Grace to the Humble
Cornwall, 1991
The Doctor came bounding out of the Tardis door dressed in a bathing costume courtesy of the year 1910.
"Penzance at last!"
Jamie came out next in swimming trunks and a zippered sweatshirt made of terry-cloth; he was in the middle of blowing up a beach ball when he stopped short.
"Doctor … we're nae on the beach."
The Doctor looked around in dismay. The sea was a bit more distant than the scope of the scanner had implied.
The Tardis was sitting flush against the side of a brick building, which was the corner structure in a row of shops.
"This isn't the beach!" Zoe said, poking out of the Tardis' doorway, pushing a pair of sunglasses up onto her head. She had never been to the seaside, but she knew this was not it. "And I let you calculate this time, Doctor."
"Well, we're in Penzance at least … I think. It looks like Penzance!"
"Nar, yur in Marazion," corrected a passerby. "Penzance is two mile away."
"Ah ha!" the Doctor exclaimed in triumph, stabbing his index finger in the air in front of Zoe. "Two miles off is not bad! Not bad at all. Why, we're practically there!"
"Aye, it's a good deal closer than you got us, Zoe."
Zoe stuck her tongue out at Jamie.
"Marazion …" the Doctor murmured musingly. "There was something about Marazion …
Ah! The famous Saint Michael's Mount is here. Just out there." The Doctor pointed toward the water. "If all these buildings weren't in the way, we could see it."
"Doctor," Zoe tapped him on the shoulder. "May I go to that bookshop over there before we go to the beach?"
The Doctor peered across the street at a classic Georgian shop front, a white plaster facade and two large display windows on either side of the shop door. It may have been the apothecary at one time.
"Of course! In fact, let's all go. I do like a good book browse! Though perhaps we should put some clothes over our bathing costumes first …"
After the trio changed they reconvened in the solar. The Doctor ushered Jamie and Zoe over to a tall Jacobean cabinet, out of place in the minimalist style of the rest of the room. He unlocked it with a key from his pocket and opened it with a flourish.
Inside the cabinet were three columns of shallow drawers. The Doctor ran his hand down the middle column and pulled one drawer out. Jamie and Zoe peered over his shoulders at its contents.
Money.
Time, planet, and country appropriate money. The Doctor counted out ten pounds for them each!
Jamie held the bank note up. "What's this?"
Zoe examined hers closely in fascination, turning it this way and that and holding it up to the light. "This is the first time I've held paper money! I can't believe people used to pay for things with this flimsy piece of paper."
The Doctor looked despairingly between the two of them. "Oh, dear. I see a crash course in 20th century finances is in order."
—-
"Doctor, what month is this?" Jamie asked suddenly as they browsed.
"August."
"My birthday's in August!"
"Really?" Exclaimed the Doctor. Zoe, who was at the other end of the aisle from them, turned.
"What day?" She asked.
"Tha' I cannae rightly remember. I do know I was Christened on the twenty-second."
"Well, since it is August, why not celebrate it today?" The Doctor declared with a broad smile.
…...
"I don' see anythin' tha' catches my fancy." Jamie said to the Doctor who was chuckling over the first few pages of Heavy Weather by P.G. Wodehouse. "I'm quite happy with that Stevenson fellow and the copy of Burns from yer library."
"Well, I'm getting this for myself," the Doctor said, holding up the paperback, "then I'll lend it to you when I'm done. Nothing quite so diverting as Wodehouse, don't you know."
"Alreeght, I'll wait outside."
Zoe, for her part, had been drawn to a display table of books, bestsellers for the year they were in. One stack was all by someone named Winston Graham, but it was the next stack that caught her eye. The sight of the tartan on the cover was what interested her. She picked up the paperback and inspected it.
"Outlander."
She flipped the book over and looked at the back. As she scanned the synopsis her jaw dropped. She glanced around to make sure Jamie was nowhere near. she was not sure how he would feel about a work of fiction regarding his time period, his people, and the main character even bearing his name. Zoe stifled a wicked giggle. This was definitely going to be her beach reading!
Around the display of Outlander books were similar Scotland related items to entice further purchases by fans. There were coffee table books on the Highlands, cookbooks, tartan patterned coasters, tea cups with thistles painted on. Then there were little plastic rectangles with pictures of men on them dressed a lot like Jamie and holding that strange instrument he played in Virginia.
