Vignette 8, Part 1: The Stone of Scone
"Och, Doctor, come on! I want tae listen tae Dougie MacLean! You gave me that tape machine!"
The Doctor evaded him, keeping a hold on the Walkman and headphones. "And I originally owned this tape player and I want to listen to the Goon Show! The fact that we're picking them up means we're passing their time zone."
The TARDIS wheezed.
"Oh! We're landing!" The Doctor took off the headphones and passed the Walkman to Jamie.
Zoe popped out from the library just as the Doctor switched on the viewer screen. The view was that of a city that looked rather nondescript: Georgian-era facades standing alongside 19th century red brick row houses and shops.
"It looks like we've landed on a street corner in the middle of the 20th century. It's hard to pinpoint. It's either the 1940's or the early 1950's.
"Post-war Britain took awhile to catch up with their American cousins in terms of fashion and other visual markers. We'll have to find a calendar or something to get the exact year …"
"But where are we?" Asked Zoe.
"Well, let's go out and see. Oh, but first- Zoe, if we are in the era I think we are in you cannot go out in that jumpsuit." Zoe looked down at her favorite, sparkly suit with a shrug.
"Let me help you find something. Wait there, Jamie."
A few minutes later the Doctor returned from the back of the TARDIS. "Well, I showed her the period appropriate section. I really should re-organize it."
Half an hour later Zoe came out. The Doctor tilted his head.
"Um, Zoe, that might be too formal for walking around."
Zoe tilted her head in confusion and looked down at her dress, smoothing over the deep blue taffeta bodice and skirt. Having spent the majority of her life in a uniform around other people in uniform, she really had no concept of formal and informal wear. "But it's so pretty," she murmured wistfully.
Jamie could not agree more as he struggled to breathe. The cut of the dress emphasized her hourglass figure, nipping in at the waist and belling out. The dress was sleeveless, the collar was high and tied closed at the bottom of her neck, creating a deep, tantalisingly narrow eyelet that stopped just between her breasts. The ensemble was completed with a matching short-sleeved bolero.
Zoe sighed. "Fine. I'll find a different one."
"N-no tha' one's fine …" Jamie managed to choke out, but she was already gone. The Doctor raised a sardonic eyebrow at him.
Jamie shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. "I-it was nice …" he murmured lamely. "Why'd ye have tae …"
Zoe soon reappeared in another dress of a similar cut. It was a powder blue, sleeveless, with a boat collar and had a charming pattern of analog clocks of various sizes dotted all over.
The Doctor chuckled. "How apropos. And also lovely."
"Thank you," Zoe said, pulling on the soft white cardigan that came with it.
With that the trio stepped outside then, on being slapped in the face by a crisp winter bluster, they hurried back inside.
"I think I need a warmer dress."
"Och, dinnae take another half hour this time."
Zoe came out in a wool dress of dove gray, speckled with white. It had a wide neck accented by a small bow on the side and quarter sleeves, belling out into a full skirt; her small feet were encased in kitten heels, the color of which made Jamie smile.
"It's a tartan!"
Zoe grinned. "I thought you'd like that."
Jamie tilted his head. "Though it's nae one I recognize."
The Doctor held out Zoe's coat for her to slip into.
"Och, before I forget, I found this while the Doctor and I were gettin' our coats." Jamie pulled a white, knit tam with a bobble out from behind his back and put it on her head. "Now ye look like a real Scots lassie." Zoe patted the hat and smiled appreciatively up at him.
"Thank you."
"Alright," the Doctor said, "let's try this again." The trio put on their gloves and stepped out.
"Ha! Look, Doctor, where we landed!" Jamie exclaimed after they took a few steps away from the ship. The Doctor and Zoe turned. The TARDIS was situated right next to an actual police box.
The Doctor chuckled. "Let's remember we're the one on the left."
As they walked down the street the Doctor observed the people passing, still trying to pinpoint the period.
"We're in Scotland!"
The Doctor turned to look at Jamie who had stopped to listen to the voices of passersby. "Hm? Oh, yes, you're right."
"Really?" Zoe looked around and scrunched her nose. "It doesn't look like the green hills and rocky crags you've described."
"Och, that's the Highlands, the only part of Scotland worth talkin' aboot." Jamie sighed. "We finally land in Scotland and it's in an ugly city— and a lowland one at tha' judgin' by the accent."
"Question is, when?"
Suddenly there was a cacophony of young men's voices coming up from a narrow close they were passing. They looked down to see that a knot of six teenage boys had cornered an older man.
Jamie frowned. "Weel, tha's nae a fair fight." Before the Doctor or Zoe could say anything the Highlander took off toward the impending conflict.
One of the boys spotted Jamie approaching and his face split into a wide grin.
"'Ey, Rob Roy, ya lost?"
The rest turned. Another boy let out a loud, lilting whistle.
"Neece legs! Both o' you!"
Jamie glanced over his shoulder to see Zoe right behind him.
"Get outta here, Zoe, this is nae place fer a lassie!"
"Jamie, look out!"
Just as he was turning back around one of the boys cuffed him on the jaw. Jamie stumbled back slightly then touched his thumb to his bottom lip, inspecting a spot of blood. A dangerous grin lit up his face.
"So tha's how it's gannae be …"
The boy's eyes widened. Before he could react, Jamie's fist shot out and caught him on the side of the face. The boy spun once then fell to the ground, out cold.
"Alreeght, which o' ye glaikit laddies is next?"
The remaining five boys stared at their supine compatriot then back at Jamie. The young man they had cornered took advantage of their distraction and started throwing punches. One of the boys made for Jamie, pulling something out from behind his back. With a flick of his wrist a small dagger seemed to appear in his hand like magic. Jamie absently wondered about it, but only for a moment as the boy made a lunge for him. Jamie deftly dodged the strike and grabbed the boy's wrist before he could retract his arm, forcing him to drop the knife.
Another boy tried to attack Jamie from behind while he was still occupied with his friend. Zoe ran forward and grabbed the boy's hair from behind. He yelped in surprise and when he turned to react she threw him over her shoulder. The poor Doctor hung back, patting down his coat as he tried to think of what he had on him that could help. One of the gang rushed at him. Just in time he whipped out his sonic screwdriver, sending the boy screaming off, trying to put out the small fire on his corduroy blazer
It was not long before the remaining teenagers went limping off.
"'Back tae yer mithers' skirts, ye shilpit bairns!" Jamie yelled after them. He turned to Zoe and the Doctor. "Are ye alreeght?" Zoe and the Doctor nodded. He looked appreciatively at Zoe. "Ye got a few good ones in, lass, I saw ye." She smiled. Then the trio finally turned to the young man.
"Thank you," the man said.
"Oh, a pleasure," the Doctor said, wiping his brow with his handkerchief.
"Ye hardly did anything," Jamie grumbled wryly.
The young man took out a comb from his back pocket and fixed his hair. "That's the last time I'll try an' take that shortcut." He then put the comb back and extended his hand to Jamie.
"Ian Hamilton."
Ian Hamilton ... Ian Hamilton … The name rang a bell, but the Doctor could not pinpoint its significance …
"James Robert MacCrimmon and this is the Doctor and Zoe Heriot."
"A pleasure tae meet ye all. Let me buy ye a pint as thanks."
"Weel, I'd ne'er turn down a pint … Doctor?"
"I could use a bit of something after all that excitement …"
Jamie patted the Doctor on the back. "Aye, let's go!"
"Is no one going to ask for my opinion?" Zoe asked a tad tartly since it appeared that they had no intention of doing so.
The male trio turned to the lone female.
Jamie nudged her with his elbow. "Och, come on, Zoe," he said in a wheedling tone. "It's jist a wee dram." Zoe was unmoved.
