket, giving them a week to make preparations for more permanent lodgings.

Now they found themselves in the second floor room of the quaint little inn, dazed and bewildered, as they sat at the foot of the four-poster bed.

"Claire, what are we to do? I mean, this is unbelievable. How will we live?"

"I don't know, Jamie, I really don't. I think this whole day has been too much for us. It would be good for us to get some rest and start fresh in the morning. Maybe then our heads will be clear enough to think straight."

"Aye, it's a good idea. Let's go to bed."

He helped her with her laces, as he had done a hundred times before, but this time his hands were shaking, just like on their wedding night.

"What is it, Jamie? Are you alright?" She reached up to touch his cheek. His eyes lifted to her face in deep pools of blue.

"Aye. I'll do. It's just…" he began, but stopped as he collected his thoughts, "Claire, I am worried. And scared for ye…and me. I need…"

Claire put her arms around him, holding him close until he stopped shaking. After a moment, she looked up at him and smiled. "You need comfort, my love. You need *me*."

He smiled then, too, and resumed his unlacing as he said, "Aye, I do."

He finished with her laces and petticoats as she took off his belt and kilt. They held each other close, kissing and stroking, feeling each other through the thin cotton of shirt and shift. Jamie pulled the shift off over her head and then his shirt as well. They stood together naked, touching, caressing, squeezing until, at last, Jamie lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.


The bed was big, soft and warm. They crawled beneath the covers and snuggled close. It was the perfect cocoon for the two of them to hide away, lost in each other. Jamie held her as she laid her head in the crook of his shoulder. She ran her hand over his muscled stomach, then down to the burgeoning swell below.

"My, my, Mr. Fraser. I must say that there are marvelous things happening under this blanket. You really *do* need me, don't you?"

"Aye…" he said, intent on the goings on below, "Claire, I do want ye so."

"Good."

She climbed over him, then, settling herself on top of him, sheathing him inside her. He groaned at the exquisite feel of their joining.

"Yes, my love. Is that what you need?" she said, moving her hips rhythmically.

Jamie replied in a strangled voice, almost inaudible, "Claire! Oh God. Yes, I need you."

She continued moving on him and he reached up to stroke her breasts, teasing the nipples. It was her turn to moan then, loving the feel of his hands on her. "Ahhhh." She started moving faster as she neared climax. She could feel the slight tremors building within him too.

Jamie recognized the signs of her imminent release, and decided to help it along. One of his stroking hands moved down to touch her most sensitive spot, rubbing and caressing as her hips moved faster and faster.

"Oh God, Jamie!" she cried out, breathing hard and fast. She whimpered and reared until, at last, she found sweet oblivion. The resulting pulses moved through her and through him as he joined her in paradise.

Claire, gasping for air, collapsed onto his chest. She felt his rapid pulse as she kissed his neck, and could feel the effort it took him to breathe. She slowly broke their connection as she slid to the side, lying again in the comfort of his embrace.

After their breathing slowed, Jamie pulled her closer and kissed her tenderly and thoroughly. His tongue explored her mouth gently - undemanding. When at last he released her lips, he looked at her lovely face, saying, "My love, my heart, my Claire. You are the breath of my body and the light of my soul. You alone. Forever."

"And you are mine, Jamie. Forever."

After a few minutes, Jamie said, "I dinna ken what we are to do here, in this time, but I dinna think it matters, just as long as you are by my side."

Claire smiled warmly at him, stroking his cheek gently. "Indeed. It doesn't matter, Jamie. We will make our way. Together.


In the morning, Jamie awoke to the smell of frying bacon and other delightful scents he didn't recognize. His stomach growled, acknowledging the presence of food.

"Claire," he whispered to the bundle next to him. "Are ye awake, love?"

"H-huh? What?" she said sleepily. "W-what is it?"

"Good morning," he said, smiling at her face, bleary-eyed as it was.

"Ok, if you say so."

"I smell food and I'm half starved. I'll go down and get us some breakfast, aye?"

"Hmmmph." That was all she could say before she started dozing again.

Jamie got up and put on his clothes, padding out of the room softly so that Claire could sleep.


A half hour later, Jamie came back into the room carrying a tray full of food. It smelled and looked delicious, although he wasn't quite sure what all of it was. At this point it didn't matter. He could eat a live pig for all he cared at this moment.

Claire stirred, smelling the food. She slowly sat up in bed as Jamie sat the tray down between them.

"Mmmmm. Breakfast in bed. Very nice." She smiled appreciatively at him and grabbed some type of biscuit from the plate, nibbling in delight.

Jamie attacked the bacon as if he hadn't eaten in a week. He saw Claire's expression as she looked at him and he gave her a boyish grin.

"Are you sure one tray will be enough?" She giggled, then took a piece of bacon herself.

"Weel, I dinna ken," he said mischievously, "what with fighting redcoats, travelling through those bloody stones, and a wild night with you, all within the space of a day, I'd say I've earned it."

"You certainly have. Eat up, love. Today will be a busy day."


As they ate, Jamie told her what he had learned from Mrs. McCloud, the proprietor of the inn. "Weel, it seems from the paper she gave me, a newspaper, I think it is, that we have landed ourselves in 1845. That's 100 years from the time we left." He handed her the paper and she skimmed the front page, eyes wide.

She looked up in wonder, saying, "That's close to 100 years from my time as well. Right in the middle. What else did you find out?"

