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#jamie sitting alone and injured in the dressing room just made me go !!!!!
richmondtillidie · 11 months
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Ted Lasso | 1.10 vs 3.11
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holylulusworld · 5 years
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Go to your girl
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Summary: Months ago, Steve and you parted ways. Now your sister Pepper invited you to her fiancées party. What happens when you bump into your ex?
Pairing: former Steve Rogers x Reader, Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Dr. Cho
Warnings: angst, unrequited love, injured reader, comforting, fluff
Marvel Masterlist
“I don’t know if this was a good idea, Pep, you know I hate parties with so many people.” You whine glancing at the door parting you from the people inside.
“Y/N, it’s been months since you…” Pepper stops in her tracks, realizing what she was about to say. You sister always knows when you are about to cry and right now, you are close to tears. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault, Pep…I was never…I should leave.” You sniffle, glancing at your shoes, high heels. You hate this kind of shoes, always did. “I don’t know how you can walk in these shoes. I call them nightmares…”
“Y/N come on. Let’s have some fun. Dance a bit. Have a drink or two. Tony is waiting for us. He was talking about you and that you finally come around again for over a week. Sam is happy, Natasha too.”
“Pepper, I don’t know. I just don’t want to…” Pepper is taking your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I know, sis. Right now, it hurts he broke up with you but soon you will meet someone else, a nice man, okay. Maybe even tonight. How about Sam?”
“Sam has a girlfriend, Pep.”
“Too bad. He’s a nice guy. I would allow him to marry you.” Pepper states dragging you toward the room.
The doors open as Sam and Clint walk out to welcome you and Pepper. Now it’s too late to run away so you take a deep breath and hold tight onto your sisters’ hand while she walks toward Tony.
“Kiddo! Finally. We all missed you here.” Tony exclaims and you wish you could just disappear as the whole room stopped talking and is now glancing at you, Tony and your sister.
“Hey, Tony. I’ve missed you too.” You whisper rubbing your arm nervously. “How’s business?”
“Not as good as it was while you were working for me, Y/N.” Tony sighs. “Captain A messed up my business.”
“Tony!” Pepper warns. “We had an agreement. I’ll bring my sister and you won’t say a specific person’s name.”
“It’s fine, Pep. You’re right, it’s been months since he gave me the boot. I should move on. He for sure did.” You choke out seeing Steve entering the room with an arm candy by his side. The woman looks like a supermodel. Someone you could never compare with.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know Steve would bring someone with him.” Tony sighs seeing the hurting all over your face. “I would’ve said something for sure.”
“Save it, Tony,” Pepper mutters clenching her fists. “I should hit him hard. Maybe with a baseball bat?”
“You are watching the walking dead way too often.” You tease trying to change the subject. Still, your eyes drift toward Steve who tries to not look at you.
“We still can leave the party, sis.” Your sister's eyes meet yours as you wipe away a single tear.
“No. Just dance with Tony. I saw Nat and Wanda over there. I’m going to talk to them for a while.” Pepper watches you slowly walking toward your friends as Natasha squeals.
“Babe! Finally, the gang is back together.” Natasha chuckles and you smile at her. Natasha can see through your façade, she doesn’t need Wanda’s powers to see the heartbreak on your features.
“Hey…I’ve missed you too.” You whisper sliding into a seat next to Wanda. “How have you been?”
“Let’s see. Bruce finally admitted he likes me.” Natasha starts. “At the same time, he said we can’t be together…”
“That sucks.” You sigh cradling your face with your hands, glancing at the drinks the bartender placed in front of you and your friends.
“You are telling me. Why the heck is Rogers bringing an arm candy to this party knowing you would be here too?” Natasha mutters glaring at Steve.
“I’m not his girlfriend any longer. He made this very clear. I don’t want to talk about him…”
“Have seen someone?” Wanda asks already knowing your answer. “No…” You whisper looking away, ashamed you are still clinging to Steve and the memory of your relationship.
“Girl, you need to get laid.” Natasha mutters downing her drink. “How about Bucky? Perfect revenge. Fucking Steve’s best friend.”
“Nat, I don’t want to. I just need more time, is all. He can move on easily. Steve was the one not wanting us any longer.”