The Doctor, being more diplomatic, cleared his throat and approached Zoe with a gentle, patient smile. "Zoe. Would you mind if we went?"
"No," she said after making a show of consideration. "I don't mind."
Jamie threw his hands in the air. "Weel, if ye were goin' tae say tha' why bother makin' a fuss aboot yer 'opinion'?"
Zoe lifted her chin and gave him a superior look.
"It's the principle of the thing."
Jamie rolled his eyes. "Oh, aye …"
Ian suddenly clapped his hands together, bringing everyone's attention back to him. "Weel, right then, come along! I was on my way to meetin' up with some friends at the pub anyway. It's just aroound the corner."
As Ian then led the way he looked back over his shoulder at Jamie and Zoe.
"Yer girlfriend?" He asked, addressing Jamie.
Jamie blinked at him a moment then said. "Aye."
Zoe's eyes went wide and she glanced sharply at him then at the Doctor who looked equal parts surprised and amused.
Ian smirked. "Aye, I can tell."
Jamie tilted his head with a look of confusion and opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but then the Doctor quickly jogged up to walk beside Ian and peppered him with questions about the University.
Zoe squeezed Jamie's arm and he turned to her, a questioning look still on his face.
"Jamie …" she began in that overly patient voice he dreaded. It meant she was about to explain something that was blindingly obvious to everyone in the world but him. "You don't know what a 'girlfriend' is, do you?" she asked quietly.
"Of course I do," he scoffed lightly.
Zoe's heart skipped in surprise. She just stared at him, momentarily stunned into rare speechlessness.
"It's a girl who's a friend, obviously," Jamie said with a nonchalant shrug, then he added, "though 'tis an odd way of wordin' it ..."
Zoe rolled her eyes and let out a whoosh of air through her pursed lips.
She might have know.
"No, Jamie … A 'girlfriend' is a girl who's your … your ..." Zoe screwed up her face as she paused to search for a term that Jamie would know-"lover" seemed too intense an equivalent. But, then she thought of one:
"Sweetheart."
Jamie immediately stopped in his tracks.
"What?" He whispered harshly. He then stepped forward toward their host. "Ian—"Zoe quickly grabbed his coat sleeve.
"What are you doing?"
"I've go' tae tell him it's nae true."
"Don't be ridiculous! You can't take it back now!"
Jamie blinked hard as the logic of her words sank in. "Oh. Ah … I suppose ye're reeght."
Zoe rolled her eyes and plucked his coat sleeve. "Come on, we're falling behind."
Jamie gently took Zoe's hand from his sleeve then tucked it into the crook of his arm. When she gave him a questioning look he shot her a side-long glance and mischievous smile.
"This is how sweethearts walk."
"Oh. Seems an awkward way to walk."
"'Tis all a matter o' matchin' strides."
For the rest of the walk self-conscious giggles escaped both of them as they watched each other's legs in an effort to stay in-synch.
…
After seeing his new acquaintances ensconced in a cozy nook with a glass of beer, Ian introduced them to the three friends that had been waiting for him at the pub.
"This is Alan Stewart, Gavin Vernon, Kay Matheson, and Billy Petrie- they also attend the University of Glasgow."
"I like your kilt," the lone female of the group, Kay, said to Jamie. "Is that the MacLean tartan?"
Jamie's eyebrows rose and he straightened. "Aye."
"A bheil Gaidhlig agad?"
Jamie's eyes lit up and a delighted smile spread across his face. "Tha!"
At first the sight of Jamie's excitement warmed Zoe but then as he chattered excitedly away with Kay in Gaelic she began to feel left out. That distinctly uncomfortable, melancholy feeling swept over her again—the same one she had felt when Jamie had looked appreciatively at Gia Kelly, or wistfully talked of Victoria. She dropped her gaze to her hands encircling the beer glass. She took a sip and scrunched up her face. She liked the refreshing effervescent sensation on her tongue, but not the bitter aftertaste.
Much like her feelings toward Jamie lately.
Zoe excused herself but no one seemed to notice her going. She ambled over to something in the back of the pub that had caught her eye. It was rectangular and a little over chest height with an arching tube of changing colors rounding it off at the top.
There was a little glass window just below the round tubes. Through the glass she could see small black discs sitting in a row. She watched with interest as a mechanical arm grabbed one of the discs and placed it on a spindle. She finally realized she was looking at a record player—but not like one she had ever seen before in textbooks.
"That is a jukebox," the Doctor's voice came suddenly behind her.
"Oh."
"It plays the music off those tiny records. You can select which ones you want to hear from the chart here, see." The Doctor pointed to a long list of song titles framed on the front of the machine.
"You just—"
"Oh! I see!" Zoe interrupted eagerly, then she turned to the Jukebox. "Jukebox, play 'Forget Me Not'."
"No, no, Zoe," the Doctor chuckled. "It's not like a computer from your time. As I was about to explain, you put a coin in this slot here, and then you press these buttons to enter the code that corresponds to the song you want. You said 'Forget Me Not'? That's D15 ..." The Doctor put in a coin and pressed the buttons. Zoe watched the mechanics come to life with pleasure. "Antique machinery is so fascinating ..."
"Indeed, Zoe."
Soon Eden Kane's voice came flowing out of the cloth speakers that ran along the sides of the box.
"I keep cryin' my heart out, do you love me or do you love me not? If you keep tryin', you'll hear me sighin' forge-e-e-e-t me not …"
Zoe bobbed her head in time to the music. The Doctor dug into his pockets and passed a handful of coins to her. "Well, if you're content here, I'm going to go see what Jamie and our new friends are discussing …"
…
The Doctor felt he had returned to the nook just in time, the discussion was growing heated.
"It's only been five years since the war, ye've go' tae give them time," Billy was saying.
"Time? Time? They've had centuries!" Ian burst out.
Jamie jumped in. "And how many promises have they broken? In 1707–"
"Ach! Ancient history!"
"My-Scottish history!" Jamie countered.
"Our history!" Ian joined, putting a hand on Jamie's shoulder. "The oldest nation in Europe!"
"Aye! The oldest nation in Europe," Jamie echoed.
Billy scoffed. "D'ye honestly think Scotland can look after her own affairs?"
"Surely not if ye're in the vote," Kay said with a smirk.
"All I'm sayin' is give London a chance."
"Here's the chance right here." Ian shook the flyer for the referendum debate. Jamie took it from his hands and looked it over then turned to Kay and asked her about it in Gaelic.
"It's an upcoming vote to be taken in Parliament on Scotland becoming an independent nation again."
The desire to debate suddenly left Jamie as he remembered having a similar argument in his own time. It was disheartening and frustrating to see and hear that over two hundred years later his people were still having the same problems, the same arguments. Anguish tightened his chest. Had it all been in vain then? Jamie grabbed the glass of whiskey Ian had handed him earlier and downed it. The peat reek he used to make behind his croft was better.
"I tell you this, if Scotland's ever goin' to be a nation again—"
A slamming sound on the bar and a loud "Stop!" cut Ian short. A large brawny man turned from the bar to face the group. The pub went dreadfully quiet.
"Shut yer stupid mouths!" The man's voice rang out. "There's nae bludie nation! There's naethin' but wind and rain and mud and crap! Look at tha'! Wha' does tha' say?" The man pointed to a polished metal sign tacked above the bar declaring the pub carried Grieg's Whiskey, made in Markinch, Fife, North Britain.
"North Britain! We're all British now!"
Jamie leapt to his feet and strode over to the man; the Doctor did not have a chance to stop him. Jamie did not touch the man, but his fists were twitching at his sides.