"Those are cassette tapes."
Zoe turned to see the Doctor behind her. "They play music."
"Oh. I think I've heard of them."
"I actually have what the people of this time would call a "Walkman". It plays cassette tapes and it's a radio. I think I'll give the thing to Jamie for his birthday."
Zoe looked at him askance. "Cheapskate."
"I am not! If I was I wouldn't have given you two ten p… Oh … Zoe, you're teasing me."
Zoe laughed and picked up a tape that was labeled "The Best of Scottish Music, Past and Present."
"I'll buy this for Jamie."
When they exited the shop and reconnected with Jamie the Doctor suddenly put a hand to his stomach. "Ooh, I'm feeling a bit peckish after all that browsing and there appears to be a tea room next door. Anyone for elevenses? My treat."
—
They got a coveted seat by one of the windows; Zoe looked out to admire the mysterious Saint Michael's Mount, the tidal island just offshore. It looked more like a fantasy castle belonging to the Land of Fiction than the real world. It was high tide, making it appear as if it just rose out the sea, as is. Its rocky outcrop was topped by the castle and spiraling below it, nestled among hardy trees, was a tiny village of its own.
"When's yer birthday, Zoe?" Jamie suddenly asked.
His question broke into her reverie; she was taken aback.
"I … don't know," she answered with some embarrassment. "I know the year I left the chamber, but not the exact date. Only the year is considered important for marking our ages."
"When ye say chamber, do ye mean the room where yer mither gave birth to ye?"
"No," The Doctor cut in. "People aren't made that way in her time—except by a small minority."
"Ey?" Jamie gave the Doctor and Zoe each a long look, curiosity and dread clearly at war within him. He opened his mouth and took a breath, but then stopped short. "I want tae ask ... but dinnae think I want tae know."
It was at that moment the food arrived: a flowery China teapot filled with piping hot black tea, a tiered tray of sandwiches, scones, and small bowls of rich clotted cream and jams.
"I'll play mother," The Doctor said, pouring the tea. Jamie snickered and Zoe looked confused. "It's just an expression," the Doctor said, casting a look of mild exasperation at them both.
"Oh!" Zoe suddenly exclaimed. "I almost forgot!" Zoe opened her purse and began to rummage.
She pulled out the gift bag from the bookstore and handed it across the table. "Happy Birthday, Jamie!"
Jamie had just bit down on a scone and blinked at her in blank surprise.
"Fhrme?" He said through the scone. He kept
it between his teeth to take the gift then hastily finished his bite as he pulled the cassette tape out of the bag. He inspected it front and back.
"Wha' is this?"
The Doctor jumped in to explain and told him about the tape player back on the Tardis. "It's a little like that transistor radio you were so enamoured with back in London. You put this in it and it plays the music listed on the case there."
An appreciative smile spread across the Highlander's face. "Thank ye, Zoe! I cannae wait tae listen to it!"
Zoe beamed back, pleased her gift was so well received.
Jamie gave the cassette one last look before stashing it in his sporran.
When they left the tea room for the beach Jamie's thought became preoccupied with how else babies could possibly be made … And why would they want to do it any other way and forego the pleasurable privileges of the marriage bed?
—-
"Och! The sea!" Jamie enthused gazing out at the blue-green horizon. "Now this truly reminds me of home." Jamie closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the tangy salt air.
"I love it!" Zoe cried. She unfurled her towel and got out her sunscreen, eager to experience all the ocean had to offer.
The Doctor hastily slathered himself with the sunscreen then took off running down towards the water.
"Remember when he was like this last time?" Jamie said with a chuckle as he speared the sand with the beach umbrella.
Zoe looked up at him, squinting against the sun. "Last time?"
Jamie froze. "Och, right—sorry—that was …" he trailed off, busying himself with laying out the beach towels.
That was Victoria.
Jamie suddenly whipped off his terry-cloth sweatshirt. "I'm gettin' in!" He declared. He was not going to let the negative association ruin his day. He was determined to make some new, better memories.
"Wait, Jamie, you need some sunscreen, too."
"You mean that white stuff the Doctor put on?"
"It protects your skins's outermost layers from being burned by the sun's ultraviolet rays."
Jamie waved her off. "Och, I dinnae need it."
