# 29 A Matter of Decorum
By Lady of Spain
A/N: An Outlander flash fic
Summary: Jamie is in shock over Claire's disregard for propriety.
He abruptly sat up straight and looked at her. "I canna understand why ye would do such a thin'. What'll people think? Christ … I wanta ken yer reasons, I do; but god in heaven, whate'er possessed ye, Sassenach?"
Following suit, she tossed her head saucily, her eyes taking on the look of defiance. "It was bloody well getting in my way—falling into my decoctions, contaminating my sterile fields. I couldn't endure it for a minute longer. I grabbed the scissors, and unfortunately, it slipped, and so I kept on cutting away in a fruitless attempt to even it out. I didn't imagine you'd be so upset about it."
He waved a finger in front of her nose. "Weel, of course I'm verra upset. It's unseemly. The neighbors will suppose ye'd been branded an adulteress. Why, the clishmaclaver will be a'runnin' down into the valley, like a bluidy burn in a spring thaw."
"Jamie Fraser—as usual, you exaggerate. I don't believe I could ever become a pariah among the gentility of this borough, no matter the state of my dishabille. Besides, where else are these people to go for medical treatment?"
Her skeptical husband, cocked one eyebrow. The response, though non-verbal was clearly understood by his wife.
She hopped out of the bed as if it was on fire, and pulled down the linen cap from its peg on the wall. "Oh, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! I'll wear this blasted bonnet from now on if it pleases your majesty."
Jamie grinned, his anger all but dissipated. "Oh, aye. I suppose ye will."
With an arm about her shoulder, he attempted to soothe her ruffled feathers. "Dinna fash, Claire. It'll grow back, I expect. And I love ye still, my shorn beauty … hair or no."
"Lovely," Claire grumbled, as she yanked the cap down over her head, rolled over and closed her eyes.