"My brothers didnae die tae be called Britons! Where's yer pride?!"
The older man did not even blink although Jamie's angry face was inches below his. He did frown in confusion a moment, then his brow flattened into stony smoothness.
"Pride in what? Scotland is deid, lad," he said coldly. "She died in her sleep and nae one came tae the funeral."
"Come on, Jamie," Ian called from his seat. "He's nae worth it. I have enough tae buy anither round, but nae tae enough post bail."
Jamie gave the man one last glare then turned back toward the table.
"You Highlanders are always the first to cause trouble."
Jamie whirled around, a murderous look on his face, but then he felt two small hands on his chest. He looked down to see Zoe staring up at him, her face stern but supplicating.
"Jamie, don't."
The Highlander blinked down at her, his eyes wet. Zoe felt an answering ache in her chest to the pain on his face.
"Naethin's changed." Jamie mumbled tremulously and turned away. Zoe stared after him a moment, feeling helpless. How could she comfort him properly? She was sympathetic, but could not relate.
Zoe surveyed the group back at the nook. They clearly could empathize—even the Doctor wore a look on his face that told her even he identified with Jamie's feelings. Zoe ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach and sat back down beside the Doctor, across from Jamie.
Then, just as the pub conversations began to start back up, a clear male voice cut through the noise.
"Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots wham Bruce has often led welcome tae yer gory bed or tae victory …"
It was Ian. He had climbed up on his chair and had begun to sing.
"Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour; See approach proud Edward's power— Chains and slavery!"
Slowly other voices began to join in.
"Wha' will be a traitor knave? Wha' can fill a coward's grave! Wha' sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee!"
By the time Ian had reached the last verse, nearly all the patrons were singing with him, quietly but solidly—even the older man who had pronounced Scotland dead was mouthing the words as he stared into his beer.
"There! Ye see?" Ian said as he sat back down. "Scotland's nae deid. To quote our Lord: 'she's only sleepin'."
A soft chuckle circulated among his friends.
"So she jist needs someone tae roll away the stone and let her out o' the tomb, then?" Gavin chuckled.
"Aye …" Ian trailed off. An odd look suddenly came into his eyes and his gaze drifted off into the middle distance as he became lost in thought.
Zoe looked at the group of Scots and then Jamie. Maybe someday she would ask him more about his home, why the Scottish were the way they were. Though, honestly, she was not really concerned with the Scottish people as a whole.
Just with one.
Kay suddenly piped up, "Dinnae forget the annual dance tomorrow night. John McCormick's going tae be there."
Ian suddenly came back to attention. "How long are ye goin' tae be here?" He asked, addressing Jamie, Zoe and the Doctor.
"Oh, well …" the Doctor shrugged his shoulders.
"If ye're goin' tae be here one more night, we're having our annual dance, as Kay said. I have a few spare tickets, I'd love ye tae join us—give yer English girlfriend a taste of a real Scottish ceilidh."
Zoe straightened and gave her an arch look. "I've danced the eightsome reel before, thank you very much."
The Glagowegians exchanged impressed glances. "Where did ye find her, Jamie?" Gavin asked with a grin! "An English lassie who knows how tae dance the eightsome reel? Dinnae let her go, lad."
A small, gratified smile lifted Zoe's lips. She stole a glance at Jamie and caught him staring back at her. There was a light in his eyes and a look of pride on his face that Zoe found warming.
Jamie quickly looked away and his smile morphed into a grin of self-satisfaction. "Weel, I taught her all she knows."
The warm feelings instantly cooled and Zoe had a sudden, ridiculous urge to give his shins a swift kick under the table but, of course, she resisted.
…
Ian and Kay offered to walk their new friends back to wherever they were staying but the Doctor insisted they would be fine.
"There's no classes tomorrow, it'd be my pleasure to give ye all a tour of Glasgow, if ye like."
"He's an excellent tour guide," Kay said with a grin. "I highly recommend him. I'd join you but I'll be handing out fliers for the dance and the referendum debate all day tomorrow."
Jamie turned a pleading look on the Doctor. Zoe shrugged. To Zoe, the city was interesting enough, though it could not compare to The City in the year 3000.
"Here, I wrote the directions to the hall on the back," Kay said, handing the Doctor a flyer for the dance. "I'll see you all tomorrow night at five."
…..
Ian was a good tour guide. Even Zoe became interested, especially when the tour took them to the University, specifically the University library. Her enthusiasm could hardly be contained.
"Do you still use the Dewey Decimal system and card catalogs?"
"Erm … yes … I suppose … the card catalog is over there …"
Zoe made a beeline for the large chest of tiny drawers he indicated. She opened one and pulled out a card. "I'm going to find a book using the Dewey Decimal system!" She excitedly announced and disappeared into the rows of shelves.
Ian turned a slightly bemused look on the Doctor and Jamie.
The Doctor shrugged and gave Ian an awkward smile. "She really loves libraries."
"Wha's this 'dewey' she's goin' on aboot?" Jamie asked, running a hand along a desk. "Seems pretty dry in here tae me."
Now Ian turned his curious gaze on Jamie. The Doctor rolled his eyes and released a long-suffering sigh. "I really can't take them anywhere," he murmured to himself then he asked Ian some general questions about the library in an effort to distract.
Jamie wandered idly among the tables, glancing over the occasional student's shoulder to see what they were reading; after receiving a few curious glances and glares he returned back to the Doctor and Ian.
"Jamie, I was wonderin', how'd ye meet yer girlfriend? You bein' from Skye and her bein' English … Ye must admit it's a bit of an odd pairin'."
Jamie darted a panicked glance at the Doctor. "Och, weel …" he rocked on his heels then scratched the back of his ear. "It's a bit of a lang story. It'd take a time tae tell …"
"Speaking of Zoe," The Doctor interjected, "maybe you should check on her, Jamie-make sure she hasn't gotten lost in the stacks."
Jamie threw the Doctor a grateful look. "Aye, I should. I'll-I'll tell ye later. A' the ceilidh."
"Ok …"
Jamie strode up and down the rows and rows of shelves. When he could not find her on the first floor, he backed up into the center of the room and looked up at the second floor gallery, but his cursory glance yielded no small brown head. With a sigh he climbed the narrow spiral staircase to the second floor.
Jamie found Zoe in the last row all the way at the back. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a large book open on her lap. Jamie felt a smile tug at his lips at the sight. The old floorboards creaked as he approached. Zoe looked up.
"Oh, Jamie! Have you heard of the fairy flag at castle Dun..ve…"
Jamie perked up. "Dunvegan? Aye. I've seen it."
Zoe's eyes widened with wonder. "Really?"
"Aye." Jamie settled down on the floor next to her, stretching his legs out in front of him and putting his hands in his lap. He leaned over to look at the pages. "What're ye readin'?"
"Skye: A Pictoral Tour of its Legends and Lore."
"Och, good choice!"
Zoe chuckled. "Yes, I thought you'd like that."
Jamie reached over and began to turn the pages. Zoe gave him a slightly sardonic look that he did not notice. But she let it slide as she watched his smile grow.
"Och! There's Bodach an Stoir," he said pointing at the photo of a tall, rock formation that jutted into the sky like a spike. "I've clambered my way up there many a time."
Jamie continued to flip through pages excitedly pointing out other things he recognized. The look on his face was just like the one he wore when he thought he saw Scotland on the viewer screen.
"Here," Zoe said, passing the book into his lap.
"But ye were readin' …"
"It's fine."
"Ok. Thanks!" Jamie went back to perusing. Zoe asked him some more questions that he was more than happy to answer.
