Jamie smacked his lips and lifted another spoonful of stew to his lips before shoving it in his mouth hungrily. He was on his second bowl and had no intention of stopping soon, this was the best meal they'd had since the last meal Jenny had cooked for them all those months before Culloden. Claire was right, the smoky flavor of the beef and broth mixed with soft potatoes and carrots reminded him of home. Closing his eyes with the heat of the fire against his skin and Claire behind him, Jamie could've thought they were back at Lallybroch. Their real home.

Jamie sat on the floor with his naked back against the couch while Claire sat almost directly behind him with her feet perched on the ottoman beside him. They ate in complete silence except for the moans of appreciation escaping their lips. Every once in a while Claire would hand him her bowl or empty glass and he would quickly refill them for her; placing a kiss on her cheek with each handoff. As if on cue the bottom of Claire's bowl grazed his hair and Jamie bent towards the pot for another serving. He carefully handed it to Claire and sat next to her on the couch with his bowl.

"That was divine, Sassenach," Jamie smiled at her. "my belly hasna been this full for a verra long time."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Claire nodded chewing her food. "I should have done this ages ago with how often that damn stove stops working."

"I second that," Jamie said. "I got a nice sum from Mrs. Jones today. We can get a new one if ye'd wish."

"A new stove?"

"Aye,"

"It's supposed to be brand new; I'd rather call the company and have them come out and repair it."

"If that's what ye want."

Claire set her now empty bowl on the table next to her and rested her head on Jamie's shoulder. Jamie returned in kind by placing his head on her own and they resumed the comfortable silence as Jamie finished the last of his meal. Once he was finished and the bowl was moved out of the way, Claire grabbed his hand and placed his open palm on the expanse of her protruding stomach. Jamie smiled when a small bump hit his hand and he increased his pressure to get a better feel. The bairn had been moving a lot more recently, seemingly reminding its parents– though mostly Claire –of its impending arrival. This child was certainly more active than Faith had been, kicking her and waking her in the middle of the night. Claire couldn't wait until it was cries that woke her instead of pressure on her bladder or a round of football in her uterus.

"We should go to the department store soon," Claire said breaking the silence. "we'll want to be prepared for when it arrives."

Jamie stood from the couch and gently pulled her up by her hands, "Speaking o' things for the bairn, I want tae show ye something." Jamie led Claire out of the house and through their backyard to the shed pausing at the entrance. "Wait here," he had her stand feet away from the door. "Cover y'er eyes, and no peeking!" Claire did as he said and covered her eyes with her hands.

She listened as the door to the shed opened and Jamie went inside. She heard various rustling noises, a couple of curses from Jamie after what sounded like him tripping and falling before the door swung back open. She could hear Jamie place something onto the ground and he was suddenly behind her slowly moving her towards the object. He took her hands away from her face and with a soft command, "Open." She opened her eyes.

"Oh, Jamie," She smiled at the object before her as tears welled in her eyes. Resting on the ground was a baby cradle. It was clearly homemade and explained the amount of time Jamie had been spending in the shed. The framework was made of oak and Jamie had even fashioned a mobile to hang above the baby.

"'Tis not ready yet," Jamie said moving around to touch the cradle. "it still needs a mattress, I havena found the straw tae fashion one yet. Some o' the corners need sanding."

"Jamie, it's perfect." She placed her hand on his cheek and brought his face down for a kiss.

"My Da built our cradles, ye ken? We couldna' afford one from the market, so he built them and then Mam pained them." Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire. "I wanted tae do the same for our bairns. Keep up the tradition. I wanted tae build one for Faith but… time got away from me."

"A wonderful tradition," They rested their foreheads together. "I can't imagine raising this baby without you. Aren't you glad you fell through with me?"

"More so every day, Sassenach, I canna believe I tried tae send ye back tae Frank all alone."

Claire giggled, "That surely would have been a disaster."

"Aye, I ken it."

"You know," Claire ran her hand down Jamie's chest. "It's Tuesday, so Frank will be with his student all night long."

"Oh, really?"