“I’m sorry, Babe. I was just babbling nonsense. Take your time to get over Captain Asshole…”
----
“So, Natasha tried to fill you up?” Pepper asks as you try to stand comfortably in your way too uncomfortable high heels. “She tried. Maybe I should leave…” Your eyes drift toward Steve who is glancing at you when you are not looking. Now he tries so hard to not look at you, not to admire the way your dress fits your curves.
“I’m sorry he brought this woman with him. Sorry for not warning you he will break your heart. I’m lucky your sister is not mad at me.” Tony sighs.
“Tony, I told you it’s not your fault months ago. I was not good enough for Steve, it’s my fault, not yours, Peppers or freaking Captain America’s, okay.” You grunt. “I’m out of this for good. I’m sorry but I just…”
Turning on your heels you grab your dress to lift it, running toward the exit.
----
Finally, outside you try to get out of the building as fast as possible. You don’t see the piece of glass on the stairs before your heels slip and you fall down the stairs, cursing.
Shaking and wincing in pain you try to get up and fail. Your ankle hurts. Glancing at your foot you can see it’s black and blue.
“Great, fucking great!” You curse trying to get your purse. It lies a bit further away and right now the pain is too overwhelming to move so you just sit on the cold floor, starting to cry.
“Y/N? God, what happened?” A deep voice rumbles rushing down the stairs to check on you. “Your foot looks like it’s broken. I’ll get help.” Steve says.
“Go back.” You mutter. “Go back to your girl and leave me alone. That’s your specialty. I don’t need or want your help. I rather feel the pain than letting you helping me. You’ve done enough.” You finally snap, cursing and yelling you blur all the things out you wanted to say to Steve when he broke up with you.
“Y/N, let me help you.” Steve tries but you stay adamant, shaking your head.
“Fuck you, Rogers! Why caring about my physical pain if my emotional didn’t matter? Huh? Or is it that. Do you like to see me broken? Does this turn you on? Get out of my eyes. I hate you…” Tears well up your eyes but you won’t cry. Not in front of Steve.
“I’ll get you help…”
“No. Go to your girl…”
----
Steve left and it feels like ages till you can reach your purse to get your phone. A sigh leaves your lips as you get it out only to see the display broken.
“Awesome…” You curse smashing the broken phone against the wall.
“Y/N, I’m back with Dr. Cho. It took longer to find her.” Steve pants dragging the doctor with him. “She’s in pain.”
“Whoa…pretty swollen and for sure broken.” Dr. Cho says looking at your foot. “I’ll get a stretcher.”
“No need for that,” Steve exclaims before he picks you up, carrying you toward the medical bay in bridal style.
“Let me down. I told you to go to your girl, Rogers.” You yell trying to get out of his tight grip. “Doll, I followed your order and went to my girl. Now let me carry you.”
“I’m not your girl!” You grunt punching his chest. “Let me go!”
“Pepper and Tony are on their way.” Dr. Cho says. “If you want to discuss anything with Ms. Potts you should do it right now.” She warns and Steve nods, swallowing hard.
“Baby…” Steve begins, and you glare at him, slapping his cheek. “Stop calling me like that, asshole.”
“No, swear words.” Steve retorts clearing his throat. “I broke up with you to set you free. I thought you want someone else.”
“Someone else? I got no clue what you are talking about, Rogers. Cause I wasn’t with someone else, unlike you.” Narrowing your eyes, you purse your lips.
“I saw you with this guy…” Steve mutters. “On your high-school reunion.”
“Jamie? You mean this guy not leaving my side even after I told him to get lost? I’m not into this smeary guy. I never even liked him during high school. He was only into dragging a girl into his bed.” You snarl slapping Steve’s cheek again.
“Ouch, that hurt.”
“Sure, Captain. I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you.”
“Y/N, you are the only one able to hurt me. I thought I have to let you go, have to give you the chance to get happy.” Steve’s eyes meet yours as he places you onto the hospital bed.
“Let me go? To do what? I got no clue what you are talking about Steve. I was happy with you. I loved you and I thought you love me too. Then out of the blue, you broke up with me. Ripped my heart out for nothing…” You sniffle not able to stop your body from shaking.
“I’m sorry. So sorry…Baby Girl. Please give me the chance to…”
“To what, Rogers?” Pepper mutters storming into the room. “Didn’t you do enough? For months my sister barely eats, sleep or even lives. What else can you want to do to her?”