"Well, at least help me with my back then. You may be okay with getting burnt, I'm not. I was going to ask the Doctor to do it …" Zoe held up the bottle then half turned away to present her back to Jamie.
She heard footsteps crunch the sand behind her, but Jamie did not take the bottle. Zoe twisted to look over her shoulder.
Not only was Jamie gone, he was running full tilt to the ocean.
Zoe let out an annoyed huff. If she ended up burning in that awkward, unreachable spot in the middle of her back, she would blame Jamie.
As Zoe applied the sunscreen she felt her spirits sink a little.
She had told herself she did not care, and at first she hadn't. The Doctor was clearly pleased as punch to have her on board, so what did it matter how Jamie felt? But of course, as time went on, and he seemed to enjoy having her around the feelings of disquiet quieted, but then moments like that were jarring reminders that she had taken somebody else's place, someone missed terribly by Jamie; someone, that if given the hypothetical choice between them, he would pick to keep over Zoe.
"Zoe!" The Doctor shouted to her from the ocean, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Come on in! The water's fine!" Jamie smiled and also motioned her to come in. As usual, she shut such pointless thoughts down and put on a smile, determined to enjoy herself.
Zoe removed the kimono she had found in the Tardis to use as a wrap. The suit she was wearing was originally procured from the 1940's. It was an attractive colbalt blue with a square neck and medium sized straps. The top of the bust area had white piping that followed a sweetheart collar shape even though the actual collar was a straight line. The material modestly covered her hips and upper thighs.
"Do ye ken how tae swim, Zoe?" Jamie asked as she began to wade in.
"Yes. As part of my training for my duties on the Wheel they had me swim in a pool to train for space drills."
Once Zoe got in the water the horseplay commenced and they all had a wonderful time, until they all got out and Jamie decided to make a sandcastle and Zoe decided she would help.
"You should aim to have the liquid volume to dry sand ratio at a fraction of one percent—meaning, by volume, you need to combine ninety-nine parts of perfectly dry sand with one part water to build a structurally sound sand castle. Too much liquid will destabilize it."
Jamie rolled his eyes and squinted up at her.
"Do ye need tae analyze the fun out of everythin'?"
"Analyzing is fun," she said sincerely, a slight pout forming on her lips.
The Doctor crouched down in the sand beside Zoe. "I agree," he said gently, "why don't we prove your point by making a better castle than grumpy old Jamie here? Hm?"
A wide smile split Zoe's elfin face.
"Yes, let's!"
As she and the Doctor worked Zoe happily rattled off more facts to which the Doctor nodded affably along as if he were listening to a good sermon.
Jamie's mood, on the other hand, was getting blacker by the minute.
"The formation of capillary bridges between sand grains are the cause of the stiffness of sculptured wet sand in a sandcastle, as opposed to dry sand which can hardly or not support its own weight. Qualitatively, the liquid leads to the formation of capillary bridges between the sand grains and the curvature of the liquid interface leads to a capillary pressure causing a force of attraction between the grains. This then creates a network of grains connected by pendular bridges and allows, for example, creating complex structures such as sandcastles. Not many quantitative studies on the mechanical properties of wet sand exist, in spite of the fact that the handling and flow of granular materials is responsible for roughly ten percent of the world energy consumption."
Jamie groaned inwardly and glanced over to see a large, gorgeous castle rising from the sand like Saint Michael's Mount nearby. His was a sorry mess.
"Och! I give up!" Jamie threw down the clump of sand in his hand, walked back up to his blanket and threw himself down upon it. He grabbed his book and practically buried his face in it.
"I think we've made our point," the Doctor said with an impish grin. Zoe felt devilish smile twitching at the corner of her own lips.
Serves him right.
The Doctor wandered off to go beachcombing and Zoe joined Jamie the on the blankets to read.
Jamie's book was a little hardcover volume in red cloth binding. Gilded letters on the front and the spine read "The Poetry and Songs of Robert Burns: A Pocket Edition." Zoe had noticed him reading it before, in the Tardis.
A few minutes of quiet reading was interrupted by Jamie chuckling. Zoe ignored him until a peal of laughter burst from his lips.
"What's so funny?" Zoe asked, twisting her head to look at him. Jamie started and immediately dropped the open book down onto his chest.
"'Tis not fit for lassies tae read," he said archly.
