A/N: Okay, this beast has taken on a whole new direction from the one-shot it started off as. I will keep writing on this as long as my muse inspires me. I am open to suggestions and ideas. I am following the series but I have read the first two books (and intend to plow through the rest) so I may work in some ideas from those. I will try to work chronologically but I am following my muse so we will have to see where she takes me. Over time I may reorder the chapters as I can and I will probably rename the work once I come up with something more fitting.

This chapter takes us back to the very beginning. Series written by Ronald D. Moore (S1E1), Toni Graphia (S2E13), original story by Diana Gabaldon (their words in italics).

….oOo….

"It's just nigh on Samhain," Mrs. Baird told the young couple with a twinkle in her eye, "You're both welcome at the festival, of course. Mind you," she teased, "ghosts are freed on the feast days. They'll be wandering about, free to do good or ill as they please."

"Of course," said Claire with a smile, "what would Halloween, Samhain, be without a good ghost story?"

….oOo….

It had been two hundred years. Exactly the two hundred years he had said he would wait.

"I'll find you. I promise," he swore to her that fateful day in 1746 at Craig Na Dun, before sending her back through the stones, back to Frank, "If I have to endure two hundred years of purgatory... two hundred years without you, then that is my punishment that I have earned for my crimes."

Now, with the feast of Samhain approaching he was able to return, even if it was only as a ghost. Would anyone be able to see him? Would she see him or sense he was there? She would not yet know him at this time - Samhain, 1946, just before she came to him. But their souls were so intertwined that surely she must feel something, shouldn't she? It didn't matter though, at least he would get to see her.

He walked the streets of Inverness but no one seemed to notice him. He knew she was supposed to be here but he didn't know where she was to be found. He wandered through the town looking at everyone, man or woman, in an attempt to find her.

Claire, he would know by the way that she walked or the tilt of her head or the swing of her arms if he could not see her face. His mind could recollect everything about her – every detail, every feature, every movement. He closed his eyes and sighed at the thought.

Frank he knew as well. Claire had told him that her first husband was the spitting image of Captain Jack Randall and that was a man Jamie Fraser, try as he might, would never forget. The irony was not lost on him, that the man he had entrusted with the care of his two most precious possessions bore the face of his most loathsome enemy. It was a bitter pill.

He had determined that his own appearance was that of himself at an age corresponding to Claire's age at this time. He was wearing his traditional highlander attire which would have made him look and feel quite out of place here in the twentieth century if he had not already discovered that no one could see him. No one could touch him either. People walking toward him would not step aside, they just strode right through him. Conveniently, this, the ultimate in anonymity, allowed him to observe his surroundings without being seen himself.

There were many curious things in the twentieth century. Motorcars for one, Claire had told him about them of course, but he never imagined how fearsome they could be. The first one he saw came speeding down the road toward him. Forgetting he was merely a phantasm, he jumped out of the way lest he get struck by it.

Then there were the airplanes she had described. At least he assumed that's what those things were that made a loud noise and flew across the sky without any flapping of wings.

He spent hours searching through Inverness to no avail until finally he saw it: the storefront with the blue and white porcelain vases on display. 'Farrell's General Store' was the name of the establishment. She had told him about that display and her thoughts about owning a vase.

"Strange, the things you remember," she had said, "Single images and feelings that stay with you down through the years. Like the moment I realized I'd never owned a vase. I can still recall every detail of the day when I saw the life I wanted sitting in a window."

This was it then. She would pass by this shop today and look at the vases in the window. Jamie went into the store and stood behind the thin gauze curtain that separated the window display from the rest of the shop. He would stand there all day if necessary and wait for her to walk by.

While keeping watch there, as the hours passed, he would occasionally glance around the shop. Being a general store it sold all manner of things from food and clothes to tools and books. Every once in a while a patron would walk right through him while browsing the shop's wares, reminding him of his current lack of tangibility.

Late in the morning an older woman with a young boy came into the store. Jamie could hear her talking to the wife of the proprietor behind the counter as he watched out the window for Claire.

"Good morning Mrs. Farrell," said the woman.

"Good morning to ye too, Mrs. Graham," was the reply, "And how is young Master Wakefield today?" the proprietress said, leaning over the counter to address the child who could not have been much older than five years.

"I am very well, thank ye, Mrs. Farrell," was the boy's clear and deliberate reply.

"Och, such the young gentleman," said Mrs. Farrell. Turning back to the older lady she asked, "What can I do for ye today, Mrs. Graham?"

"I need to get some Oolong tea," she answered.