“I’m sorry. This was all a misunderstanding…Please…” Steve tries but Pepper is in rage. Her anger is taking a toll on her, so she tries to attack Steve.
“Tony, bring Pepper out.” You whisper. “Calm her…”
“I won’t leave you alone with the man breaking your heart to run around with this brainless arm candy!” Pepper curses ready to attack Steve.
“Please…”
“Fine. He’s got five minutes then I’m coming for him. I know how to use Tony’s suit…” Pepper warns pointing at Steve.
----
“Done. Your foot will be as good as new in a few weeks.” Dr. Cho says as you glance at the cast around your ankle. “How shall I walk with this?” You ask.
“No need for that. I’m going to carry you around.” Steve exclaims picking you up once again. “Let me down, Rogers.”
“Now I know you don’t want this guy, I’m going to bring you to my room and never let you go. I’m sorry for jumping into conclusions without talking things out. I will never hurt you again. Except for you want me to…” Steve whispers the last part. “…in the bedroom.”
“Rogers! Hands off my sister!” Pepper threatens. “I mean it.”
“Pep…he’s sorry. I’ll explain everything tomorrow but now I’m too tired to fight, discuss or whatever. I’ll just want to sleep and he refuses to let me go.”
“Let…what the fuck!” Pepper mutters following Steve carrying you toward his room. “You can’t just take my sister with you.”
“UH, I can…” Steve retorts. “I’m going to make it up to her, you and Tony but right now my girl needs a rest. She fell down the stairs thanks to your stupid high heels. I will not allow her to wear this crap ever again. Now I’m going to bring my girl home.”
“You…!”
“Pepper let them talk things out. Let’s head home…” Tony tries, grabbing your sisters hand.
“But…”
----
“That’s it. You are clean, comfortable and tugged into my bed. Now I’m going to get you a glass of water and a midnight snack.” Steve says opening his nightstand to show you different sweets. “I bought these for you…uh…what do you want?”
“An explanation why you are such an idiot.” You curse and Steve sighs, nodding. “I’m sorry but before I was Captain America I was used to girls overlooking me. I was used to watching the girl I like walking away with someone else. Sometimes I still feel like this thin, weak guy not getting the girl he loves.”
“Did you look in the mirror lately? Hell, Steve, you are freaking sexy. But you are more than just a pretty face and muscles…freaking lots of muscles.” You trail of ogling Steve.
“I know, Baby Girl. You wanted to know the reason. This is the reason.”
“You are giving me a headache, Steven Grant Rogers, I love you, stupid idiot. Now let me sleep. My foot hurts, just like my head.” You mutter snuggling into his pillow.
“Will you ever forgive me?” Steve asks and you glance at him as he lies next to you. “Well…at least you went to your girl.���
“Yeah. I did…”
“Go to your girl, Rogers…”
“I’ll always go to you, Y/N…”
All works Tags
@yolobloggers, @meganywinchester​, @shikshinkwon​, @miraclesoflove ​, @mogaruke, @shatteredabby
Marvel Tags
@stuckys-whore, @notyourtypicalrose, @voltage-my2dlove, @thedoctorscamanion , @officialmarvelwhore, @randomgirlkensy, @juniorhuntersam, @lumar014, @doctorswife221b, @badboysdoitbetter2​, @sister-winchesters99
Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags
@hhiggs​​, @roonyxx​, @stylesismyhubs​
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otheroutlandertales · 5 years
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Witches - Part 7
by @whiskynottea
Claire’s shoulder hurt more with every passing minute. After carefully sitting on the ground, she tried to calm down and focus on her inner healing power.
The breeze raised goosebumps on her exposed arms. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand against her ribcage. The air was fresh with the earthy scent of heather. She could almost taste it. Claire kept her breath for four seconds, counting inside her head, and then slowly exhaled. Just like Raymond had taught her.
Raymond. Tears prickled her eyes.
She had ruined everything. Her plan had seemed perfect when she first conceived of it back at Lallybroch. Go to the future, find Raymond, ask him for a poison and an antidote. Clean, fast, effective. She even had the gall to think it would be easy.
And now… Now she knew that she had risked her life out of sheer foolishness. And more importantly, she had risked Raymond’s life.