"Och! Tha's like my croft," Jamie said when he came across a photo of a croft exhibit, complete with all the trappings of a typical household. Zoe was about to ask him what exactly a croft was when he turned the page and his smile faded.
…...
The Doctor had been thumbing through a book on quantum mechanics and having a good chuckle when Jamie suddenly came up behind him.
"Weel, I'm ready tae go when you are."
Something in his voice that caused the Doctor to take a longer look at the Highlander. "You alright, Jamie?"
"Fine. It's jist gettin' a bit stuffy in here. Where's Ian?"
"Over there."
Jamie went over to the reading table the Doctor indicated. Ian was hunched over a large tome and scribbling notes.
The Doctor turned to Zoe who had followed right behind Jamie.
"Zoe, is something wrong with Jamie?"
Zoe sighed. "We were looking at a book about Skye. He was enjoying it until we got to a picture of an old abandoned house. Nothing left but walls-a result of the 1850 Highland Clearances, so the caption read. Jamie ... is sure it's his."
"Oh … oh, dear."
"I don't know how he knows, they all look alike to me." Zoe sighed heavily. "I thought showing him a book about Skye would be nice … I didn't think …" The Doctor put an arm around her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.
"It's alright, Zoe. You meant well."
"Meaning well" was a cold comfort.
…..
It was a more subdued party that returned to the TARDIS that evening.
"I dinnae mich feel like dancing …" Jamie mumbled.
"Nonsense," countered the Doctor. "Best thing for you. Now go and find your best kilt and jacket."
After Jamie unenthusiastically made for his room the Doctor bent to Zoe.
"And I think that lovely blue taffeta you liked so much would be just the thing for the dance, don't you?"
Zoe's eyes lit up, and so did Jamie's when he stepped out a half hour later to see her wearing it again. He stepped closer, letting his gaze travel over her again, appreciating the cut of the gown on Zoe's figure. Giving into an impulse, he shyly brushed his finger against the cool taffeta skirt, just for a moment. He then pulled his hand back and cleared his throat.
"Ye look real bonny, lass."
Zoe blushed lightly. "Thank you. You, too."
Jamie's eyes sparkled with wry humor. "I look bonny?" The Highlander made a small turn, causing his kilt to bell out slightly. He was wearing highly polished black leather shoes whose laces he had wound around his sturdy calves, which were wrapped in proper black knee hose accented with plaid flashes. At the top of his hose he had put his sgian dubh, a small dagger not often used, preferring just the dirk at his hip. Above the kilt Jamie wore the black shirt she liked so much with the laced collar and sleeves.
"Maybe handsome is a better word."
"I should say so!" Jamie grinned proudly. "While ye stopped in tha' apothecary, the Doctor and I nipped o'er to a kilt shop across the way and got these hose. Now if I only had my sash and bonnet, I'd look really grand."
The mention of the apothecary reminded Zoe that she had not put on the lipstick she had bought there. She had noticed other girls on the street wearing the brilliant shade of vermillion on their lips. It was a color she had never dared try before, normally settling for just a colorless lip balm.
Zoe dug into the clutch she also found in the back and pulled out the compact that came with it. Jamie watched with interest as she carefully applied the lipstick to her small, cupid-bow mouth.
"What do you think?"
"It's …" Beautiful. "... bright."
Zoe frowned. "Oh. Too bright? Should I take it off?" Zoe pulled out a handkerchief and was about to wipe it off when Jamie reached forward and lightly grabbed her hand. Zoe started.
"Nae, nae, it's fine! Keep it. I …" Jamie's voice softened, "I like it."
Zoe stared at Jamie and watched with bemused curiosity as a deep blush creeped up his face.
The Doctor then chose that moment to step out, dressed in what seemed a less shabbier version of his usual clothes. "Oh, Zoe! You look lovely! And the lipstick color is very becoming."
"Thank you, Doctor," Zoe replied distractedly.
…
The trio got on the tram that took them to the University and the hall.
Jamie's smile grew wider and wider as they walked up to the building. He could hear strains of familiar tunes floating through the open door.
Kay and another girl were stationed in the foyer collecting tickets.
"Och! Welcome! Sae glad ye made it! Ian's already inside, I'll join ye in a wee bit. There's finger food and punch, but ye'll have tae add yer own whiskey to tha'." She added with a wink.
"Well, shall we?" The Doctor asked his companions. They both nodded, the one to the other. The Doctor and Jamie offered their arm to Zoe who was standing between them. She smiled and took them both. Over her head the Doctor and Jamie grinned at each other, simultaneously remembering a similar circumstance with another young woman, but this time they succeeded.
They found Ian with a plate in one hand and a glass of punch in the other, talking to a tall, older gentleman.
"Oh, Jamie, Doctor, Zoe, this is John MacCormick. Leader of the Scottish National Party." They greeted each other, made some small talk but soon the TARDIS trio gravitated to the refreshments table.
"Nae applejack this time," Jamie whispered to Zoe. She shushed him.
They retreated to one of the many small tables that lined the perimeter of the room. The Doctor's eyes found Ian, still talking to John McCormick. He put a hand to his head and gave it a scratch.
Ian Hamilton, John McCormick, the Scottish National Party …
"It's on the tip of my tongue …"
The Doctor then noticed McCormick glance around then surreptitiously pass something to Ian who then swiftly pocketed it. Less than a minute later they parted ways and Ian made his way back to the table. As he sat down a man got up on the dais with the band who had been playing quietly in the background.
"Now, for the highlight of the evening! What we all came for! Let's have some dancin'! We'll start off with the eightsome reel!"
Jamie turned to Zoe and extended his hand, his eyes bright with excitement. "Come on, lass, it's our song!"
Zoe laughed and took his hand.
..…
The group returned to their table panting and fanning themselves. Zoe undid the ribbon at her throat and attempted to shrug out of her bolero. The sweat caused the taffeta to stick to her skin. Jamie helped her take it off. He let his gaze roam over her bare shoulders before forcibly jerking his gaze away. Honestly, he'd seen her in less when she wore that ridiculous Dulcian outfit, one would think he'd be immune by now ...
"Now, let's change it up a wee bit," said the master of ceremonies from the bandstand.
The Doctor had sat out the vigorous eightsome but when he heard the next song he perked up.
"Zoe! It's the Lindy Hop! Want to dance it with me? I'll show you how." Zoe was still catching her breath but she couldn't resist the eager look on the Doctor's face.
Ian watched Zoe and the Doctor leave then turned to Jamie. "MacCrimmon, I'd like tae run an idea by you …"
"Eh? Sure …"
"You know the Stone of Scone ...
Jamie tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he rolled the words around in his mind.
"The Stone of Destiny," Ian prompted. "Surely a proud Scot like you would know of it."
Jamie's eyes lit up. "Och, ye mean the An Lia Fàil."
"Yes. The ceremonial Stone our kings have been crowned over since time immemorial, the one stolen by Edward I."
Jamie practically growled. "Aye."
"What d'ye think about helpin' me steal it back?"
…
The Doctor and Zoe breathlessly sipped punch by the refreshment table. Kay sidled up to them after refilling her glass.
"Our Mr. McCormick can surely talk." She leaned toward Zoe. "What d'you suppose our dates to be talkin' aboot so earnestly amongst themselves?"
Zoe's eyes slid over to where Ian and Jamie sat, their heads bent toward each other, looking very serious.
"I haven't the foggiest," Zoe said cooly.
"How did you meet anyway? You and Jamie?"
Zoe took another sip of punch to stall and glanced at the Doctor who, in turn, also sipped his punch and avoided her gaze. She would get no help from that corner.
"Well, um—"
Mercifully, the master of ceremonies took to the microphone again.