Zoe rolled her eyes. "Oh, I see." She then rose to her feet and stretched. Jamie glanced up at her then quickly back to the page in front of him.
"I'm going to go back into the sea to cool off."
"Aye." Jamie waved her away, not looking up from his book again.
—
While Zoe was in the water, out of curiosity, Jamie picked up the book Zoe had been reading. When he read the synopsis his eyebrows shot up. He immediately flipped it open and scanned through it, his expression getting darker with each page.
"O' course this tripe was written by a sassenach … a colonial sassenach at that …"
Zoe happened to be halfway back up to their spot when she saw Jamie with Outlander. Well, she had been curious as to how he would react … and he did not look happy.
"Jam—"
The Highlander quickly shut the paperback with a blush and fixed the approaching Zoe with a look of reproach. "This is a deeirty book!"
Zoe reached for the volume but Jamie deftly moved it out of reach.
"Give it back, Jamie."
"Nae, ye cannae read this!"
"I can read what I like, James MacCrimmon!" She made another grab for the book but he held it above his head. In vain Zoe got up on her toes to try and reach it. Jamie turned away and marched down the beach toward the water. Zoe sprinted after him.
"Jamie, don't you dare!"
Jamie had just reached the edge of the tide when Zoe caught up with him and leapt upon his back, wrapping her legs around his torso.
"Zoe, ge'off! Argh! I'm doin' this tae save your soul!" Jamie idly wondered if his own soul in was peril the way his thoughts were going with Zoe climbing him like a tree.
Zoe stretched her arm along his arm toward her prize. Suddenly, it was snatched out of Jamie's hand, not by Zoe, but by the Doctor.
"What is going on here?" He demanded sharply.
"Jamie won't give me back my book!" Zoe cried, hopping off of the Highlander.
"It's an insult to my kin and it's sinful!" Jamie stabbed the air with a finger to emphasize his words.
"Oh, come now, Jamie," said the Doctor chided, idly flipping through its pages. "You cannot go forcing your moral standards on other pe— OH MY WORD!" The Doctor turned and swiftly chucked the book into the ocean.
"Doctor!?" Zoe shrieked in shock.
The Doctor blinked and looked blankly at his hand, then he looked back at a glowering Zoe. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, slowly backing away.
"N-n-now, now, Zoe, th-there-there are better things to be reading. I-I won't have you polluting your brilliant mind with that sort of thing!"
"But you just said—Ooh! Never mind!" Zoe dashed into the water.
Luckily, the Doctor's arm was not very good and so had not managed to throw it far.
When Zoe stalked out of the sea, dripping book in hand, she gave both men the meanest glare she could muster. The Doctor had the good sense to look cowed and apologetic—Jamie did not.
Zoe opened the book and lay it face down to get some air flowing through it.
"'This is why women shouldnae be allowed to read!" Jamie said peevishly to the Doctor. At that same moment two bikini-clad women passed in front of them and glared daggers at Jamie.
Jamie's eyes followed their progress, his mouth hanging slightly open. "Hey … th-they they hardly have anythin' on!"
"Staring's just as rude in the 20th century as it is in the 18th, Jamie," the Doctor admonished. Jamie looked back at the Doctor to see he was also watching the retreat of the ladies' sun burnished backs. Jamie put his hands on his hips.
"I'm impressed ye can see anythin' with tha' muckle plank in yer eye," he said dryly.
The Doctor started and flushed, fixing the smirking Highlander with an annoyed look. "Yes, thank you for the sermon, Jamie," he said flatly. "Maybe you should have gone into the clergy instead of being a piper."
Jamie began to laugh but his laughter died on his lips when he saw Zoe marching down the beach with his and the Doctor's books in hand.
"Not Burns!"
"Not Wodehouse!" The Doctor and Jamie cried simultaneously. The Highlander ran towards her.
"Zoe, don't ye dare! I swear I will put ye across my knee if ye—"
Zoe snapped the little red volume into the sea like a frisbee and Wodehouse received the same treatment.
Jamie reactively made a move to grab her, as if to make good on his threat, but Zoe danced away. Jamie decided not to waste time chasing her and waded in after his book, swearing in Gaelic all the way. The Doctor was right behind him, furiously paddling.
When Jamie snatched his quarry he climbed out of the water and stopped in front of Zoe, chest heaving, hair dripping.
"Why … ye—"Jamie panted.