Claire dipped her fingers in the package Raymond had given her and bit her lips to keep the tears inside. She could almost hear Raymond’s voice chastising her for losing her focus on the matter at hand.
She had ended up at Craigh na Dun again, and judging by the absence of electric poles around her the time seemed right. She couldn’t be sure. She had touched the stone the moment she had the curare in her hands, and with the Comte holding a gun and rushing towards her, she had no time to think. She had to disappear.
She wasn’t fast enough.
Claire clutched her arm, moving it gently to study the wound. The bullet hadn’t gone through and she kept bleeding. She knew she had to stop the haemorrhage before she’d lose too much blood. He palm was bloody, but her fingers were stable.
Claire cupped the wound on her shoulder, closed her eyes and started breathing again. Slowly, deliberately. She emptied her mind of every thought, concentrating on the power that ran through her veins. That mystical energy that created the soft blue light and made her body hum a mysterious, inaudible tune.
She could hear it. She could feel it warming her hand.
The haemorrhage stopped. She needed to remove the bullet and clean the wound, but that would have to wait. Instead, she tore the hem of her dress -- Jenny’s dress -- and hastily bound her shoulder. The lace strip was now wasted for good. Jenny wouldn’t mind, but Claire did. It wasn’t as though her friend had many dresses and shifts to begin with, but Claire had no choice.
She walked down the hill, slowly, carefully. Every step jolted her arm, the pain shooting right through her shoulder. She set her jaw. Lallybroch was days away, but she had to make it. She just had to.
It didn’t take long for her to start crying. The physical pain together with the anguish and terror of what had happened after she disappeared were more than she could handle. She stopped and screamed, her cry of despair and anger frightening the birds in the fields. When her voice cracked and her throat was sore, she closed her trembling lips and continued walking.
She was exhausted. Her magic cost her a good deal of her energy.
Claire stayed off the road, choosing smaller trails while trying not to get disoriented. Hours passed by, and her feet felt leaden and clumsy, stumbling on the outcrops and making her painfully aware of the injury on her shoulder.
She kept moving, murmuring, praying, hoping that Raymond had escaped. He was strong, more powerful than most of them. It was impossible that he would die that easily. No. St Germain couldn’t get him.
But there was a chance he would be dead. Because of her. Because she could never follow his instruction. “Don’t come looking for me, Madonna,” he had said. And yet, she went. Her recklessness had killed him.
She should go back. Back to save him, back to help him, wherever he was.
But she couldn’t. Not now, not in this state.
Her thoughts had distracted her so much that she had missed the sound of hooves coming closer. She could see the outline of the horse and the rider under the moonlight, when she jumped behind the bushes at her left, feeling their branches prickle her arms and legs before she fell and crashed her arm against the soil. It took all the strength she had not to scream in pain.
The rider reduced the horse’s speed as he approached, but the angle was bad and Claire couldn’t see him. Which meant that, with luck, he wouldn’t see her either.
Using her good arm, Claire crawled away from the trail, her breath laboured and loud in her ears.
A rider in the dark was never an auspicious prospect. The horse moved past her and she held onto hope that he'd not notice her...until the hooves stopped.
This couldn't be the Comte. He wouldn’t have a horse. He was coming from the opposite direction than Craigh na dun. No, please, not the Comte.
Before she had time to rise on her feet and break into a run, a warm hand landed on her shoulder. Her injured shoulder.
This time she cried out -- in pain, in fear, in frustration -- and turned around, wanting to move her shoulder away from his grasp.
“Claire? Lass…”
Her eyes widened as she took him in, realising that it was Jamie’s distressed face hovering inches away from hers as he leaned down to look at her.
“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, all air swooshing out of her body in relief. Next moment Jamie was trying to help her up, only to win a half-screamed “Jamie!” from her, and look at her in bewilderment.
Claire bit her lip hard, trying to breathe evenly until the flashes of pain stopped. Jamie’s hands were rigid on his sides, but he neither moved nor took his eyes away from her. The pain subsided, leaving Claire depleted, and she leaned into him until her forehead was against his chest.
Jamie moved carefully, looping one arm around her waist, while his other hand found the nape of her neck and tilted her head up until she met his gaze. “Are ye alright?” He moved back, his gaze on her bandaged shoulder. “How d’ye get hit?” he asked in a deliberately placid voice and worried eyes.