"Mm, yes. Why don't you bring the cradle inside with us and we can retire to the bedroom."

"To bed or to sleep?"

"I think you know." Claire kissed him and pressed her body against his.

After a few moments, Jamie broke the kiss, "We better get moving before I take ye right here. I dinna care who sees." Jamie picked up the cradle and together they hurried into the house.

"Don't be long," Claire said.

"I wilna'," Jamie gave her a final smile before grabbing his dented toolbox off the ground and walking across the street to Millie's house. He'd been over there quite a bit since his first meeting with Millie and it seemed like every week there was a new repair to be completed. Claire knew the real reason for these "repairs", she was obviously physically attracted to Jamie and was constantly coming up with some new excuse to be alone with him. Claire was completely positive that nothing would ever come of it; Jamie was entirely hers. She also didn't mind the income from his trips to Millie's as well as the sense of purpose he gained from going.

Jamie had come into his own over the past few months and had developed a sustainable reputation as a handyworker. He'd fix, build and paint whatever your heart desired for a low price as long as it was within three miles of their home. His promise and compromise to Claire to stay close to her, at nine months pregnant she felt more comfortable with him close by. She didn't want to find herself once again alone giving birth to a child as she had with Faith. Jamie would be there for this one, Claire was going to make sure of it. Besides, even though the locality of his work wouldn't make him world-renowned, it brought in money and kept him busy during the day. He would come and make supper if Claire hadn't done so already. After dinner, Jamie would knit and listen to Claire talk about her day or some program she'd seen on the television. Sometimes, Frank would join them with a cigarette and a dry-humorous story about some faculty drama. Claire found she enjoyed those nights.

Claire waited until the glimmer of Jamie's red hair disappeared behind Millie's door before she turned and walked into the kitchen. The damn stove had refused to light, again, sending Jamie to work without breakfast and no promise of a hot lunch. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed the glass bottle of milk and eggs from the top shelf and the bacon off the bottom, planning to fasten another meal above the fire if she couldn't get the stove to light. Claire listened intently to Frank's footsteps on the floor above her head. For the first time in months, he wasn't gone by the time she and Jamie were awake. Usually, Frank left before they awoke and arrived after they slept if he came home at all. He spent the majority of his time shuffling between the university and his girlfriend's home. They rarely saw each other anymore. Claire wasn't sure if she was thrilled or disappointed.

She opened the bottle of milk and held it a few inches from her nose, she didn't even need to get a full whiff before realizing it was bad. She tossed the milk in the bin and made a mental note to send Jamie out for some more later that evening when he returned home, hopefully before it began to rain. The sky outside was grey with dark clouds just waiting to burst. It was their first winter season in America and Jamie was excited for their first Thanksgiving which was only three days away. During the war, Claire had celebrated a mini-version of the holiday with the American's in her camp. She found their good cheer quite infectious while Frank thought the history to be fascinating and Jamie simply couldn't wait for the food. They would be sharing Thanksgiving with the Nelson's and Claire hoped that Millie would keep her hands to herself.

Claire grabbed the lighter and to her surprise, the stove ignited with the first click, she managed to light another two with similar ease. She smiled proudly to herself and put two pans onto the front burners and placed a kettle over one in the back, then she began laying out the strips of bacon onto the iron skillet. She turned for the eggs and cracked them above the other pan. At least Jamie would have a hot meal waiting for him to warm up his bones when he returned.

"After eight years of rationing, I believe I could wake up to the smell of bacon and eggs every day for the rest of my natural life," Frank said walking into the kitchen.

"Sandy doesn't cook for you?'

"She does… but it's nowhere near as delicious as yours."

"It's the last of the bacon I'm afraid. But I'll send Jamie to the market this afternoon to get some more." Claire flipped the bacon in the skillet as Frank sat on one of the chairs and opened the newspaper that was sitting on the table. She turned around and placed bread into the toaster.

"Sleep well?"

"Rather hard to get comfortable these days." Claire moved to grab the whistling kettle but Frank had beaten her to it.