"By your standard it's only fair," Zoe said, cooly meeting his fierce gaze. "You yourself said it wasn't fit for lassies to read."
Jamie flushed. "Tha's different!"
"Is it?"
The Highlander and the Astrophysicist stared each other down. The Doctor looked worriedly back and forth between the two young people. The tension was building—something was about to give.
Zoe could practically read Jamie's thoughts as she watched his face work. The hard set of his jaw told her he was bent on being right, but the gray eyes that searched her face held a flicker of doubt. But, then his gaze hardened.
"Proper ladies dinnae read those kind o' books!"
Zoe was stunned by the unexpected level of hurt that lanced through her at his judgment. The reason was clarified by her next thought:
Proper ladies like Victoria?
"Well!" Zoe growled "I have news for you, Mr. James Robert MacCrimmon …"
Jamie raised his eyebrows in dread expectation, but instead of finishing her sentence Zoe spun around and marched up toward the blankets.
I'm not Victoria.
The words pressed against her lips but she still had enough self-control and presence of mind to not say it. Something told her that if she said that, given Jamie's temperament, it could damage the fragile friendship they had forged.
Jamie immediately followed her.
"Wha'? What were ye goin' tae say?" He reached out and put a hand on her arm. Zoe whipped around, pulling her arm out of his grip.
"I'm not Victoria!"
Jamie flinched as if slapped.
"Ey?"
He glanced back at the Doctor, who looked just as nonplussed, then back to Zoe.
"I ken ye're not …" he murmured, feeling emotionally disoriented. He then repeated it, this time a scornful edge to his voice. "Believe me, I ken ye're not."
Another stab of pain. Zoe blinked back the tears. "Right," she said shakily and began putting clothes on over her bathing suit.
The two men watched her in silent trepidation. When she started striding away along the shore the Doctor shouted after her.
"Wait, where are you going?"
Zoe did not answer but it was clear she was making for Saint Michael's Mount.
The Doctor watched her retreat, wringing his hands. "Oh dear, oh dear. Oh, Jamie, what are we going to do? You don't think she'll leave us do you? It's been so nice having a mathematical brain around."
Jamie stared in stunned silence as Zoe walked further and further away from him, panic rising in his chest.
What just happened?
—
Zoe was still fighting tears as her angry strides ate up the causeway.
What have I done? Jamie was wrong but I've made it worse. Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut? I've ruined everything! What is wrong with me?
Zoe walked up and down the ancient roads and stone steps that wound up to the castle and priory at the top. She tagged behind a tour group whose guide was regaling them with the island's history and legends.
"The earliest peoples believed this island to be the home of a giant named Cormoran who used to leave the island at low tide and terrorize the coastal villages carrying off livestock and maidens. A brave farmer's son named Jack snuck onto the island, dug a large hole right here." The guide pointed to what looked like what was an enormous cistern at one point, now filled in. A sign next to it read "the Giant's Well".
"The giant fell in then Jack split his head open with an axe. He then cut out his heart and it turned to stone. And there it is." The tour guide pointed to a heart shaped cobblestone in the middle of the path.
Zoe bent down to idly admire it.
"Awfully small for giant's heart …"
When Zoe reached the top of the rise and the monastery and castle came into view she heard another tour guide speaking nearby:
"In 495 A.D. local fisherman saw what appeared to be the Archangel Michael standing on this tidal island by a pillar of stone, thus the name. It became a place of pilgrimage. Then, in the 11th century King Edward the Confessor gave the island to an order of Benedictine monks to serve as a sister monastery to the isle of Mont Saint Michel in Normandy, France. Finally, in the 17th century it all became the property of the St. Aubyn family, given to them by them in recognition of their loyalty to the Crown during the English Civil War."
The interior of the castle was beautiful. The paneled and stone walls were painted white and draped with tapestries and accented with hunting friezes. Tall, deep set latticed windows looked out to the sea. Some had stained glass panels depicting legendary scenes. One of the young ladies of the house had apparently tested the authenticity of her diamond engagement ring on the window by carving her initials. There was even a cozy library, sitting room with built in shelves. Books lined three of the four walls.
The older part of the property was the Benedictine priory. She followed the tour inside the chapel.