"Oh do ye, now," said Mrs. Farrell with a knowing grin.

"Aye," replied Mrs. Graham, smiling, "I need it for the readings, you ken."

At that moment Jamie was distracted by the sudden appearance of a strange two wheeled contraption that sped down the street just outside the window. A lad was balanced atop it in a similar fashion to riding a horse. The up and down motion of his legs seemed to provide the propulsion. 'Oh!' thought he with a smile, 'This must be the thing Claire called a bicycle!'

His attention was called back inside the store when he heard Mrs. Graham ask Mrs. Farrell, "Will you be at Craig Na Dun Thursday morning for the ritual? It is Samhain, don't forget."

"Och, aye, I'll be there," was the reply. Jamie realized that they must be speaking of the druid ritual Claire witnessed the morning before she went through the stones.

Mrs. Farrell excused herself to get the tea. The lady bent down to speak to the boy, "You wait right here while I go fetch the sugar to make the biscuits."

The lad nodded enthusiastically in reply. While his guardian was gone the extremely well behaved laddie looked around the shop, eyeing all the new items on display. When his eyes fell upon Jamie they stopped. The boy cocked his head and stared at the tall red headed Scotsman.

Instinctively, Jamie smiled at the boy. A broad smile broke across the lad's face in return. Then Jamie remembered that he was supposed to be invisible. He glanced around quickly to see if there was someone else the boy might be grinning at. There was no one. How was it that this boy saw him when no one else did?

By this time the two ladies had returned and Mrs. Graham paid for her purchases. Turning to leave she said to the boy, "Come Roger, it is time to go."

Roger, who had been staring at the highlander the whole time, lifted a hand and waved goodbye. Still in shock at the boy's acknowledgement of him, Jamie waved back. Finally, young Master Wakefield turned and followed Mrs. Graham out of the store.

'Roger,' thought Jamie looking after the boy. He closed his eyes and chuckled as it dawned on him, 'Roger Wakefield! Of course!'

….oOo….

Claire walked down High Street in Inverness on her way back to Mrs. Baird's Inn. She was going to freshen up and change her clothes and then meet Frank at the pub for drinks later that evening.

As she approached Farrell's General Store she was inexplicably drawn toward the window display. It showed a myriad of blue and white ceramic vases. The display was backed by a cream colored gauzy curtain. For some reason her heart rate started to quicken and her eyes attempted to focus on something seemingly beyond the curtain but to no avail. She could not see anything there. Trying to understand why she had felt so compelled to look in the window she contemplated the vases and how and why she did not herself own one.

'I'd never lived any place long enough to justify having such a simple thing,' was the excuse she gave herself.

Then that strange feeling that brought her to the storefront gave her the sudden desire to obtain what was in there and she thought at that moment, 'I wanted nothing so much in all the world as to have a vase of my very own,' for she was convinced the feeling must have had something to do with the vases.

She turned around to survey the scene behind her as she contemplated whether to enter the shop or not. Catching the time on the clock tower, however, she realized she must hurry if she was to meet Frank on time.

….oOo….

Jamie stood transfixed, staring at Claire through the window. When she first approached the glass she seemed to focus on him behind the curtain and then her gaze fell to the display of vases. She stood there in contemplation for a few minutes and then left. Jamie exited the store and followed her.

He instinctively kept his distance so as not to alert her to his presence. He laughed at himself in chastisement when he remembered that he was a visitant and couldn't be seen. At the sound of his laughter, however, his quarry turned and looked back to where he was. Not seeing anything, she shook her head and resumed her path. He caught up to her quickly then, with his long strides, and was right behind her when she entered the inn.

She was greeted cheerily by Mrs. Baird, "Good afternoon deary, how has your holiday been? Will you and your husband be joining in the festivities this evening?"

"Yes, I am meeting him at Gellions Pub this evening so am here to freshen up."

"Och, Gellions! They always have the best music. I'm sure ye'll have a wonderful time."

The mention of her husband gave Jamie pause. In his euphoria over finally finding her, he had forgotten that she was married to someone else at this time. He did not follow her to her room as he had originally intended.

Stepping back outside he went and slumped down on the bench at the foot of the fountain that comprised the square across from the inn. He had to wrap his mind around the fact that at this point in time Claire was not yet his. She belonged to another man and if he remained here he was bound to see her happy and in love with that man – that man who wore the vile face his sworn enemy. He reasoned with himself that he had asked for this. He knew beforehand what he might see. Of course, she would travel through the stones to him soon enough. So he decided to remain and watch her from afar, resolving not to enter her… their bedchamber. He did not wish to witness what he might see in that place.