"I've got it," he assured her. He turned off the burner and grabbed two teacups from the cabinet. He poured them with the steaming water and opened the tin on the counter with a sigh, "this on the other hand is an abomination." He tapped the tin container to let her know what he was talking about.

"That's the way they drink it here. They don't sell it any other way. Trust me, I've looked."

Frank lifted a tea bag and sniffed it, "It doesn't even smell like tea after sitting for weeks in these… paper diapers." Despite the awkward tension, Claire managed a chuckle.

"I'd offer you coffee but Jamie drank the last of it this morning, I'll add that to the list."

Frank ignored her comment and continued talking, "I mean, why change something that works perfectly well? Tea. In a tin. Scoop it out. Put in the pot. Is that really so difficult?"

"I suppose not."

"I'll never understand the American obsession with the new." Claire put down the plates of buttered toast, bacon, and eggs and Frank joined her at the table with the tea. "Everything is new, new, new."

"That's one of the things I like about this country. It's young and eager and constantly looking to the future." She took a bite of her eggs and looked up at Frank wearily. "I'm thinking of applying for citizenship."

"Really?" Frank asked putting the newspaper down to face her.

"I grew up all over the world, I've never been that attached to England. And I want our baby to grow up with a real home."

"Our baby?"

"You know what I meant." Claire moved her gaze off him and onto her plate. She was making every move to avoid him to the point that she didn't notice his hand reaching out to touch hers. She jumped when their skin made contact causing Frank to reel his hand as if he'd been burned.

"Well, there's really no need to apply for citizenship. My employment will provide us with residency indefinitely."

"That's not what this is about."

"You're right, it's not what this is about," Frank reached out to grab her hand but she pulled away from him. "It's about that. A wife who hasn't let me so much as touch her in months–"

"Wife?" Claire scoffed. "If a woman won't let you touch her then that's a conversation you need to have with Sandy, not me. I'm not yours to touch."

"You're joking, right?" Frank laughed in amusement. Claire shook her head and left the table before Frank could say another word; to her disappointment, he followed her into the hall. "Don't just walk away. It's time we dealt with this like adults!"

"Dealt with what?" Claire whipped around to face him. "We had a deal, Frank. I have Jamie and you have Sandy. We agreed to that deal and you can't suddenly change your mind, that's not how it works."

"How it works? You were my wife, then you disappeared for three years, Claire. Three years! When you finally returned to me you were pregnant with the company of another man you claimed to be your husband."

"Jamie and I went through Hell together! We watched innocent men, women, and children die for a lost cause completely powerless to stop it. Then, unwilling to lose everything he tried to send me back so we would be safe, but God let him come with us. We left family, friends, a complete life behind – he's more of a husband than you've ever been!"

"Well, I was your husband first dammit and legally still am. I could have that Highlander of yours taken and you'd never see him again, would you like that? Then we'll see who's your husband. "

Claire grabbed the ashtray from the shelf behind her and threw it at Frank who barely managed to duck in time before it smashed against the wall behind him. Frank looked from the shattered pieces of glass to Claire in shock. They stood in silence staring at each other. After a few moments, Frank walked out of the room and reappeared with his hat, coat, and briefcase. He began towards the door but stopped with his hand on the knob.

"I didn't force this arrangement on you, Claire. I didn't force you to come to Boston and I'm not forcing you to stay. You can take your Highlander and leave anytime you wish."

"I never thought otherwise."

"Go or stay, but please do it because it's what you really want to do. Not because of me, or him, or even the baby, but you." Frank put his hat on top of his head and walked out the door leaving Claire alone and shaken at the base of the stairs.

"I really should be goin' before the rain starts poundin'," Jamie said putting the last of his tools back into the box. He stood up straight and watched as Millie sauntered over to the counter and grabbed her purse. "I can come back tomorrow and finish, wilna' take me long."

"I really appreciate the help, James, if I left it to Jerry nothing would get done around here."

"I told ye, it's just Jamie, no James."

