Midnight came and passed long ago, but Claire still tossed and turned in her bed. She could not sleep. It almost made her angry. She was tired by the trip, and she would have to get up early on the morrow to visit their tenants and check on their health. She had to be as fit as possible and therefore sleep. But sleep didn't come, and Claire didn't like falling asleep without Jamie's warm presence by her side. Turning once more, she cursed and shoved her foot away from the rough blanket that kept her awake. Obviously, it had no responsibility in her inability to fall asleep, but Claire was glad she could blame the blanket or the heat. It was always better than thinking that her husband wasn't there because he was one floor down with John and her blessing.

The door was slightly opened. Claire listened but heard nothing coming from downstairs. It was probably a good sign; at least they weren't yelling or gutting each other. Or, they had managed to do it very quietly. Claire was tempted to go downstairs and join them. Would she find them sitting quietly talking? Kissing on the bench? Or would John have left the house outraged? Jamie was perfectly capable of going to sleep in the stable if he had been too frustrated with his inability to communicate calmly with John. Claire started to get up, thought of curling herself in the blanket to come down, then gave up. She had given her consent. Whatever happened tonight was up to them.

Maybe she should have taken the bed in the infirmary to give them the possibility of going back to the room. No. It was unlikely that things would go very far just yet. Better to allow everyone to retreat to a different room, to think about what had happened and what could happen next. There would be questions and long discussions before they found a balance, if they did.

Determined to fall asleep this time, Claire turned on her back and closed her eyes. Almost immediately, she opened them again and stared at the ceiling. She had to be crazy to accept and encourage what was going on under her roof. She wondered, once again, how she had come to the decision that she liked John enough to think it a good idea. She felt for John a deep affection and compassion seasoned with slight guilt. It was not enough to explain her feeling towards the situation. Yes, she had to be crazy because she couldn't find a rational reason. People didn't share a man like they shared a friend. And yet, Claire loved Jamie, John loved him too, and Jamie could have loved either one of them if the circumstances had been different. Claire was content they would have an answer to these ifs and these maybe, at last. They all knew what each of them was feeling. It was time to stop looking away and face the truth. At their age, after what they had experienced, together or separately, it was ridiculous to still live in the ambiguity.

The wooden steps creaked softly. Claire was taken from her thoughts. She turned again and stared at the door through half-closed eyes to watch Jamie creep into the room as quietly as possible. He undressed and joined her under the sheets, brushing her bare skin in the process. Hesitantly, he put his hand on her thigh and kissed her lightly, cautiously, as if reluctant to wake her. Claire didn't pretend to be asleep and moaned under his caress. There was a faint taste of alcohol on his lips. He hadn't drunk much, probably just enough to find some courage. Clearly, he was far from tipsy. He was also very hard.

"I want you Sassenach," he whispered, nibbling her ear. "Do you?"

"Always", she moaned.

He made love to her slowly, and none of them said a word. Claire didn't ask if his excitement had sprung from his frustration at not going further with John. She didn't ask if they had chosen not to go that far or if they were angry at each other. Maybe Jamie needed to reassure himself or her by making love to her like this. It didn't matter. She returned his kisses, letting her doubts and questions go away. After, when they were curled up against each other, she fell asleep strangely easily.

In the morning, her fears hit her again. Jamie was still asleep, and Claire refused to turn back and forth in bed until he woke up. Carefully, she removed his hand from her hip and left the bed. Once dressed, she tiptoed down and went to the kitchen. There wasn't much in the cupboards yet, as the house was barely livable. She looked out the window at the falling rain, winced and resigned herself to run to Marsali's place.

The young woman graciously gave her everything she needed and placed it in a basket. William just woke up. Claire put him on her hip, grabbed the basket with the other hand and walked back to the big house. To have a child clinging to her once again was bittersweet. She missed Brianna so much, both the young woman who smiled and let her go and the little girl who was gone forever. Trying not to think about it, she sat William down on the bench and let him sleep a little more while she made breakfast.

John soon joined them. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, obviously eager to offer some help but hesitant to meet her gaze. Finally, he made up his mind and sat down next to William to talk with him in a low voice. John and Claire were giving each other sidelong glances, but neither dared to speak. They were aware of each other's gaze but were unable to find the words. Jamie's arrival did nothing to ease the tension in the room. Only William ignored it and, wide awake now, provided most of the conversation. Young Ian had told him about all the animals at Fraser's Ridge, and he was so excited he almost screamed his desire to meet them all.