Knowing that she was to meet Frank at the local pub he rose and went there to wait for her.

….oOo….

As he stepped into Gellions Pub he sorely wished he could have a drink of whiskey, but alas…

He wandered around looking at all the things that were new to him. The most fascinating were the lights. There were no fires, lanterns or candles whatsoever and yet the room was well lit. Claire had told him about electricity and electric lights but this was his first time experiencing it.

Another thing he noticed was the women's attire – it was scandalous! The men didn't seem to dress that much differently from his time. However, for the women it seemed that it was acceptable to expose shoulders, arms, and legs, and in some cases all three at the same time! He remembered that Claire had tried to explain to him how this was considered acceptable in her time but for Jamie it was still a shock. No wonder Claire had looked so scantily clad when she arrived in 1743.

He decided to go look behind the bar and see what new fandangled things he might find there.

Well, it seemed that spirits were still sold in glass bottles and wooden kegs. Two hundred years hadn't made much of a difference in that regard.

Then he heard it… a strange shushing sound that seemed to only come when the barman stood in a certain location. As Jamie approached the spot he saw what could only have been the one thing Claire had talked so often and so wistfully about – indoor plumbing! At the turn of a simple knob the barman had a never ending supply of water instantly at his fingertips (literally) and the excess disappeared out of sight down a drain. Wow! And Claire had said you could have the water both cold and hot. Sinks, bathtubs, even flushing privies, she had described to him.

Now THAT was a testament to how much she had loved him. She was willing to give up such a significant convenience and luxury to remain with him in the 18th century. That was true love!

Just then he heard a sound that never failed to make his heart soar – Claire's laughter. He pivoted and saw her walk through the pub door. She was beautiful! She turned and said something to the person behind her but Jamie was transfixed solely on her radiant face as she walked past the bar.

With longing adoration he said, "Sassenach!"

Her smile fell slightly and she turned and nodded at the barman who just so happened to be right next to Jamie. Had she heard him and thought it was the barman labelling her as an outlander?

Finally he noticed her companion – Randall – Frank, that is. Jamie had to keep reminding himself. Frank had his hand on the small of her back directing her toward a table. They sat down together and ordered drinks.

The Reverend came and joined the couple for some time. After he left, however, Jamie was forced to witness the intimacy between Claire and her first husband. It didn't seem to be anywhere near the level of intimacy he had had with her but it still caused him to seethe in jealous misery. Jamie, the spectre, couldn't even relieve his stress with drink nor land a punch on that smug Randall face. He had to keep reminding himself that in just two days Claire would be with him in 1743. He may be here reliving his adventure but hers was about to begin.

….oOo….

After following Claire - and Frank - around for the past day Jamie was happy that evening when he finally saw Claire leave Reverend Wakefield's house alone. While the couple was at the manse, the phantom Jamie had felt compelled to remain hidden outside so as not to be seen again by the young lad, Roger. So when Claire emerged by herself Jamie had to step out from behind the bushes to trail after her.

On her walk through the town she stopped again to look at the vases in the window at Farrell's for a brief moment before returning to her room at Mrs. Baird's. From the fountain in the square just outside the inn Jamie had been able to determine which room was Claire's. He stood there looking up at the building waiting for any chance he might have to catch a glimpse of her.

Storm clouds moved in as the sun was going down causing the sky to darken quickly. As night drew on a heavy rain set in, thunder rumbled and lightning lit up the sky. Confident that he could not be seen Jamie remained standing by the fountain. No storm short of a hurricane could prevent him from basking in the nearness of his Claire.

A light came on in one of the windows of the inn and soon he saw Claire brushing her hair in a mirror. This vision brought back so many fond memories for him creating such a flood of emotion that he had to place a hand on the brickwork next to him to steady himself.

"Excuse me," he heard a voice approaching behind him say, "Can I help you with something?"

That voice was Randall's – Frank's. Jamie didn't realize that Frank was talking to him until he arrived at his side. He immediately turned away, brushed past Frank and disappeared. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, marking the end of the highlander's Samhain sojourn on the earth.

….oOo….

A/N: I found out from trip advisor dot com that Gellions is the oldest pub in Inverness. Their website gellions dot com says they have been there since 1841.

Although the aluminum beer barrel was invented in 1933 after the end of prohibition in the United States (necessity IS the mother of invention: prohibition had put most coopers out of business hence the need for alternate means of storage and transport. Source: beer and brewing dot com), I am assuming they may not have been all that common in 1946 Inverness. Also, googling '1940s beer kegs' results in images of wooden casks.