“I am...alright,” she managed to whisper, not really answering his question.  
“Ye’re so white,” he murmured, softly running the back of his fingers along her cheekbones. “What happened? It’s been five days since ye left.”
“Five days?” Fatigue and disappointment took the better of her now that she wasn’t alone anymore, and sobs started racking her body. “Claire?” Jamie took her in his arms, but she shook her head repeatedly, trying to take control of her body and find her voice again.
“We don’t have time. A few days are left and we need to act fast.” With the package holding the potion and the antidote in her hand she looked back, in the direction of the enchanted hill, as if she would sense the Comte if he’d found her. “And leave his place,” she added as an afterthought. “In case he’s after me.”
“Who? Master Raymond?” Jamie’s scowl and the incredulity in his voice made chuckle.
“No.” She looked straight into his eyes, grey in the dim light, knowing that this wasn’t the time for explanations. “Jamie… Take me to Lallybroch.”
He did.
--
The cold compress was the first thing Claire felt. Then, she heard Jenny’s soft voice.
“Ye’re alright, Claire. Ye’re safe now.”
Someone was pacing back and forth in the small room, the steps light yet restless. The feet presently stopped, and Claire felt the mattress give in under the weight of Jamie who was now looking intently at her.
Jenny’s eyes locked on her brother’s, effectively shushing him before she spoke again. “Are ye feeling better, Claire?”
She nodded, then ran her eyes along her arm and inspected her shoulder. It was bandaged with clean cloths and the pain had subsided, but the bullet was still inside and it had to be removed.
“The bullet,” she mumbled. “I need to remove the bullet. It didn’t run through.”
Jenny smiled a weird, proud smile. It was closer to a smug grin, and it made Claire frown at her best friend.
“What?” she asked, trying to understand why her wound made Jenny’s face shine.
“I did it,” Jenny said, smiling even wider. “Like ye had done when MacNab got shot, remember? I used yer tweezers and all and removed the bullet.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Claire shook her head, eyes full of admiration and love, and the only thing she could think at that moment was how lucky she was to meet Jenny that day in Inverness.
“Can ye tell us what happened, Claire? In the future?” Jamie asked, impatiently.
Claire took several deep breaths to calm down and swallowed hard, her throat sore and dry. She had all the siblings’ attention as she narrated the events of the previous day -- in her timeline, at least. When she finished, the Frasers had twin looks of concern on their faces.
“This Comte...” Jenny shook her head as if to put her thoughts in order. “He shot ye, because he needs ye alive for himself?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. I always thought he wanted me dead. Raymond had said they don’t want me to reach my full power, but this one… This one may want my power for him.” Claire sighed. “I really don’t know. These are only speculations.”
Jamie’s face was set in an unreadable mask. “If he dares come here,” he started menacingly but didn’t manage to finish his threat.
“He doesn’t know where I am,” Claire reassured them. “And the moment we free Alex, I’ll leave.”
“No, ye won’t.” Both Frasers spoke in one voice, setting their jaws, ready for a fight.
“I won’t risk you.” Not like I risked Raymond, she thought, but didn’t say it aloud.
Jamie’s body was rigid, but Jenny moved closer and pulled Claire in a hug, mindful of her injured shoulder. “Ye won’t risk us. And ye’re not leaving.” Claire tried to voice her disagreement, but Jenny didn’t give her a chance. “Rest now, and when you’re ready, we’ll be in the kitchen. I’ve news to tell you.”
“News?” Claire asked, alarmed. “What news?”
“First, rest. Then, come to eat. I made broth for ye. We’ll need all yer powers, Claire, if we want to succeed.”
She hated to admit it, but Claire knew Jenny was right. Taking her friend’s advice, she sank into the bed and slept.
Part 8
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cottonwren · 5 years
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A Well Dressed Woman  | Part 8
Summary: Guns, and lots of them. Tommy is a confused sub and a good bro.
Words: 2005
A/N: THANK  YOU SO MUCH TO ANYONE WHO STILL CARES ABOUT THIS STORY! <3 Feedback and reblogs are the way to keep me writing consistently, and most of my stuff is out the way so I’m going to start on requests! 