The moment she stepped in the chapel the serenity of the space overtook her, even the tour guide and the group were hushed. Zoe looked up to admire the timber framed vaulted ceiling and the chandeliers. She took her time to appreciate every modest-sized stained glass window that lined the length of the chapel. But, of course, the most beautiful one was the trio of windows at the end behind the altar. Two narrow windows that flanked a crucifix and one stunning rose window above that.
That sense of calm, like a suspension of time, swept over her again. It was oddly akin to the same awed stillness she would feel in space when looking at the beautiful, multicolored flares of a nebula or watching a star being born through her viewscope.
Zoe sat down in one of the chairs situated in front of the altar. As she stared at it she felt tears coming to her eyes again. She knew what the feeling was now.
Jealousy.
And it was ugly.
And illogical.
It was Illogical to be jealous of someone who wasn't even there!
Remorse descended on her as she suddenly could now relate to how Jamie must feel whenever the Doctor brushed him off to get her opinion over his or when they spoke over his head, leaving him out of discussions, how she sometimes talked down to him as if he were stupid. He was far from stupid. In fact ...
Oh, how she wished Jamie were with her.
Then, as if on cue, the man himself sat down beside her.
"Hello," he said quietly, folding his hands in his lap.
Zoe blinked at him. "Hello." Zoe twisted around to look over her shoulder. "Is the Doctor with you?"
"I left him in the castle admirin' a table."
"Oh."
They sat in silence for a while, looking towards the altar.
"I was wrong."
Zoe turned her head to fix Jamie with a look of surprise.
"I was bein' a hypocrite and shouldnae have ta'en the book from ye. I'm sorry."
She blinked at him, her mouth slightly falling open. "Th-thank you …"
"Ey, don' get me wrong, though, I still believe it's wrong for ye tae be readin' it, but—" Jamie nodded toward the altar, "it's the Lord's job tae convict ye on tha' point, nae mine."
"Thank you …" Zoe repeated but with considerably less enthusiasm. "I'm sorry for throwing your book in the ocean."
Jamie's mouth quirked up in a gentle grin. "I forgive ye."
There was a long pause. Zoe could feel tension building inside her chest. Was he not going to address what she said about Victoria?
Jamie stood and held out his hand to her. "The tide's comin' in, we should get back to the Doctor or we'll have tae pay for the ferry."
Zoe stared at his hand.
He's really not going to bring it up?
Zoe dared to look up into his face and saw that his gray eyes were soft with compassion. She slowly put her hand into Jamie's upturned palm; his fingers closed firmly over hers.
Although theology had not been an area of study for her, as they made their way to the chapel entrance a term Zoe had heard of floated to the forefront of her mind.
He was showing her grace.
—
The sun was getting low in the sky when Jamie and Zoe reunited with the Doctor outside the castle. The Doctor was very ashamed over throwing her book in the water and apologized profusely.
"It's alright, Doctor. I forgive you."
"Oh!" The Doctor fondly patted her cheeks and gave her a shaky smile, his eyes a little moist. "Thank you, Zoe. Don't leave us again."
Zoe took the Doctor's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I won't. I promise."
The trio walked arm-in-arm toward the dock, Zoe in the middle with the Doctor and Jamie on either side.
—
They ended up having to take the ferry back.
On the ferry Zoe was able to add another new experience to her ever growing list: being on a boat. The ferries were more local fishing and pleasure crafts, no bigger than a large dinghy or an old fashioned lifeboat, but they were motorized. The trip was short but the sea air whipping around her was refreshing after their jaunt all over the mount.
When they got back to the mainland they decided to revisit the beach, the one just in sight of Saint Michael's Mount.
Jamie showed Zoe how to find and pull sand crabs out of the swash left by the tide.
"See how when the wave pulls back there are little triangle shapes made by the water against the sand? That's where they burrow. So, if you scoop down under the spot …" Jamie plunged his hand into the sand. "Ye'll find yerself ..." Jamie held out his cupped palms to Zoe and she could see an oval purple-gray thing with antennae at the front and a few layers of shell at the back, like a lobster. "... A sand crab."
Zoe tried it herself and squealed with horrified delight as she felt the little crustacean wriggle around in her loose grip—its tiny claws tickling her palms. She let it loose and watched with fascination as it rolled in the incoming wave then burrowed down into the sand to disappear as the water pulled back.
When twilight came on and the early evening star was on the rise, Jamie built a fire—with suggestions from Zoe thrown in for good measure.