"We're goin' to slow things down with an old ballroom favorite, sung by our own Alfie Stewart."
A lanky red-head in a bow tie and sweater-vest took to the stage to scattered applause.
Ian appeared before them with Jamie just behind.
"Are ye dancin'?" He addressed Kay.
Her lips twitched. "Are ye askin'?"
"I am."
"Then I'm dancin'."
"Ye up fer anither dance, Zoe?" Jamie asked, a little shyly. Truthfully, Zoe's feet were beginning to ache a little.
"I'm up for one more, I think."
Jamie led her out to the floor. As in Virginia for the foxtrot he took her hand and laid the other lightly at her waist, while she put one hand on his shoulder.
As they danced, Zoe idly observed the other couples, like Kay and Ian, and immediately noticed they were dancing a lot differently …
"Jamie, I think we're dancing wrong."
"Eh?"
"Look at Kay and Ian and the rest. If we're supposed to be sweethearts we need to dance like them."
Jamie glanced around. People were dancing differently than they had in 1920's Virginia. Zoe suddenly draped her arm around his upper back, resting her chin against his shoulder so her cheek was pressed to his.
"That's more like it," Zoe said matter-of-factly after re-comparing her and Jamie's dance technique with the others.
The taffeta fabric hissed as Jamie's hand slid further around her waist. He closed his eyes.
Aye, much better ...
After a long musical introduction the singer's voice, warm and coaxing came through the mic.
"The very thought of you and I forget to do the little ordinary things that everyone ought to do …"
"Kay was asking about how we met," Zoe murmured. "While we're out here maybe we should work out a story between us."
"Hm?"
"I'm living in a kind of daydream, I'm happy as a king, and foolish though it may seem to me … it's everything …"
"We need to make up a story about how we met. We can't tell Ian and Kay we met on a space station."
"Cannae we?"
Zoe lifted her head and leaned back slightly to scowl impatiently up at him.
"Of course not, Jamie!" She huffed.
Jamie just looked down at her with an easy, playful, grin. He suddenly twirled her out.
"Jamie …"
Jamie chuckled and tugged her back in.
"Cannae we jist dance?" He asked softly.
Zoe slowly put her arm back around his neck. "Well … I suppose …"
"The mere idea of you … the longing here for you … you'll never know how slow the moments go 'til I'm near to you …"
As Jamie's warmth seeped through her gown, Zoe relaxed against his solidity her mind went back to the night after the incident with the Silver Maiden. She couldn't deny she enjoyed being held by him again. She realized in that moment that that was why she had felt lonely when she woke to find him gone. She had missed his touch.
Missed him.
Why that was so she could not say. What made an embrace from Jamie different from a hug or a dance with the Doctor?
"... I see your face in every flower, your eyes in stars above … it's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love …"
"What were you talking so seriously with Ian about?"
She felt him stiffen slightly.
"Oh … Jist Scottish stuff …"
His casual tone sent a little bell off inside Zoe. Jamie was never casual or blasé about Scotland.
She lifted her head from his shoulder to give him a look she hoped conveyed innocent inquiry. "Oh? What sort of 'stuff'?"
Jamie shrugged. "Naethin' ye'd be interested in."
Try me.
Was what Zoe wanted to say but she knew that the more she pried, the more he would clam up.
For the remainder of the dance something about the Highlander's body language changed. Even though he held her, he felt distant. That sent even more alarm bells off in Zoe's head.
Once the song was over and Jamie escorted her back to her seat at the table Zoe tried to catch the Doctor's eye from across the room. He was talking to an attractive older woman with whom he had shared the last dance. He was not looking up. Zoe silently huffed in frustration.
"So, Jamie," Ian suddenly asked. "Ever take part in any Highland games?"
"What are the Highland Games?" Interrupted Zoe.
"Ye've never heird of the Highland games?" Kay gave her an incredulous look that Ian mirrored.
Zoe's stomach dropped in dismay and a bit of panic.
Jamie elbowed her. "Och, ye know, dearie, tha' traditional Scottish festival where men show off feats of strength … I keep tryin' tae get ye tae go …"
Zoe blinked. "Oh. Oh! … Yes. I-I've been meaning to go …"
A passing couple greeted Ian and Kay. Jamie took the opportunity to lean over and whisper in Zoe's ear, "ye're gannae have tae be quicker than tha', lass." He tapped his head to emphasize his point.
Zoe turned and glowered at him.
"You James MacCrimmon, are lecturing me about being quick? Ha! I can calculate the trigonometric parallax of a supernova in the time it takes you to tie your shoes—which, I may add, is a rather long time."
Jamie sighed and gave her a look of exaggerated patience. "There's two types of canny, Zoe … heid canny," he touched a finger to her temple, "an' book canny," he mimed an open book with his palms. "Ye got tae mich o' this," he flapped his palms open and closed. "And no' enough this." He put his finger to her temple again.
Zoe grumpily jerked her head away. "Nonsense."
"Uh-oh, are we havin' a wee lovers' tiff?" Ian chuckled, watching them with amusement.
Zoe turned to him, startled. "What?"
Jamie put his elbow on the table and, resting his head against his fist, he gazed at Zoe; his brows furrowed in mock concern and a grin teased the corners of his lips.
"Are we, Zoe?"
There was a light in his hazel eyes that caused an odd flutter in her stomach.
"Have ye ever done the stone lifting, Jamie?" Kay suddenly asked before Zoe could formulate a reply.
The Highlander blinked and turned his attention to Kay. "Uh—Aye. When I was fourteen I lifted the Clach-ultaich Iain Ghairbh MhicGilleChaluim Ratharsair."
"Ah, the Lifting Stone of Iain Ghairbh in Skye."
"Aye, the same."
Zoe rose abruptly from her seat. "I'm going to get more punch." Jamie made to join her but she put a hand on his shoulder. "No, no. You stay here and talk, I'm going to see what the Doctor's up to."
The Doctor was still chatting with the attractive older woman near the refreshment table.
"Oh, Zoe, I'd like you to meet Claire McDermont," he said, indicating the woman at his side. "She's the assistant head librarian at the college."
"I—oh! How do you do? Zoe Heriot." Zoe gladly shook the woman's proffered hand, a dozen eager questions coming to her lips. But she forced herself back to the task at hand. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Ms. McDermont?"
Zoe steered the Doctor to a quieter corner of the room.
"Is something wrong?"
Zoe crossed her arms. "I'll say! Something is up with Jamie and that Ian fellow."
"Hm? How do you mean?"
She tried to articulate Jamie's behavior, that he was being evasive and that Ian had an odd, conspiratorial look about him.
"When I left the table they were talking about 'lifting stones' or some such …"
The Doctor suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder with one hand and smacked his forehead with the other.
"Oh! What an idiot I've been! Of course! That's where I've heard those names …"
"Doctor?"
"Ian Hamilton, Kay Matheson, Gavin Stewart … Christmas Eve, 1950 … they steal the Stone of Destiny from Westminster Abbey!"
"What?"
"Zoe?"
Zoe whirled around to find Jamie behind her. Had he heard what they said?
"Did I go tae far back there? I'm sorry." His eyes were full of worry and he was nervously scrubbing the back of his neck.
Zoe blinked up at him, bewildered. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Weel, ye left sae abruptly, I thought I'd done somethin' wrong—"
Zoe firmly shook her head. "No, Jamie, you didn't."
The fiddlers on the stage suddenly struck a chord.
"Alreeght, last song of nicht, friends! A salute to our National bard—take it away, Alfie."
"One last dance?" Jamie asked, a little shyly.
Zoe winced. "Actually, Jamie, my feet are hurting and I'm pretty tired, I'm going to sit this one out, if you don't mind." She began to walk away, but Jamie followed up behind her.