------
Jamie was a little out of it even after Tommy had dropped her home, and she had managed to get changed coherently before driving into the offices. Nothing felt off, so she parked the car normally and walked into the building, greeted by a smirk and familiar red hair, just where they needed to be.
“Morning, Jamie!” Linn smiled, wrapping her arms around her “Did you have a good night out with Tommy?” She asked with a smirk and an eyebrow wiggle “Or, better to say, good night in?”
“We had a good night, thank you. A very good night. His son is absolutely adorable” Jamie told her, taking her jacket off and hanging it on the hook. “How is business?” She asked, walking towards her office.
“Sales are up” Linn told her with pride in her voice “And nothing happened in your absence. I handled it well. You may go about your business, I am going to go do some math.”
“I’ll see you at lunch then, I’ll take you out to that cafe you like so much” Jamie winked, sitting down at her desk and waving Linn off.
“Tommy really has put you in a good mood, hasn’t he?” Linn teased before walking into her office, secluded down the hallway.
Jamie chuckled, muttering something under her breath and rolling her eyes. She got on with some neglected paperwork, humming a light tune under her breath - not something she’d ever done before.
“Jamie! Jamie, go! Run!” Came Samson’s voice like a panic siren, and then, like a staple through the worst accords, there was a gunshot. Jamie knew, then, that Samson was dead. Her first thought was not to go run for him, his family, his life. Her first thought was a curtain of ginger hair. Dashing through one of the doorways, she grabbed her guns and barrelled into Linn’s office.
She caught Linn getting her guns and barricaded the door. “Linn. Get the fuck out of the window, get home. Don’t stop driving. Go. Now” Jamie urged, the sound of countless gunshots making tears well as they came closer. She could lose everything, everything in the world, but she couldn’t have Linn gone. “Go! Linn, fucking go!”
Linn shook her head, aiming at the door “Jamie. I’m not a fucking child, and you can’t do this alone. We can’t risk what we’ve got”
“I can’t risk you, Linn Pine, now go” Jamie begged, her voice hearse with stress as she looked desperately at her sister.
The gunshot didn’t register until Linn’s accompanied it.
Linn had managed to shoot the man who had opened the door only a few seconds late. Jamie fell to the ground, clutching her hip, then staggered up with the gun, running out into the hallway after Linn.
Her vision was blurry as she clasped the side of her head. It was so loud. So loud. Everything was so loud. She could see Linn running towards the assailants, and she wished she could see anything but.
“Jamie! Jamie, stay awake!” Linn hollered through her haze, not taking her eyes off the people in front of her.
Jamie wished she’d stayed awake.
The room she woke up in was hardly a room, but a ward. Her head was ringing and her hip fucking ached - she peeled back the light covers and winced. Oh, no. She was definitely in hospital, and she definitely didn’t need to be there.
“Let me in there - I am incredibly close to the patient now let me fucking in there!” Ah, Tommy. Definitely Tommy. That coarse Birmingham accent that could cool and light parts of her simultaneously.
Tommy. That fucker. Her offices had been attacked - where was Linn? Where the fuck was Linn? She was distracted by Tommy and left herself open for attack. It was the Peaky Blinders. Tommy had killed her sister.
Tommy was let through, and he walked towards her - no, ran. He sat by her side, taking off his cap “Jamie, how do you feel?”
“I don’t know, how many of your men did my sister manage to kill, Tommy? Did she get the one that got me?” Jamie exploded, glaring at him with an intensity that still burnt even though they’d tied her hair up painfully messily and she was in the ugliest hospital gown going.
“What? Jamie - it was Sabini. Linn killed them all. I would never do that to you! Jamie, fucks sake... “ Tommy sighed, chuckling weakly “I have sorted Sabini, though I assume you’ll pay him a visit soon enough. Had a feeling his life wasn’t mine to take”
“It wasn’t. Thank you, Tommy. Where is Linn? Is she safe? Why isn’t she here?” Jamie was frantic once again. Her baby was gone.
“Linn is at the office, with John and Finn. I asked her which one of my brothers she wanted to shadow her until you were back, just to keep you safe, and she chose Finn - they know eachother. I made John go along for extra safety. She’s okay, alright? It’s all okay. I’ve got you” Tommy told her softly, only letting the gentle part of himself out when he knew it was vital.