The Doctor unfolded his beach chair, intending to stargaze, but their jaunt had worn him out. He was asleep within minutes.
Zoe, also getting tired, rolled out her beach towel and lay down on her back, tucking one arm under her head and laying the other on her stomach. She stared up at the purpling sky.
"Do ye ken the names of all those stars?" Jamie asked, settling down next to her.
"Of course." Zoe said. She picked out a constellation. "That's Cygnus right there—also known as the Northern Cross. It's made up of nine main stars, eighty-four stars in all, according to the Flamsteed designation …" Zoe stopped and gave Jamie a sheepish look. "Sorry, I'm being too technical again."
"Nae, it's alreeght." Now that his mood was better he realized he had actually come to enjoy her scientific chatter—he liked the way it lit up her face.
" … The brightest of which is Deneb. It also contains NML Cygni, a red hypergiant, one of the largest stars currently known by radius—it is also the most luminous star in the Milky Way. The constellation is also home to Cygnus X-1, a distant X-ray binary containing a supergiant and an unseen massive companion—the first object widely held to be a black hole."
"I've heard of the Northern Cross … We Highlanders call it Eala."
"That's a pretty name."
"What about that one?" Jamie pointed to a star that did not twinkle, but shone with a steady, silvery light.
"Which one?" Zoe propped herself up on her elbow and leaned closer to Jamie in order to get a better idea as to where he was pointing.
Jamie, in turn, also propped himself up and leaned in to emphasize the direction.
"That one." He felt her hair softly brush against his cheek. A little smile of contentment rose to his lips.
"That's the planet Venus."
"Really?"
"Mm-hm."
Jamie lay back in quiet wonder for a moment then he said. "There were more stars in my time it seems."
"It's possible. Stars are born and die all the time—but perhaps you mean there were more stars visible to you in eighteenth century Scotland?"
"Aye. There was a muckle mass o' them."
"There are still lots of stars, Jamie—about a hundred billion or so in the Milky Way alone—although the naked eye can only see about nine thousand and ninety-six of them; the reason you can't even see that much is because there's too much light around us from the nearby towns. It's called light pollution."
"Ah."
"I'm used to seeing more stars, too—-living out in space on the Wheel."
Jamie suddenly sat up.
"Speaking of stars, before I forget …" He opened his sporran and pulled out a tiny brown paper bag sealed with a sticker and handed it to Zoe.
"This is for ye. Happy birthday."
"But … it's not my birthday," she said looking down at the package.
"Ye dinnae ken tha' so why nae say it's today, eh?"
Zoe pulled open the bag with some reluctance, a little guilt resurfacing in her heart. But, her curiosity overcame her reservations. She unwrapped the tissue paper to reveal a silver chain, as delicate as thread, and on it hung a sterling silver charm in the shape of a starburst with eight points radiating out of its center. The whole thing was no bigger than her thumbnail. She held it loosely in her hands, looking mournfully down at the beautiful thing.
"Oh, Jamie, it's lovely, but I don't know if I deserve—"
"Ey, don' talk mince, lass."
He took the necklace from her hands and, unclasping the lobster claw fastening, put it around her neck.
"It isnae aboot deserve," he said firmly. "If we all got what we deserve we'd be a sad lot indeed."
After an initial fumble Jamie managed to close the clasp. His fingers brushed the back of her neck. Zoe gave an involuntary shiver.
Jamie admired how the pendant shone against her collarbone, a red star in the firelight.
"It suits ye.".
Zoe gave him a warm smile. "Thank you for my first birthday gift."
Jamie ducked his head a little shyly. "Aye."
Zoe stared out at the sea for a while after that, with her hand on the necklace.
"I think I'll go get some more driftwood for the fire," Jamie announced, getting to his feet.
When he returned he found that Zoe had decided to hunt for more sand crabs. The Doctor was awake and standing with his back to the fire pit, gazing up at the stars.
"Yer up."
"Yes, just admiring the night sky."
Jamie crouched by the fire pit and began to build it back up.
The voices of distant beach goers came to them on the damp breeze.
Jamie, satisfied with his work, rose and moved to stand by the Doctor. He crossed his arms and looked up.
After they stood there in silence for for five or so minutes, the Doctor suddenly mused out loud:
"We said goodbye to Victoria on a beach much like this one …"
"Aye."
