#from what i’ve seen we’ve just looked at modern ken and dirk

[skaianettechsupport]

if Dirk watches My Little Pony (which he does) and reads Pony Pals (which he does) then it is my opinion that he also watches classic Barbie movies. them shits are FULL of weird horse content and they have the right vibe for him to get invested i think

[takemeawaytocamelot]

Speed Dating - Dinner Date

Well then! The one-shot story that’s become an actual thing is back! @outlanderedandoverhere was just amazing giving me this prompt to start this series. And a big shout out to her for helping me with a choice of music for Jamie to enjoy. @diversemediums @outlandishchridhe and I did quite a bit of ‘frolicking away’ last night when I wrote most of this. Don’t worry. I’ll give y’all a BTS post soon. For now, enjoy the next installment!

The Morning After

Jamie looked around his kitchen, satisfied. Earlier that afternoon, he’d gathered some carrots from his garden, along with the herbs to season everything with. The salmon would be done in just a few minutes, just in time for Claire’s arrival. He’d texted her earlier to let her know the front door was open and to just come in. The salad sat in the bowl, waiting for the vinaigrette he’d fixed the night before. She’d called just before she’d left her tiny flat and he’d started the carrots to boiling.

“Ah,” he muttered to himself. “Too quiet.”

Nibbling on one of the smaller carrots he decided not to cook, he turned on the stereo he’d installed in the kitchen. He had no ear for pitch, but he found that didn’t bother him so much when he listened to certain kinds of electronic pop. The lads at the stable didn’t know about his music preferences and he would never ever tell them.

If ever I try to push away

You can just keep me there*

The upbeat sounds of synthesized pop flooded the kitchen as he finished cooking the carrots. Everything was nearly finished. All that was left was Claire.

My GPS unit told me to take one final turn and I stopped the car. There was no way this was Jamie’s house. The gate (it had a gate!) was open and I drove up to park near the front door. He’d told me to just go in and I hesitated briefly. But the sound of techno music had me curious, so I walked inside.

“Jamie?”

No answer. So I followed the music until I found the kitchen.

A vase full of wildflowers was in the middle of the table, candles scattered around it. The table was long, sitting near one of the large windows looking out over a well groomed garden. Movement caught my eye and I looked over to the stove and saw Jamie. I think he was trying to dance.

I stood for a moment, just watching as his hips popped from one side to the other with the beat of the music. He turned around, the end of a carrot sticking out of his mouth, pot of boiling water in his hands.

“Well hello there,” I said, trying to keep from laughing.

After a slight hesitation, he gave me a sheepish smile and finished with whatever he’d been doing. He swallowed the carrot he’d been chewing and came over to kiss me.

“Glad ye made it,” he said, letting me go finally.

“I never would have thought of you as a techno pop sort of man,” I said, leaning against the countertop.

Just looking around his kitchen, I thought it was larger than my whole flat.

“Aye, weel… I dinna have much of an ear for music, ken? I canna hear pitch for the most part, so it all just sounds like noise to me. But synthesized pop… I dinna need to hear the music to feel it.”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. My God, whatever you’re making smells wonderful.”

“Good! I havena cooked for anyone in some time. And never for a lass I had over.”

My cheeks flushed as he gazed at me.

“Then I’m honored. And I’m honored that you’ve chosen to share this with me. This house is… It’s stunning, Jamie.”

He turned away then, fiddling with one thing or another.

“I dinna like to talk about the money I have. In the past, it’s been… difficult. Women are either attracted to me because of it, or they’re intimidated when they find out. I ken it’s big and expensive, but it holds all my nieces and nephews when they come for a visit. It lets me gi’ a room to a lad from the stable when he falls on hard times.”

So sharing this with me, sharing his home, meant even more than he’d let on. It was important to him that I not define him by his money. I’d never been the sort of person to care about money or status. Not that I wouldn’t mind a little more of it myself, if only to escape my tiny flat.

“I think it suits you,” I said, watching him still bounce a little at the music playing. “And I don’t care how much money you do or don’t have. That’s not why I took you home.”