"Oh. Weel, I'll sit wi' ye then."
Zoe looked quickly at him and protested. "No, no, there's plenty of girls here, you should dance with one of them."
"Nae, nae. I'm fine settin' this one out." Jamie steered her back to her seat, which was turned to face the stage. "I'm fair puckled, too." Once there he sat down next to her, arms crossed, looking quite determined not to budge an inch.
"Jamie—"
"Wheesht! The song's startin'!"
Zoe sighed and turned her attention to the stage.
"There's nought but care on ev'ry han', in ev'ry hour that passes, O: What signifies the life o' man, An' 'twere na for the lasses, O …"
Jamie suddenly, excitedly tapped Zoe's hand, which had been resting on the table between them. "I know this one! It's on tha' tape ye gave me."
Zoe couldn't help but grin at his boyish delight. "Is it?"
"Aye."
"Green grow the rashes, O; green grow the rashes, O, the sweetest hours that e'er I spend, are spent amang the lassies, O …"
Jamie began to softly hum then sing along under his breath.
"The war'ly race may riches chase, an' riches still may fly them, O; an' tho' at last they catch them fast, their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O."
Zoe's eyes moved away from the stage to Jamie. She thought of the lullaby he sang to her once; a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she listened to him and reminisced.
Once Jamie noticed Zoe watching him he flushed and ducked his head apologetically. "Sorry. I didnae realize …"
Zoe touched his hand briefly in shy reassurance, "I like your voice better."
Jamie blinked at her a moment, taken aback, then he grinned, clearly flattered. "Och, get away wi' ye …"
"I'm glad tae see ye twa' hae made up," came Kay's voice from behind them.
Jamie and Zoe flinched in surprise. Jamie twisted in his chair to look at the couple, then back at Zoe, a look of understanding dawning on his face. He then nodded.
"Oh. Oh. Aye … Our wee brangles dinnae last long, do they …" Jamie gave Zoe a wink, "... petal?"
Zoe blinked, taken off guard for only a split second, but then she caught on. "No … darling." Her lips twitched. She didn't know what "brangles" meant, but she could hazard a guess. She bit her lip to stifle a giddy giggle that was bubbling up.
"But gie me a cannie hour at e'en, my arms about my dearie, O; an' war'ly cares, an' war'ly men, may a' gae tapsalteerie, O …
"Green grow the rashes, O; green grow the rashes, O, the sweetest hours that e'er I spend, are spent amang the lassies, O …"
….
"Where are you all stayin'?" Kay asked as they walked back to their cars. "Can we give you a ride? The tram has stopped running at this hour."
"It's not far from here," the Doctor said quickly. "We're fine walking."
"But didn't you come by tram?" Ian asked, his brow furrowing.
"Well, we wanted to save our feet for dancing."
"All the more reason to accept a ride, you three almost danced every dance, you must be dead on your feet."
"We're staying at the Argyll Inn," Zoe suddenly cut in. Jamie and the Doctor looked at her in surprise.
"Oh … that's only five blocks away ... Let me still give you a ride." Ian insisted.
The trio relented. Any more protests would seem suspicious.
Once they continued to walk towards the cars parked along the street Jamie moved around Zoe so he was between her and the road. He then looped his arm through hers.
"Tha' was quick thinking," Jamie said, giving her an appreciative grin. "Where did the name 'Argyll Inn' come from? Is it a real place?"
"Yes. We passed it on the tram."
"Oh. I dinnae notice it."
Zoe flashed a smug smile. "Of course not."
"Aaand here's the car!" Ian announced stopping before a 1948 Ford Anglia.
The Doctor, Jamie and Zoe piled into the back, Zoe in the middle. Both Jamie and the Doctor, being the gentleman they were, draped one arm along the back of the seat behind Zoe, to give her as much room as possible.
Zoe sighed in faint relief to have her throbbing feet off the ground.
The inn was only half a mile away and they were out of the car again about five minutes later.
They said their goodbyes but then, as the Doctor and Zoe approached, Jamie hung back.
"I've just got tae ask Ian somethin'—I'll be right in."
The Doctor and Zoe exchanged quick dubious glances then stepped inside the inn.
The Doctor and Zoe found themselves in a Victorian styled lobby carpeted in green and red plaid, including the stairs. The walls were papered in an "interesting" blue-green damask pattern that most certainly clashed with the carpet. Zoe eyed the aesthetic choices with distaste before turning to look back at the Doctor who was staring out of a large window that faced the street. She joined him at the window, sitting down in a well-cushioned chair set off to the side. From that vantage she could see that Jamie had got back in the backseat of the car. Kay and Ian were fully turned around their seats, talking animatedly with him. For a moment Zoe wondered-feared, that they would drive off with Jamie.
She eyed the Doctor's furrowed brow and the way he worried his bottom lip with his teeth.
"You don't think he'd join them, do you? She asked.
The Doctor put his hands on his hips and sighed. "I don't know … remember what I said as we were leaving Virginia?"
"Yes ..." Zoe said slowly. "But he didn't try to leave."
"That's because I didn't tell him about what would happen."
"Even if you had, you can't assume he would have chosen them over us." Zoe put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and gave him a bright, encouraging smile. "You're worrying needlessly."
The Doctor gave her a hopeful look.
"You think so?"
Zoe nodded. The Doctor brightened and rubbed his hands together. "Yes … Yes, I'm sure you are right, Zoe. As you usually are."
Zoe gave him an impish grin. "'Usually'? I'm always right."
"Look, are ye goin' tae get a room or no'? The front parlor is no' jist a place for you tae sit."
The pair both looked to see the landlord of the inn, a gangly man with thinning brown hair and a sad mustache, glaring at them from behind the check-in counter.
"Ah, yes. Well, we're just waiting for our friend to come in," the Doctor said.
"Well, tell yer friend tae hurry it up. He or she can smoke in the parlor if tha's wha' they're worried aboot, jist no' in the room. I had a bloody de'il o' a time cleanin' up from the last mattress fire."
"Brian?" A shrill voice came floating down the stairs, followed by a curler-covered head poking out from behind the wall shielding the landing.
The landlord flinched. "Yes, dearest, comin'."
"Let me see what's keeping him," the Doctor hastily offered and walked out the front door; he shortly returned with Jamie.
"Well, I guess it's time to walk back to the TARDIS," the Doctor said.
Zoe reluctantly stood. It had felt so good to be off her feet. But, that rest also made the stabbing pain that much worse when she had to put weight on them again. She hissed and winced.
Jamie and the Doctor were immediately at her side.
"Doctor," Zoe whined, "do we really have to walk to the TARDIS tonight? Can't we stay here for the night?"
"I suppose so, my dear. Forgive me, I had forgotten how your feet must be hurting."
The Doctor didn't have enough money for three separate rooms, so he and Jamie would be sharing.
"Oh, I know it's late, but … could we get a bowl of warm water for my friend here to soak her feet?" The landlord reluctantly turned around not even trying to hide his annoyance. He even made a mock bow.
"Of course, sir, it wasn't like I was goin' tae bed or anythin'."
…..
Zoe sat on the edge of the bed. Not wanting it to wrinkle, she had taken off the dress and laid it carefully out on the small chair set in one corner of the modest-sized room. She was now sitting in just the satin slip that belled out into a tiered crinoline.
Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door. Normally she would have gotten up and answered it, but tonight? Not another step.
"Come in," she called.
Instead of the landlady, the landlord-or even the Doctor- Jamie walked in.
In one hand he held a porcelain pitcher of water and in the other a bowl; a yellow hand towel was draped on his shoulder. Jamie gave a sheepish shrug when he saw Zoe's bemused look.