"I could take him with me," Jamie offered, giving John a hopeful look. "Show him the area. I'll have to inspect everything either way."

Slowly, John nodded. Willie cried with joy. At this sight, John and Jamie exchanged a fleeting smile.

"Oh, that's wonderful", said the child, clapping his hands. "You're coming with us, dad, aren't you?"

"In fact", Claire intervened before John could answer, "your father has already offered to accompany me on my visits this morning."

John gave her a startled and slightly worried look, but he did not protest. Claire was glad. Her invitation sounded a lot like a summons, and in his place, she would have vehemently refused. In truth, he couldn't refuse. After what happened last night, she had nothing to lose. He, however, could lose everything. Jamie smiled at her intervention, then shifted the conversation back to the wildlife that could be seen nearby, much to William's delight. Struggling to refrain her amusement, Claire just listened as she watched John push his plate away. He lost his appetite. Claire would have felt sorry for him if but her stomach was upset too. She'd been thinking over and over again what she wanted to say to him.

William listened intently to Jamie's discourse, gulped down his porridge and jumped off the table as soon as he was done. Jamie had no choice but to put his own bowl down and follow him, sighing conspicuously but inwardly delighted. He stood up and walked around the table to give Claire a quick hug. After a moment's hesitation, he put his hand on John's shoulder and squeezed it briefly. They exchanged a slightly nervous half-smile, then Jamie walked out the door after his son. Claire and John finished their own breakfast in awkward silence. Soon they were done. John stood up immediately. He gestured to take the leftovers from their meal and clean the table. Claire stopped him.

"Leave it. It can wait a few hours, but I can't wait to see my patients."

John bowed and followed her as she walked to her infirmary.

"I believe I am the cause of you being away from them lately. I am sorry for that."

"It's not a reproach. I was more worried about your condition than theirs. Besides, there has not yet been someone so seriously ill that I dare not leave, so I have no reason to blame you."

John didn't answer and nodded absently, lost in his thought. Claire was careful not to interrupt him and quickly gathered what she needed for her tour in a large basket. They went to the house of Claire's first patients, only exchanging a few words about the weather and the trip from Charleston. Finally, John began to question her about the patients she was seeing, but she didn't really have time to tell him about it before they reached the door. Immediately, Claire found herself being overwhelmed by a mother worried about her feverish children. She set to work, aware of John's attentive gaze on her.

The rest of the morning went the same way. They went from house to house, walking slowly in almost comfortable silence, interspersed with discussions about Claire's patients. John was visibly astonished by her methods, very different from this time's doctors, so he had many questions to ask her. Finally, he asked the question that had plagued him since the morning.

"You are a talented and intelligent woman, Claire. There is no doubt about that. I already knew it from your letters. It is why I cannot understand what game you are playing. You know how I feel about Jamie. How can you be so delighted to welcome me here and..."

He didn't finish his idea and almost choked on his words. Claire still wasn't sure exactly what had happened between him and Jamie the night before, but she doubted that was what he couldn't talk about.

"Did I ever tell you that I was married before I married Jamie?"

Not understanding where she was going with this turn of conversation, John frowned and searched his memories.

"I think I remember a mention of that fact it in one of your letters, that he died soon before you met Jamie."

"I seriously doubt I phrased it that way. More likely, I said I lost him recently."

"Mayhaps. Does the wording matter?"

"In this case, yes, because I was sort of a bigamist for almost twenty years."

This time John literally choked, stunned by her revelation. Claire couldn't help but smile before rushing to his aid to help him get his breath back.

"I apologize. I was a little brutal."

"Brutal? You almost killed me! Does Jamie know that?"

"From the first months of our marriage. I will tell you the details if you wish, but my goal was not to surprise you with this revelation. I meant to say that I loved Jamie despite myself and common sense, and for a while, I still loved Franck. When I believed Jamie was dead and returned to him, I realized I couldn't love him as I did before. The love between us was gone. My love for Jamie was too strong. Our separation had been too brutal. Worse, Franck looked too much like another man I hated for what he had done to Jamie. It wasn't his fault, but still. I couldn't see past that."