“Ah,” he said, pulling salmon out of the oven. “I kent that was the way of it. Ye took me home to have yer way wi’ me and send me on my way.”

I couldn’t help but giggle, which had been his intention.

“You’ve discovered me,” I said.

“Come wi’ me to the dining room, if ye please,” he said, a plate of cooked carrots in his hands.

He sat me at one end of the table, setting the carrots down before turning back. I started to get up.

“No, please. Sit. I’d like ye to be surprised when I plate it. Have some o’ the wine if ye like. I’ll be back presently.”

As he disappeared back to the kitchen, I smiled to myself, picking up the glass in front of me and taking a drink. The pleasure Jamie took in preparing dinner for me was endearing. The way he smiled and planned every part told me just how much he’d been looking forward to it.

When he returned, he had two plates with beautifully glazed salmon on a platter. A crystal bowl of salad nestled itself between the carrots and the fish.

“Jamie! This looks like something out of a magazine!”

“D’ye like it?”

“It’s beautiful! Oh thank you for this!”

Glowing with pride, he sat down on the other end of the table and we ate. We held polite conversation, which more often than not devolved into shameless flirting. It was easy with him, though, like we were meant to be.

“Now,” he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Would ye like the grand tour?”

“Is this your plan to get me into your bed?” I asked, setting my own napkin down.

“Ye think I’d be so obvious?”

I snorted.

“Yes, actually. I do. But… I would like the tour.”

“And if it happened to end at my bedroom?”

I shrugged, standing with my plate in hand.

“If we happen to end up there, I suppose we’ll see what happens.”

He grinned at me and I followed him to the kitchen. After rinsing the plates, he loaded them in the washer and offered me a hand.

“If ye would, my lady.”

I laced our fingers together, following him as he started the grand tour. I tried to tally up how many times I could fit my flat into this place but eventually gave up.

“I’ve got a few trophies in here,” he said, motioning around one of the sitting rooms. “I dinna like to flaunt it, but I’m proud of the things we’ve won.”

“You always say ‘we’, you know.”

He frowned in question at me.

“Whenever you talk about something that the stables has accomplished, you always say ‘we’ instead of ‘I’.”

“Well, it isna just me. I canna take credit for something I didna do.”

“Because,” I stopped walking, pulling him down for a kiss. “You are a very good man.”

As we walked, he explained his design choices for each bedroom. When he’d bought the place, he knew that he would change almost everything. But each room was nice without being pushy about how expensive it was. He lead me upstairs and around to the rooms there as well. When we came to the last door, he paused.

He couldn’t meet my eyes, though he didn’t drop my hand.

“This is… This is my sanctuary. I’ve no’ brought another soul into this room before. No’ even my sister or brother in law have seen it. I keep it locked when the kids are about so they willna sneak in.”

“And you’re willing to let me in?”

Jamie shrugged his shoulders as if his shirt was too tight (it wasn’t) and took a long breath. Then he looked up at me, letting me see every single thing he felt. His eyes were full of fear and nervous energy, but trust and adoration too.

“Aye. I want to share everything wi’ ye, Claire. This room, even more than the house, is my home. I would like to invite ye into my home, mo nighean donn.”

The door opened without a sound and he waved me into the room. Every other room in his house was sleek and modern, filled with creature comforts because he could afford them. But this… This was something altogether different.

The bed was massive, which should have made the room feel small and cramped. Instead, it made the whole place feel lived in. The quilt was a lovely plaid pattern and looked to be a high quality wool. Without even thinking, I walked forward and ran my hand over it, marveling at how soft it felt. Jamie waited at the door as I explored his safe place.

On the wall across from his bed was a beautifully framed Scottish flag. It was old, tattered around the edges, the white faded into an odd yellowish color. Beside on the wall was an antique dirk, the same that Highlanders wore at their sides in the eighteenth century.

The colors of this room were warmer, more rustic, and they felt more like the Jamie I was getting to know. As I moved around the room, I found that one wall was windows, with French doors that opened out onto a small balcony. The view from this room was incredible, the stars in the night sky glittering like diamonds.

“This is beautiful,” I said, keeping my voice low.

“Thank ye.”