"The landlord came into our room with it and left," he offered by way of explanation.
"Oh."
"Where did ye get tha' other dress?" He then asked with a curious frown.
Zoe self-consciously touched the satin slip. "Oh. It came with it, under the dress."
Jamie blushed and nearly fumbled the bowl. "Ye're in yer shift?!" He screwed his eyes shut but then opened them again in the next moments. "Och, what's the use? I've already seen ye. And I've seen ye in worse."
"Are you referring to the clothes I got from the Dulcians?" Zoe asked archly.
"Look, I didnae come here tae argue wi' ye, Zoe. Here, come off tha' bed an' sit in the chair. Yer wee legs willnae reach the bowl seittin' there."
"There's nothing wrong with my legs, the bed is too tall."
The color in Jamie's cheeks grew deeper as he glanced at the limbs in question. "I dinnae say there was anythin' wrong with them …" he muttered. He then cleared his throat and grabbed the taffeta gown from the chair, tossing it onto the bed.
"Jamie! Be careful! You'll wrinkle it!"
Jamie gave the dress a careless glance and muttered an apology. It didn't hold much interest for him without Zoe in it.
Zoe carefully slid off the edge of the bed, wincing and hissing as she placed her full weight on her still tender feet. Jamie automatically took her hand.
"I can do it myself," Zoe protested, but did not bother to tug her hand out of his grip as he led her to the chair. Once settled, Jamie crouched down before her. He put his large hand behind her heels, lifted her feet and slid the bowl underneath them. Her feet appeared even more red against the white porcelain of the bowl.
Jamie took the pitcher and slowly poured the water in. Zoe let out a soft sigh as the warm water enveloped her feet, bringing immediate relief.
Jamie smiled up at her. "Tha' feels a whole lot better, eh?"
Zoe nodded, her eyes still closed. "It's just what I needed. Thank you, Jamie."
"Dinnae thank me, thank the Doctor, he asked fer it."
"I will."
Jamie looked at her for a moment and then seemed to decide something. He put his hands in the water and gently took hold of her feet.
Zoe's eyes flew open. She flinched in surprise, but also because she was, apparently, ticklish. She gripped the chair arms to keep from giggling and attempted to ask what he was doing.
"Jist workin' yer feet a bit. I thought it might help."
Zoe rested her elbow on the chair arm and pressed her lips against her fist to suppress both a giggle and a sigh at the embarrassingly wonderful sensations Jamie's hands were producing. A laugh finally escaped though when his fingers began work between her toes.
"Stop! I'm ticklish!" She gasped, trying to tug her foot from his grip. A devious smile crossed Jamie's face.
"Are ye now?"
"No-don't! Jamie! I really will splash you! Don't you dare!"
And in the next moment she did.
Jamie laughed and let go over her feet to wipe the water from his eyes. "Alreeght, alreeght." He picked up the yellow hand towel and, after mopping his face, tossed it to her.
Zoe pulled one foot out and bent over to dry it. As she did so she suddenly felt the small warm pressure of a kiss planted on top of her head.
"Good night, Zoe," she heard Jamie say. Before she could respond he left the room.
Zoe blinked at the abruptness. She touched her head then looked down at her left foot still in the water. She wiggled her toes. In her adult life no one besides herself had ever touched her feet-much less massaged them. She felt her cheeks heat. She was grateful and embarrassed all at the same time.
She smiled, a little self-consciously. "What's gotten into him?" She murmured.
…..
Upon opening her eyes Zoe stretched and then winced. Oh, my, was she sore—maybe just as sore as she had been after the barn dance in Virginia, although the only pain she could remember from that was the one induced by alcohol.
Zoe swung her legs out over the edge of her bed, rotated her ankles and flexed her feet. She looked over at the bowl of water near the chair and smiled softly. She should go thank Jamie again. And the Doctor.
Zoe quickly slipped back into the night-blue taffeta gown and bolero and stepped into the corridor. She hesitated before the door of Jamie and the Doctor's shared room. There had been no clock in hers so she was not sure of the time. Jamie was an early riser but the Doctor liked his sleep.
The view out her window was too overcast to see the position of the sun, but it was bright enough for her to estimate the time to be well after dawn.
As she deliberated the door opened.
"Oh, good morning, Zoe," The Doctor said, looking a bit startled and a little distracted.
"Is something wrong?" Zoe asked. On looking past him at the empty room a faint sense of alarm flashed through her. "Where's Jamie?"
"Oh, he's already downstairs in the breakfast nook."
Zoe visibly relaxed and her lips lifted in a small, wry grin. "I might've known."
When the Doctor and Zoe arrived at the table, Jamie had already demolished his black pudding and eggs; now he was working on the toast and poking the tomato with his fork, like it was some sort of alien fruit.
"What's the matter?" Zoe asked as she sat down. "It's a tomato."
"Tom … tomato? Ach, those are poisonous!" Jamie pushed it even further away from the other food on his plate, eyeing it fearfully.
"Oh, Jamie …"
"Dinnae 'oh, Jamie' me! Alexander tol' me of a man whose cousin died after eatin' one!"
The Doctor leaned toward Zoe. "Much of Britain and the Americas considered the tomato poisonous until a little after Jamie's time. It was more likely the lead pewter leaching from the plate into the tomato-not the tomato itself."
"Eh?"
"Nothing, Jamie, I'll eat it."
Zoe suddenly noticed that Jamie looked a bit worse for wear. There were bags under his eyes and his hair looked as if he'd been running his fingers through it all night.
"Jamie, you don't look so good, did you not sleep well?"
Jamie's eyes widened and he dramatically put a hand to his throat and made a choking noise. "Och, did the devil fruit get into my food after all?!"
The Doctor rolled his eyes as he cut into the tomato. "Oh, stop it, Jamie! It's not poisonous!"
….
The Doctor had used the last of his money on the inn and therefore had none left for transportation back. The walk back to the TARDIS was a longer one than they had anticipated. Zoe was glad they had stopped at the inn the night before-she was sure she would not have made it otherwise.
Zoe walked beside the Doctor and Jamie brought up the rear, guarding their backs. The Doctor kept looking back over his shoulder at Jamie, as if to make sure he was still there.
Zoe suddenly tucked her hand in the crook of the Doctor's arm, drawing his attention.
"I told you," she said quietly.
"Hm? Told me what?"
Zoe gave the older man a small grin, with just a hint of cheek. "I told you he wouldn't leave us."
The Doctor blinked at her for a moment then broke into a smile of his own. He patted the small hand on his arm. "Yes, you were right as usual, my dear."
The girl scientist turned to look ahead and so did not see the shadow that fell over the Doctor's face.
….
Once back inside the TARDIS the Doctor declared stretching his arms out wide as if giving the TARDIS a hug:
"It's good to be back, as always!"
Zoe "hmm'd" her agreement from the Jacobean chair she collapsed in.
"I dinnae know about ye, but I could go fer a cup of tea— I'm muckle drouthie!"
The Doctor glanced up from the control panel. "Excellent idea, Jamie! Tell us when it's ready."
"Me?"
"Well, why not?"
Jamie glanced at Zoe with the intention of volunteering her but she was leaning back in the chair with her eyes closed.
"Och, fine."
After Jamie filled and switched on the electric kettle he turned and leaned against the kitchenette counter.
The Doctor wandered in. Jamie stiffened as he held up two torn pieces of what was once one piece of stationery paper.
"Dear Doctor, by the time you read this letter I'll be on a train bound for London with Ian. Please know this is not a decision I make lightly. After our humiliation at Culloden and then knowing what is to come, seeing what Scotland has become, I feel I have to do this. I will not ask you to wait for me. Take care of Zoe. Your Obedient Servant, James R. MacCrimmon."