"And unaware that Jamie was alive, you stayed with him for almost twenty years. Why?"

"I'll tell you that too," Claire eluded, trying not to think of Brianna. "My point is that I have loved two men in my life. For a moment, I loved them at the same time. Not in the same way, not with the same intensity, but at the same time. So how can I judge?"

"It's not the same thing at all!"

"Are you going to steal Jamie from me?"

John laughed softly but didn't smile.

"I couldn't if I would," he admitted with sorrow.

Claire refused to feel relief upon hearing this confession. She felt genuine affection for John. She knew Jamie would never leave her. However, hearing from John that she was safe was comforting. It allowed her to truly give her blessing to whatever might happen. She gave her arm to John and started to walk.

"You're part of this family, the family that Jamie and I have built for ourselves. No one was born in it. Murtagh was Jamie's godfather and his mother's suitor, Fergus, a thief from the streets of Paris we picked up. Marsali is the daughter of the wife Jamie took while I was away, also becoming a bigamist. Do you still doubt your place here with us?"

Slowly, John tore his arm from Claire's grip. He was pale, and his hand was shaking. He seemed to be making an inhuman effort to stay calm.

"I need to think, madam. Would you mind if I let you finish your visits alone?"

"Not at all."

Claire watched him walk away between the trees, his step firm but visibly troubled. He was going through the same torments as she and Jamie as they sailed towards Jamaica. Claire sympathized and wondered if he would come to the same conclusions as them.

She didn't have time to think about it; the people of Fraser's Ridge occupied her mind for the remainder of the day with their various problems. There were colds or broken bones to heal and a dozen other minor ailments that kept Claire busy. She ignored John and Jamie for the rest of the day. Even after she got home, she barely took the time to say two words to Jamie and Willie, chatting on the porch before getting absorbed by her work in the infirmary. Perhaps she was secretly relieved to have an excuse not to have time to ask herself more questions. The trip from Charleston had been bad enough.

John reappeared in the evening as the whole family began to sit down around the table set by Marsali in the big house. During the day, Ian and Fergus had started to furnish it a bit more. Now, the room felt more homely.

John was given curious looks because his boots were in an awful state, but no one said a thing about it. Everyone began to eat hungrily. People complimented Marsali on her cooking, and all listened indulgently to Willie, describing every animal and plant he had seen in detail. Jamie drank his words happily and complimented him on his memory. John stayed silent, just nodding to mark his approval whenever the child asked him to confirm that Fraser's Ridge was beautiful. Claire couldn't help but glance at him regularly, searching his face for some indication of what he had decided. Twice she caught Jamie doing the same.

Claire had hoped they were not too obvious. Jamie too, probably. However, the rest of the family were not mistaken by either of them. No Fraser, born or raised, was a fool. Fergus, in particular, was giving Claire curious glances. He knew perfectly well that her face revealed everything, so Claire made monstrous efforts to remain stoic throughout the meal. She refrained from blushing several times and was very careful to keep her hands around her glass. That way, she couldn't fold and unfold her napkin nervously. However, she couldn't stop her foot from tapping feverishly on the floor several times, causing the bench to shake a little.

Once the stomachs were full, the conversation withered. Willie and the baby had fallen asleep during the meal, the first in John's lap, the second in Marsali's arms. She and Fergus exchanged a quick glance and stood up almost at the same time.

"I can see ye're still tired from the trip," Marsali noted, bowing politely to John. "We're not going to keep yer up too long."

"Yes," Fergus added, an amused glint in his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you still have a lot to talk about... or to do before you sleep."

The tone was very suggesting. John let out a horrified throat noise. Claire gave him an amused look before she realized why the English nobleman had turned so pale. She and Jamie knew they were among parents who would never betray or despise them. It wasn't the same for John. He risked his life and his career if anyone came too close to the truth. Claire realized she had no idea if his own family knew. How many of these young men had she seen in the war hospital, bleeding, acknowledging with shame they had argued with their family, while another young man, officially just a friend, stayed by their side until the end? She felt a new and powerful surge of compassion and affection towards John. She grabbed his hand on the other side of the table. He looked up in astonishment. Claire smiled briefly at him before returning her gaze to their visitors and met Marsali's. The young woman had seen Claire's gesture and blushed before rolling her eyes and muttering a few quick words in gàidhlig. She spoke too fast for Claire to be sure she understood, but she seemed to question the Frasers' madness and her own sanity for joining them against her mother's advice. She still smiled after that and bowed to John again.