I forced myself away from the window and turned to look at the photos on the wall. An old wedding photo with a tall, graceful woman who had Jamie’s hair and a man with dark hair and bright blue eyes was in a silver frame. Beside it was a scattering of photos of children and a few adults.

“Are these your family?”

“Aye. Mam and Da,” he nodded to the wedding photo. “My sister Jenny recreated their photo when she married my best mate Ian. They’ve got a gaggle of bairns, as ye can see.”

The smile in his voice had me looking up at him to see mischief in his eyes.

“Jenny complains that she’s done carryin’ his bairns. Then a few months later, she announces she’s pregnant again. But they’re happy. They kent they wanted a lot of bairns and Jenny doesna really mind.”

“They’re a beautiful family,” I said, looking back at the photos of the children on the wall.

“Their eldest son, the one in the wee kilt there. His name is Jamie, after me. Jenny and me are verra close, ken?”

I stared, for a long moment, at a family photo. Jenny and Jamie, with a man I assumed to be Jenny’s husband Ian, and a few small children. Jamie was sharing his innermost feelings with me and I felt compelled to do the same.

“I’m an orphan,” I blurted. “My parents died in a car crash when I was very young. My Uncle Lambert raised me. He was an anthropology professor who was invited to go on digs all over the world, so I traveled quite a bit.”

Jamie was quiet, just watching me as I showed him my secrets.

“I’ve dated a few times, but it never felt right. I used to stare at my parent’s wedding photo when I was little, just to see how much they loved each other. I knew, even at that age, that was what I wanted. To be loved that way, that deeply… Lamb loved me, I knew he did. He did his best to take care of me.”

“But he wasna your father,” Jamie said quietly.

I shook my head, feeling my throat grow tight at the memory of my lost family.

“I’ve never been in love,” I said in a soft voice, looking down at my hands. “Every relationship I’ve had never felt right, never gave me the satisfaction I craved. It’s like I never really connected with any of them. I certainly never told them about my life.”

“And ye shared it wi’ me.”

His hands took mine, large and warm as he squeezed gently. I looked up at him and met his kind gaze. Sharing all this with him made me feel more vulnerable than I’d ever been before. Unfounded fear sprang up within me and I didn’t know what to do about it. Whatever this relationship was, it terrified me. I trusted Jamie, though I wasn’t totally sure why. But this was so much, so quickly.

I’d told him the truth, none of my previous relationships had ever felt right. Being with Jamie did feel right, but I was afraid. Opening yourself to someone like this left the potential for hurt. We’d known each other for two full days and here I was, revealing my most secret self.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered, pulling my hands back. “Jamie, I don’t…”

“Shhh,” he said, letting me go. “Ye dinna need to be scairt of me, Claire. I’m no’ gonna force ye into something ye dinna want.”

“I know,” I said, shaking my head in an effort to order my own thoughts. “I never thought you would. But…”

He hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my face until I met his eyes again.

“Is this moving too fast for ye, mo chridhe? We can slow things down if ye like. Go out for regular dates, learn more about each other.”

When I made no reply, he took a step back from me.

“Would ye like to go home?”

I felt suddenly empty, even though the space between us was a small one. Terrified as I was, being near him felt safe. That connection I wanted so much was there, between Jamie and myself.

“No,” I finally said. “I don’t want to go home.”

Jamie was comfort and safety. I knew if I let myself stay away from him, allowed our date to end here, it would be over. If things slowed down, I was afraid it would stop altogether. So I reached out and put my hand on his chest, just over his heart. He waited for a moment, just staring at my hand, before he looked up and met my eyes.

“What is it ye want, then?” he asked in a soft, low voice.

I closed the distance between us, our gazes still locked.

“To be myself,” I said. “I want to be myself and…” my cheeks flushed a little. “I want to see you, James Fraser.”

He made a Scottish noise deep in his throat.

“Ye do, mo ghraidh. You have seen more o’ me than any other living person. And I see you, Claire Beauchamp.”

Then he leaned down and kissed me. Somehow the delicate way his lips touched mine melted my worries. I drew myself closer, deepening the kiss as his arms came around me. The lacy black dress I wore felt suddenly constricting. Jamie’s hand moved slowly up my back until he found the zipper.