"I've always liked the name James," Millie said closing the distance between them. "every James that I've known has been good looking." Jamie's eyebrows raised as she stopped just inches away from him, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. She stuffed the money into the front pocket of his pants making him jump.

"Thank ye kindly, Mistress Nelson, but I really need tae go–" Jamie frowned when Nellie placed a finger on his lips to stop him from talking.

"Nuh-uh," she shook her head. "if you're Jamie, then I'm Nellie."

"Y'er drunk is what ye are," Jamie said as he grabbed her upper arms and led her towards the couch. "sleep it off before Jerry arrives home and sees ye like this."

"Touch me, Jamie," she moaned reaching out for him.

Jamie gently pushed Millie back so she flopped onto the couch before he turned and quickly ran out of the house. He realized he left his toolbox half-way home but decided against turning around to fetch it. Surely Millie would make another move on him and Jamie didn't want to chance it. He quickly ran across the street narrowly avoiding a car as the rain beat down on him. Jamie flung open the door and slammed it shut behind him and he leaned against the wood to catch his breath.

"Frank?" Claire asked walking towards him.

"No, it's me," Jamie said.

"You're soaking wet, stay there." Claire turned and walked to the linen closet, she grabbed some towels and returned to Jamie. "Strip and dry yourself, the last thing we need is for you to catch a cold."

Jamie did as he was told and peeled off his soaking clothes before drying himself with the towel Claire handed him. "Ye'll never guess what just happened, or ye might, actually. But either way, I'm sure ye won't like it."

"Can it wait?" Claire asked placing a hand on her stomach. "I'm not feeling very well."

"Is it the bairn?" Jamie dropped the towel no longer concerned with himself and fully worried about Claire. He put one hand on her back and the other over her own.

"The baby is fine," Claire assured him. "my back is aching something fierce though,"

"More o' those braxton hicks?"

"I think so," Claire nodded. "can you help me to the bedroom?" Jamie wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her up the stairs.

Frank stared at the ceiling above him unable to sleep. Sandy was busy so Frank had no other choice but to go home, as much as he didn't want to. He arrived home with the house completely dark, per usual, and fixed himself a simple sandwich for dinner. There was no plate waiting for him, or any sign of dinner really, not that he expected one after their fight earlier. Claire could be extremely stubborn and Frank was sure it would be a few days before they spoke again.

Not wanting to anger her more Frank prepared the couch and did his best to get comfortable, but to no avail. He tossed and turned for hours before he relinquished the thought of sleep for the night and walked over to his desk. Frank flicked on the lamp and grabbed a paper and pen from the drawer. He sat onto the chair and began to write:

Dear Reverend, I find myself in need of your assistance once more. I hope you will indulge me in undertaking some research regarding an 18th century Highlander family who lived not far from Culloden. You can start by finding Jenny

"Frank?"

He spun around in shock to see Claire leaning against the doorway.

"I was just… doing some work. I couldn't sleep… and thought perhaps I should catch up on some–"

"My water broke,"

Frank jumped from his chair and rushed over to Claire. He glanced up to see Jamie hurrying down the stairs with a suitcase in each hand. "I'll warm up the car."

"Taking their own sweet time about it…" Frank mumbled pacing back and forth in the hospital room.

"Patients always feel like it takes forever to be seen. The truth is a hospital staff is usually running from crisis," She cut herself off with a deep breath followed by a hiss as another contraction seized through her.

"I'm here," Frank and Jamie said at the same time rushing to her side.

"It'll be all right, mo chridhe," Jamie said kissing the side of her head when Claire finally relaxed back into the pillow behind her. "the doctors ken what to do." Claire turned her head so Jamie could place another kiss on the skin of her forehead.

"Glad I missed you with that ashtray, Frank, we couldn't have gotten here otherwise."

"Your aim was spot on," Frank smiled. "it was my cat-like reflexes that saved me."

"Be lucky she dinna have a gun, then ye would o' really been in trouble," Jamie added causing both Frank and Claire to laugh. They all looked up as a doctor walked into the room.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs.," he glanced down at the chart. "Randall. I'm Dr. Thorne, I'll be your attending physician this evening." Dr. Thorne looked up from the chart in his hand and at Jamie. "You are?"