Jamie's shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes against his own words.
"What happened, Jamie?" The Doctor asked gently. "Where exactly did you go?"
Jamie opened his eyes but kept them lowered and scrubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, got directions tae the Glasgow station. I was tae meet wi' Ian at five in the mornin'. I went aboot a block before I stopped and turned aroond … As mich as I love Scotland … ye're my people, too …" Jamie's voice trailed off as his throat tightened. He swallowed hard. "I'm sae sorry."
The Doctor put a hand on the Highlander's shoulder. "I wouldn't have left without you, Jamie," he said in a low, reassuring voice.
Jamie covered his face with his hands. "Ye should have."
"No, no …" the Doctor wrapped his arms around the young man and patted him soothingly on the back. "What's important is you came back. It may make you feel any better to know that they were successful."
Jamie looked up over his hands at the Doctor.
"Really?"
"Is the tea ready yet?"
As Zoe stepped into the kitchenette the Doctor attempted to hastily shove the note pieces back into his shabby coat pocket.
Zoe had changed out of her dress into a dark green, open work lace sweater with a boat neck collar and high-waisted, wide-leg tweed trousers; on her feet were a pair of rattan mules with low, wooden heels.
Jamie wondered where on the TARDIS she found these clothes.
"I-uh- almost." He said instead as he swirled a little of the boiled water into the brown teapot to heat it up. He then packed the leaves into a tea ball and, after placing it in the pot, poured the rest of the hot water in and left it to steep.
"Nothing like bracing cup of Yorkshire Gold, eh, Zoe?" The Doctor said.
"Nothing like it ..." Zoe answered but eyed them warily. She sensed they were acting slightly cagey. "Were you two talking about me behind my back?" She teased lightly.
"Nae, of course no'. Tha' would be rude." A wicked smile lifted the corners of Jamie's lips. "I'd complain aboot ye tae yer front."
Zoe shot him a mild glare. "I know. And you do."
"Now, now …" the Doctor began.
"Och, Zoe knows it's only a wee bit o' fun. Don't ye, lass?" He was still smiling but there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
"Of course," Zoe smiled warmly back.
Jamie's heart pounded painfully—but it was a pleasant pain. He dragged his eyes away from her to look down at his wristwatch. "Tea's ready."
He put the pot on the table then busied himself with removing the tea ball, dripping hot tea as he took it to the sink.
"Jamie! Take the tea ball out by the sink and then put the pot on the table."
"Och, I know, stop yer fussin', woman."
Zoe scoffed and, with a long-suffering sigh, turned to grab the biscuits while the Doctor fetched the milk and tea cups. It was then that her attention was arrested by two pieces of torn paper on the floor.
The Doctor and Jamie settled at the table. The older man surveyed the younger with a critical eye. "Jamie, the proper way is to pour your tea first and then add the milk."
"I beg tae differ. Ye know, Bonnie Prince Charlie pours his milk first, then the tea."
The Doctor heaved a long-suffering sigh. "At least you don't drink it out of your saucer."
Jamie screwed his face up with scorn. "Ach, tha's the Irish."
The Doctor looked to Zoe who was still standing by the counter with her back to them.
"Zoe, what do you think? Tea first or milk first?"
The young woman did not move, appearing not to hear him.
"Zoe?"
"Hm?" Zoe whirled around, biscuit tin in hand.
"Tea or milk?"
"Both, please."
"No … oh, nevermind."
Zoe slowly sat down, mechanically spooning out the sugar into her cup, then milk, then tea.
"Ha! See! Zoe puts her milk in first!" Jamie said triumphantly.
"Technically, she put her sugar in first …" the Doctor pouted.
As Jamie sipped his tea he glanced up at Zoe sitting across from him. She was staring back. Her face was a frigid mask, but her eyes were burning. Jamie had never seen her look so angry. He took an involuntary gulp of the hot tea.
Zoe suddenly put down her cup, pushed out her chair and left the room.
The Doctor called after her in concern but did not receive a response. He exchanged a befuddled glance with Jamie. Then his hands suddenly flew to his coat pocket. The note was not there. In his haste he had missed his pocket ...
…...
She had to get away, had to think.
Zoe had felt anger, sadness and hurt before, but this was on a whole new level.
His attentiveness last night made sense now.
He had been saying goodbye.
She had been wrong.
The realization fell like a blow.
She clearly did not know Jamie as well as she thought.
Zoe felt a stinging in her eyes. She blinked hard.
Jamie, on the other hand, hardly knew those people! Just because they were also Scottish and he felt the need to get his own back through some foolish gesture of defiance … That was worth the risk of parting company with them forever?
The memory of the Highlander's expression when he saw the photograph of the abandoned croft rose to the forefront of her mind. Against her will she felt empathy soften the sharp edges of her anger. She tried to rouse it again in vain:
Jamie was always going on about protecting them, so how could he even consider leaving?
He may have considered it … but he didn't do it.
Zoe fished the torn note out of her trouser pocket and studied it again.
There was movement behind her and she knew Jamie had entered her room. She turned.
Zoe stared at him for a long moment then opened her fisted hands, letting the torn note pieces flutter to the floor.
Jamie watched the paper fall then looked up to see Zoe swiftly coming toward him. He watched her approach with growing trepidation, resisting the urge to back up. For such a wee thing she could be quite intimidating when she had half a mind to be.
"N-now, Zoe, ye have every reeght tae be angry …" He held up his hand as if to ward her off, but then lowered it along with his gaze. " ... I … I wouldnae blame ye if ye never spake tae me again …"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" Zoe snapped, throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug.
Jamie nearly squeaked in surprise.
Angry words of disappointment and hurt had been ready on Zoe's lips when he had first entered the room, but the moment she turned and saw his absolutely abject expression her heart had completely melted and all words were forgotten.
"I may be angry," Zoe murmured into his shoulder, "but I'm more glad you came back."
Jamie blinked as her words sank in. His arms slowly wound around her in her return.
Och, Zoe …
Jamie wondered if he had temporarily taken leave of his senses last night. How in the world could he have ever conceived of leaving these two?
Jamie released his grip and gently unwound her arms from around his neck, but did not let go of her hands when he brought them back to center. He then dipped his head to pin her with a warm, earnest look.
Zoe looked down and away, feeling suddenly self-conscious. A fond smile played at the corners of Jamie's lips as he watched a blush creep up her cheeks.
"The Phantom Piper himself will have tae take me first before I leave the Doctor and ye again," he said softly.
Zoe looked quickly back up at that and flashed him a shy, wry grin. "Well, hopefully it won't ever come to that …"
"So is everything—oh, am I interrupting something?"
Zoe and Jamie jumped apart.
The Doctor, who had been waiting with growing concern back in the kitchenette, had gone looking for them.
"No, you're not interrupting anything," Zoe said brightly. "Let's finish our tea!" Buoyed by the resolution of feelings and friendship restored, Zoe practically skipped from the room.
The Doctor felt the Highlander's glare before he saw it.
If there was ever a time Jamie had wanted to throttle someone … though, perhaps it was for the best that the Doctor had come in when he did …
The older man gave the younger man a pointed look that bordered on suspicion and repeated his question.
"Did I interrupt something?"
Jamie sighed wearily and ran his hands down his red face.
"Nae. Nothin'."
The Doctor gave him one more wary glance before moving to leave the room.
The Highlander did not have much opportunity to think further on the thorny subject of … whatever almost happened, because in the next moment, as he and the Doctor were making their way back to the kitchenette, the TARDIS' landing noise unexpectedly echoed through the ship.
…..