"Do you still miss her?"
Jamie looked down at his boot and toed the sand. "O' course … no one can replace her." There was a short pause then Jamie spoke again. "No one can replace Zoe, either."
The Doctor gave the young man a thoughtful look then a mischievous smile appeared on his lips.
"Oh?"
Jamie cleared his throat. "Shouldn't we be getting back to the Tardis now? I don' fancy spending' the night outside—no' that I haven't before—but my old auntie says night air is bad for ye …"
"You're babbling, Jamie—but, yes," The Doctor consulted his pocket watch "by the village clock by which I had set my time, it is ten after ten. We should get going."
Jamie turned around to call Zoe in but found she had been standing right behind him. Panic shot through Jamie.
How long had she been standing there? Did she hear?
She did not say anything, but walked past him to help gather up their belongings; a small, secret smile on her face.
As they packed up and made their way back to the Tardis Jamie kept shooting worried glances her way.
Maybe she didn't hear. I dinnae want tae ask.
—-
Back in the Tardis they bid each other good night and headed toward their respective rooms.
Jamie was about to open his room door when he heard Zoe say his name. He was in the middle of turning around when he felt the feather touch of soft lips brush his cheek.
A ripple of shock went through Jamie. He dumbly touched his face and he gaped down at Zoe who was beaming up at him.
"Thank you for saying I'm irreplaceable."
Jamie blushed and winced with embarrassment. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked away. "Och, you did hear tha' after all."
Zoe nodded, her eyes still shining with gratitude. "I think you're irreplaceable, too."
"Ey? Wh-Wha' d'ye mean?"
"Well, I've actually been thinking about this for some time. Have you noticed that where the Doctor and I are lacking, you seem to excel? You think on your feet, you're good at strategy and are able to adapt to any and all circumstances, no matter how outlandish or illogical—I felt quite at sea for the most part in the Land of Fiction, but not you. On that volcanic island with the Dominators it was your plan to tunnel under their drill to retrieve the atomic seed device, remember? In your own way you are very clever, and in ways that I wish I was. Truly. Without you I think the Doctor or myself would have been dead a hundred times over—I'm speaking in hyperbolic terms of course, but I have done a rough calculation and the actual number is not far off."
Jamie stared at her earnest face. His brain was still trying to register the huge amount of compliments. He was hit with remorse also over the memory of how he had treated her those first few days after she snuck aboard—resenting her for not being Victoria and envious of her intellectual bond with the Doctor that left him feeling deficient as a companion, as she had rightly observed.
But now here Zoe was, humbly acknowledging her own shortcomings and praising his advantages. A nearly overwhelming wave of affection and gratitude swept over him.
Jamie looked up at the ceiling furiously blinking back the tears that suddenly rose to his eyes.
Och! Why're ye being sich a woman aboot this, MacCrimmon?
Zoe's own eyes widened as she witnessed his reaction. Good heavens, had she made him cry? I thought he'd be happy ...
Jamie dragged his hands down his red face and pulled himself together. On seeing Zoe's dismayed expression he reached out and lightly pinched her cheek. "Dinnae fash yerself. Ye jist turned my heid is all. I'm nae used tae sich muckle praise, especially nae from ye."
Zoe jerked her face away and rubbed her cheek, shooting him an annoyed glare, but there was no heat behind it.
Jamie gazed down at her with a thoughtful expression then, with just a bit of hesitation, he leaned down and tenderly kissed her on the cheek.
"Thank ye, Zoe-lass," he whispered.
An odd dizziness swept over her, much akin to the dizziness she felt in Virginia after she had downed all those glasses of applejack. Then she had had the alcohol as an excuse, but what was the explanation for the strange, warm headiness she was feeling now? Was she coming down with something?
Jamie cleared his throat and stepped away, sticking his thumbs in his belt. "Weel, I guess I'll say goodnight now."
Once back in her room Zoe sat on the edge of her bed and pressed the back of her hands to her warm cheeks. The spot that Jamie pinched/kissed still tingled. She did not feel right at all. She would have to have the Doctor check her vitals in the morning ...
—
A/N: I was so tickled when I found out that the authoress of Outlander was given the idea by Doctor Who, specifically Jamie! I also found out that the UK title for the book was "Cross-Stitch" but no one knows it as that, and "Outlander" is the original title and catchier.