His fingers brushed against my skin, igniting a fire in me as our kisses became more urgent. Without warning, he turned me around and held me steady. I was a little dizzy and wobbled a little, but his hands on my shoulders kept me on my feet.

“Wh… Why…”

It was almost impossible to form a coherent thought.

“Bloody zipper got stuck.”

After a little tugging and creative Gaelic curses, he got it loose. His hands, work worn as they were, caressed my skin tenderly. I found myself leaning back into his touch, craving him. His lips visited my neck, my shoulders, anywhere he could reach. Then he was pushing the dress off my shoulders, hands sliding down my sides to help it the rest of the way off.

My head fell back against his shoulder when his hand slid down my stomach and inside my panties. He was slow and steady, making me tremble and whimper. I bit my bottom lip while he stroked me. Soon, my hips churned with the rhythm of his hand, the sound of his breathing. The heat of his breath burned on my neck, sending tremors through my body. His other hand came up to cup my breast. I must have made some sort of squeaking sound because I heard him chuckling in my ear.

“Dinna hold back, Sassenach.” He said, a smile in his voice. “The neighbors willna hear ye.”

I could only whimper in response as his finger entered me, my body bucking back into his own need as he held me firmly upright against him. I struggled against his hold, though I had no desire to escape. Finally I cried out, jerking as waves of pleasure crashed over me. His arms never slackened and I knew he was the only reason I was still vertical.

I staggered a little when he eventually let go, but I sat down on his bed before I fell over. He pulled madly at his belt and I noticed how heavily he was breathing. But I needed to touch him, so I got to my feet and reached for him. The belt gave and he wrenched it free, his trousers dropping around his ankles. I’d just gotten my fingers under the waistband of his underwear when he pulled my face up.

This kiss was… more. For the first time in my life, I yielded and was consumed. We fell backwards onto the bed, with me struggling to get his shirt unbuttoned. I couldn’t remember when my underwear had come off, or my bra, but it didn’t much matter. All I cared about was that he filled me, hot and hard when his flesh touched mine.

I surrendered myself to him, giving him everything I was as he made love to me. I’d never opened myself this way, not to anyone. But with Jamie, it didn’t feel like I was losing something so much as I was gaining something. Allowing myself to feel everything, becoming his, didn’t take away who I was.

Jamie seemed to accept what I gave him, and he reciprocated, giving me all of himself. Though we spoke no words, we communicated how much we meant to each other. Our bodies spoke a language unknown to me before, leaving nothing to be misunderstood.

My hands dug into his buttocks and I cried out his name as he brought me to completion. His thrusts grew less rhythmic as he neared his own end. I arched my back, angling my hips a little more to help him along. He let out a low, guttural sound as he climaxed, his body pinning mine to the bed.

He kissed me for several long minutes, both of us sticky with sweat. I’d probably want to shower later, but for now, I didn’t want to let Jamie go. Slowly, he nibbled down my neck and back up before he rolled off me.

“Tha gaol agam ort,” he whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

“I don’t really have much Gaelic,” I whispered back, turning onto my side as he wrapped an arm around me.

“Dinna fash. I’ll teach ye.”

After a little adjusting, we snuggled up beneath the bed sheets, my back to his front.

“You won’t tell me what that one means, will you?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.

“No’ just yet. Will ye stay the night wi’ me?”

I started laughing, oddly giddy and full of happiness.

“Do you honestly think I could walk out to my car after that?”

Jamie chuckled and kissed the top of my shoulder.

“I did my job, then. Rest, mo chridhe.”

With his arms securely around me, I settled in to sleep.

He couldn’t sleep. Not yet. Not when he held the whole world in his arms. Claire slept hard, the flush faded from her cheeks, though her lips still held the hint of her smile. He tucked a stray curl behind one ear, letting his finger trace the line of her jaw. She truly was the most stunning woman he’d ever seen.

“Lord,” he whispered, pitching his voice low so as not to wake her. “Ye gave me a rare woman. And God, I will love her well.”

*Clearest Blue by CHVRCHES