"What my foolish husband means, Lord John, is that we are delighted to have ye with us. Fraser's Ridge isn't much yet, but we're Scottish. There's always room for the family."

John saw Margali's gaze linger on their hands. Claire felt him tense as she spoke. When Marsali stopped talking, he nodded silently to thank her but remained uneasy until the door closed on the young couple and their child. Jamie leaned against the door, holding it closed, and laughed softly.

"I didn't raise fools," he sighed.

It was so close to what Claire was thinking earlier that she laughed too, just as nervously. John gave them a startled look.

"I don't think I can ever understand you both."

He said it with sadness, almost fatalism as if he couldn't even be jealous of what Claire shared with Jamie. She might have decided to accept the situation, Claire felt a pinch of satisfaction. Really, she was ready to share Jamie with him, even to love him in her own way. Knowing that John considered that he could never have that was satisfying, even if she was ashamed of that thought. She wasn't perfect. Besides, if their situation was reversed, Claire was sure John would feel the same. She grabbed his hand again and forced him to meet her gaze.

"How could you?" She asked softly. "There is so much that Jamie and I have kept quiet... But if you are to be part of our family, you have a right to know."

"What if I don't want to?"

John's voice almost broke at the last word. Claire felt her throat tighten as well. In his place, she would probably be unable to refuse. Yet, her pride would revolt against the idea. If John was leaving tomorrow, he would prove he had a lot more strength, or pride, than she ever had.

Jamie stepped forward and placed his hand on John's shoulder.

"I would entrust my life and my soul to you, John, you know that. Whatever your decision, you have long earned our trust and our secrets. Including the one that we entrusted to one person only."

"I'm listening then."

The Englishman glared at them, as if he expected them to go back on that promise. Claire opened her mouth, but Jamie shook his head.

"Not tonight, Sassenach. God knows that this story is hard enough to believe in the middle of the day. Ye ken that. At this hour of the night, by the fire? John would think we mock him."

"Never," he protested warmly.

"Trust me, my friend. Wait until tomorrow for this story.

"I have your word?"

"Ye have."

"Then I will ask again. But that matter aside, we still must talk about some things. I would say this conversation will be easier at night."

Obviously, neither of them would be able to sleep without getting some answers to appease their respective torments. Jamie nodded slowly. He was troubled, as impatient as he was reluctant to the idea of this conversation. She was too. John was sitting straight, his chin was up, but there was no hint of confidence in his eyes, and his hand was shaking now. Neither of them knew how to start or what to say. Claire finally got up and smoothed her skirts nervously.

"Let's put William to bed," she proposed in a voice that did not shake, not to her great relief. We'll talk after."

They all looked down at the sleeping child who was still lying on the bench, his eyes closed and his head on John's lap. They had totally forgotten about his presence this last few minutes. It was good that he was obviously sound asleep, or they would have to answer some tough questions.

The three of them exchanged an amused smile, and Jamie gently grabbed the child to allow John to stand. After a short moment of reluctance, he handed it back. John and the child disappeared into the hallway. In silence, Jamie and Claire rushed to remove the traces of the meal. Jamie was putting more wood in the fire when John reappeared. He had taken his time, or William had woken up, and he had to wait for him to doze off again. John looked around the room, searching for a place to settle down for this challenging conversation. He looked tempted to put the table in protection between him and them. Jamie straightened up, putting the poker down.

"Come closer to the fire John, it's nicer here, and frankly, you still look ill."

He was still pondering, so Claire took the lead, grabbed his arm, and half dragged him to the chairs Fergus and Ian had brought in earlier. There were only two. Jamie sat on the armrest of Claire's.

"Did William fell asleep well ?" she asked. "Is the infirmary bed big enough to accommodate both of you?"

"It is perfect. I must congratulate you, Claire. You seem ready for any eventuality if I am to believe what I saw in there."

Claire nodded, smiled at the compliment, then inhaled deeply. The moment had come, the one she feared but had largely provoked. She decided she should start.