"I asked the lady where we might get some new clothes." He laughed, then, remembering. "She looked me up and down and said, 'I daresay that ye need new clothes, lad. Ye look like you have been through a tough time of it.' I had to tell her something, so I came up with a story to explain everything, right on the spot."

"Oh really? Do tell."

"I told her that we had been riding in a carriage, minding our own business, when it suddenly lurched to a halt. Some armed bandits had fallen upon the carriage and started removing all of our luggage, leaving us with nothing except the clothes on our backs."

"How did you explain the clothes we *are* wearing?" she asked, enthralled with his story.

"Weel, our clothes were very fine, you see. Silks and fine leather, silver buttons and the like. Seeing them, the bandits made us undress and they took our clothes as well!"

Claire laughed at that, picturing the scene. Jamie in some kind of drawers and her in a corset and those funny looking bloomers they used to wear.

Jamie continued, "I told her that we made it to a farm outside of town where a little old lady lived with her husband, who was very ill. Then I told Mrs. McCloud that you were a healer and she asked if I meant 'doctor' and so I said I did. Anyway, I said that you used your knowledge of medicines to help the old man, and the wife was so grateful that she gave us some old clothes she had. They were her parents' clothes, long dead from the pox."

Claire smiled, "Oh Jamie, you are brilliant! She actually believed you, then?"

"Aye, she seemed to."

"You are quite persuasive when you want to be, my love." She smiled warmly and patted him lovingly on the leg. "So, how and where can we get new clothes, suitable for the 19th century? We have no money and I have nothing left to barter."

"Mrs. McCloud said that the dressmaker next door will put things on account, to be paid later. She said that she would arrange it for us since we were in desperate need. The maker of gentlemen's clothes is a friend of Mrs. McCloud's and she said he'd be willing to do the same."

"Wow, what a sweet lady she is to help us like this."

"Aye, she said we reminded her of herself and her late husband, when they were young and just starting out. She said everyone deserves a chance in this world."

Claire's face lit up. "Jamie, we just might make it here. Maybe this is the fresh start that we need."

"Aye, weel…when we get our clothes, I will look for work somewhere. I was thinking maybe I could talk to the owner of the bookstore next door. I've always loved books, all my life, and took courses in literature when I was at University."

"Jamie, that sounds like a great idea. What about me? You know from our days in Paris that I'm not content to just stay at home. The good thing about this century is that women have a little more freedom to work, if they choose to. Maybe I could find a local physician that could use my help."

Jamie smiled, hopeful. "Och, aye, Claire, that would be perfect."


In the afternoon of the same day, the dressmaker came, taking Claire's measurements and discussing the wardrobe that would be made for her.

Claire eyed Jamie and whispered, "We don't have this kind of money, Jamie. How will we pay for it?"

"Leave that to me, mo chridhe. Dinna fash," he whispered back.

The dressmaker took her leave, promising to have a gown delivered that evening for Claire to borrow until her own clothes were ready. Soon after, Jamie left to meet with the men's clothier at a shop a few blocks down from the main square.


While Jamie was gone, Claire took the opportunity to take a bath. It was glorious. The inn boasted a real clawfoot tub. It still had to be filled the old-fashioned way, as indoor plumbing wouldn't be in general use until the 1890's. Oh how she had missed nice warm baths in a real tub - sitting in a hipbath with her knees up to her chin was not her idea of fun. This, however, was wonderful.

She was still sitting in the tub, washing with the fragrant soap Mrs. McCloud had provided, when Jamie walked in, sporting a rather fetching ensemble of frock coat and trousers, complete with top hat and leather shoes.

"Oh, my! You look…marvelous!" Claire said, appreciatively looking him over from head to toe.

Jamie came closer to the tub and knelt, taking her wet hand. "My dear, *you* are the one who looks marvelous." He bent to kiss the hand in a very gentlemanly fashion.

"But I'm naked!"

"Exactly," he replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. His lips traveled from her hand down to her elbow, leaving kisses along the way. He looked up at her again, noticing that she was breathing faster.

"God, Jamie. You look so good right now that I want to tear off those fancy clothes and have my way with you."

Jamie laughed. "All in good time, my love. First, I will help you bathe."

"But you'll get all wet and ruin your new clothes."

"Ah, weel, I suppose I'll have to take them off after all."

He did take them off, very slowly. It was a sweet torture for Claire. She knew he was teasing her, and she would get him back for it - eventually. Just now, though, all she could think of was him. Once he had fully undressed, he made his way to the tub and climbed in behind her. She leaned back against him as he scooped up handfuls of the warm soapy water, pouring it over the slopes of her breasts.

"Ahhhh. That's so…nice," she said, sighing in bliss.

"Aye, it is."

After a while, a thought occurred to her. "You know, we are due to dine with Mrs. McCloud tonight, after my dress arrives."

"Aye," he said, distractedly. He was intent on kissing her neck and giving her a nip on her earlobe.

She giggled, "Jamie, you'll have to stop that, or we will lose track of time. You know if this goes where it usually goes, we won't have time to dress for dinner."

"Claire, to be honest, I really dinna care. There are worse things in life than being late for dinner, particularly if ye are making love to yer lovely wife." His hands slipped below the water, touching her intimately. "And I intend to do just that."

Indeed, they were *very* late for dinner.