"Family friend," Jamie answered.

"Right…"

"Where's Dr. Bell?" Frank asked.

Dr. Thorne looked at Frank, "He was unavailable. I left a message with his service." he turned to Claire. "Stay calm, do exactly as I tell you, when I tell you to do it, and all will be well. There's no reason to panic."

"I'm not panicking, I just," Claire began but was cut off by the doctor.

"How far apart are her contractions?" The doctor's question was aimed at Frank.

"Don't ye think ye should be asking her?" Jamie glared at the man.

"Jamie," Claire placed a hand on his arm to calm him, "three minutes."

"That's right," Frank nodded.

"First child?" Dr. Thorne again asked Frank.

"No," Claire and Jamie answered as Frank replied with a yes. "I… had a miscarriage a year ago." Claire finished.

"Of course, foolish of me to forget," Frank said staring at Jamie.

"That does complicate things a bit… higher risk factors for both mother and child. Well. I think it's time we got your wife into delivery, Mr. Randall. Give her a kiss and then off you and your friend go to the fathers' waiting room down the hall and to the left. Just follow the smell of cigarettes and flop sweat."

"Ye'll be alright, Sassenach," Jamie gave her a final loving look before joining Frank at the door.

"Just one thing, Claire?" Frank said. "Try not to throw an ashtray at the doctor."

"No promises," Claire grinned before both Jamie and Frank were ushered out of the room.

Jamie sat in the chair and watched Claire, waiting for her to wake up. His position as a family friend gave him access to her room but not the nursery, unfortunately, a privilege Frank had. Jamie had yet to hold their baby, Jamie had only been able to get a glimpse of it as the nurses wheeled it by in a bassinet. Frank was able to follow them but Jamie was instructed to stay in the waiting room. Soon, a nurse had led him into Claire's room.

Jamie played with the ring on his finger and the hem on his shirt. The delivery had been hours ago and even though nurses had assured him that Claire was fine, he began to panic with each minute she remained asleep. Jamie was thankful that everything had gone well, Claire was fine and their baby was alive. He couldn't ask for more.

"My baby…" Claire groaned beginning to wake up. "Where's my baby?"

"Claire!" Jamie rushed to her side and grabbed her hand as a nurse ran in.

"Ah, Mrs. Randall, you're awake–"

"Is it dead? Where is it? Where's my baby?" Claire yelled shaking Jamie's grip off her and ignoring the nurse's attempts to calm her. By some miracle, Frank walked into the room at that exact moment with a bundle in his arms.

"Right here. It's all right, she's right here, here she is," Frank placed the baby into Claire's arms.

"A girl," Jamie said his breath hitching as he looked down at his daughter. Claire pulled back the white blanket revealing her tiny face to her parents.

"She's alive? She's all right?" Claire asked.

"Yes! Yes, a healthy baby girl." Frank told her.

"A girl… a girl… oh, I can't believe it. She's here, she's real," Claire looked up at Jamie with a smile.

"She's perfect, Sassenach,"

"Very much so," Frank agreed.

"She's beautiful," Claire said.

"Just like her mother," Frank whispered.

Jamie reached out and placed a gentle hand on the baby's small head, "Gun dìon Dia thu,"

"What does that mean?" Frank looked at Jamie.

"May God protect her," Jamie responded.

"She'll have more than God to do that," Frank said.

"Aye," Jamie gave Frank a single nod. Claire bent down and kissed the baby's nose as Jamie settled into the bed next to Claire keeping his hand on the baby's forehead. Silently, all the three stared down at the baby beginning to squirm in Claire's arms. She let out a smile cry as a nurse walked into the room.

"What a beautiful little angel," The nurse peered over Frank's shoulder. "so, where'd she get the red hair?" She froze when she noticed Jamie who shifted under her gaze.

"She's perfect, absolutely perfect," Claire said seemingly ignoring everyone else in the room beside her daughter. "welcome to the world Brianna Ellen Fraser Randall."