"We must think about setting up a private room for you both if you decide to stay."

With almost perfect synchronization, the two men straightened up. Claire could feel Jamie's hand on her shoulder. With his thumb, he stroked the birth of her neck. She wondered vaguely if tomorrow he would lean on John's shoulder like this.

John gave her an inquisitive look, completely ignoring Jamie.

"Do you realize what you are offering? Fraser's Ridge is a tiny place. People will chatter and laugh, especially at you, Claire. You don't deserve to be the one to receive condescending looks because her husband..."

He couldn't finish his sentence but still refused to look at Jamie. Instead, he stared at the fire.

"I know what we would get into," Claire replied, as firmly as she could. "Discretion will be required outside these walls, but I've always thought that what happens in a house only concerns the inhabitants. People should only intervene if someone is suffering."

"Discretion? Your family already knows or suspects something."

"And they won't say anything. Our happiness is all that matters to them. Fergus and Marsali will see you as family, and no one will talk about this if we don't start that conversation."

John searched Jamie's eyes for confirmation, then stared at Claire again.

"And you would be willing to share your husband? Not for a few days, for a few months or a few years, until the death of one of us maybe."

"Not without conditions."

John nodded as if he expected it. Claire had had time to think about it and knew what she was ready to accept. She was ready to share Jamie's love and to discover with him how to love this beautiful Englishman for whom she now felt so much affection. Claire knew she would still have most of Jamie's love anyway. There was one thing she wouldn't give away. Whatever happened, Jamie would always join their bed to fall asleep against her. She had spent twenty years dreaming that she would wake up in his arms. She wouldn't let anyone stop her from enjoying it until she died.

Surprisingly, or maybe not, John didn't ask what her conditions were. Instead, he continued to push her to see her limits.

"It is obvious that there would be conditions. But would you be able to share Jamie and feel no jealousy?"

"Jealousy is hard to anticipate, either yours or mine, but we love Jamie enough to be able to act like intelligent adults."

"I kissed Jamie last night," John cut her off with some brutality.

Claire closed her eyes, inhaled twice and opened them again. Yes, the jealousy was there, discreet but real. It wasn't a consuming blaze but an unpleasant tingling somewhere in her guts. She could live with it, though, and she smiled at John. On her shoulder, Jamie's finger stopped circling. His hand was slightly sweaty.

"I think I liked that kiss," Jamie whispered.

He had said it so softly that John could barely hear it, but he immediately fixed his gaze on his. There was a poignant mixture of hope, desire and disbelief in his eyes that squeezed Claire's heart. She was not, never would be in love with him, but there was such sincerity in his gaze that she was definitely ready to welcome him into her household. Besides, with Jamie's knack for getting into trouble, she would need John's help to contain his passion, even at their old age. Of course, Jamie probably thought the exact same thing about her.

She grabbed Jamie's hand and kissed it while searching for his gaze. He immediately stopped staring at John and slid down to the ground to bury his head in Claire's lap for a moment, without letting go of her hand. His breathing was irregular. His pulse, stiff. With clinical detachment, she wondered if she wasn't also doing this to complete the healing of Jamie's trauma and keep Jack Randall's shadow away forever.

At the mere thought of having loved another man's kiss, the shame of Jamie was palpable. Jamie had concealed that attraction and that kiss all day. Now, Claire saw the result. She hadn't seen him so disgusted with himself in years. He was probably all the more appalled as he despised himself for reacting like that to John's touch. The sight tore Claire's heart.

John stood up silently, and Claire lifted her head. His head was down, and his complexion was paler than ever. He refused to meet her gaze and walked towards the door, obviously in a hurry to disappear but trying to do so as quietly as possible, out of respect for Jamie. Claire wanted to call him back, swear he wasn't the cause of Jamie's collapse, or barely, but it wasn't for her to do it.

"Jack Randall," Jamie whispered.

These words echoed in the still almost empty room. John froze and turned around.

"I had no choice," Jamie continued hoarsely. "Claire's life was on the line." John returned to his seat, pulling his chair closer to theirs. He swallowed, once, twice, visibly searching for his words. On his knees, his hands twitched briefly.

"I was fourteen and had just joined the army," he confessed in turn. Claire and Jamie both reached out to grab his hand.