Jamie relaxed into the hospital bed slightly, looking over at him “Why are you doing this, Tommy? You could have easily ignored it.” She asked, her hand resting on the end of the bed, there for Tommy to take if he was brave enough.
“And let my only real competition fall because of someone inconsequential?” Tommy chuckled, his fingers brushing hers before he took the jump and actually held her hand “I was also wondering if you wanted to go for dinner again? Maybe you could come and see the horses?”
“I’d love to, Tommy. Has anyone said what actually happened? When can I get back to the offices? I need to up the security in there, it’s vital… fancy getting me out now? If they say no, we can just… go”
“You were shot in the hip, narrowly missing your vital organs. Any further right and you could have been dead, apparently. You’ve only been under for a day. You should stay, it’s going to be alright without you for a while” Tommy told her, running his thumb gently over her knuckles, noticing the flickery scars on her hands.
“Tommy, I’m going to escape this hospital and you’re going to get me out” Jamie told him, overpowering him easily.
“Jamie…” Tommy looked taken aback, something strange flashing behind his eyes and suddenly he was struggling not to comply. He did his best though, bless his heart.
“No. We’re going. Where’s my suit?” Jamie bit back, maintaining the dominance over the situation that she loved having.
“In the cupboard, as are your shoes” Tommy told her honestly, not understanding why he was so quick to submit.
“Right. You’re going to hand me my clothes. Then you’re going to stand out in the hallway, then I’m going to walk out, and I’m going to go under the alias of being your sister. Good? Good” Jamie ordered, letting her hair down and running a hand through it. She needed to get out, she needed a drink, and she needed, most importantly, to see her sister. Linn would be freaking out, and the world will have gone to chaos.
“I’ll see you outside then” Tommy told her, laying her suit on the end of her bed and setting the shoes next to them. He took a fleeting glance at her before walking out and closing the white door behind him.
Jamie nodded, waiting till he was gone before swinging her legs out of the bed carefully, a loud yelp escaping her as she turned on her injured hip. “Fuck” She muttered, biting her lip so hard that she drew blood. Hobbling round to the end of the bed, she took the undershirt in her hands, slowly undoing the gown and hissing slightly at the feel of biting cold air on her bare skin. She pulled it over her shoulders, buttoning it up slowly, regretting sending Tommy out. Getting trousers, socks and shoes on would be hard. He couldn’t see her naked though. That would be bad.
She put on the shirt and buttoned it, pulling on her waistcoat afterwards. So good so far, though if the waistcoat had been anywhere lower, it would have been a massive issue. Picking up the trousers, she realised that it could be more of a challenge than she originally expected.
After a few attempts, she sat on the bed in her underwear and full upper suit. Jamie pulled the blanket over her legs to hide their nudity, and called out.
“Tommy? You still there?” Jamie called, not too loud - she didn’t want to alert anyone but him. A nurse coming in would be the worst possible outcome.
“Yeah.” He replied, obviously only inches from the door.
“I can’t fucking bend.” She told him, exasperated. Jamie was stressed out, and seconds she was wasting here meant seconds that Linn was left alone.
“Your hip does have a hole in it” The brummie remarked sarcastically, leaning against the opposite side door, smirk eminent in his voice.
“Tommy, I can’t get my fucking trousers on” Jamie reminded him, frustrated and getting angry “Unless you can get your trousers on without bending, you should see why”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. What the fuck do I do?” She followed up, knowing there was one thing he was bound to suggest.
“Want me to help?” He asked, the doorknob twitching slightly as if he was turning it.
“Fucks sake” Jamie groaned, the moral dilemma too much for her morphined brain to handle.
“I’ll be seeing your legs either way” He reminded her, already having opened the door a crack to hear her better.
“Fucking fine.” She huffed, rolling her eyes. The only person except from Linn that she would allow to see her in her underwear with no sexual subcontext was Sams- “Wait, Tommy, where’s Samson?”
“Your assistant?” Tommy checked as he closed the door behind him, walking towards her.
“Th- Tommy, is he dead?” Jamie asked as she peeled back the covers from her legs, gratefully taking them from where he had gently slid them up her legs and zipping up the fly.
“He died.” Tommy confirmed, rolling her socks up halfway her calves, doing his very best to pay attention to her mournful emotions whilst just having slid her trousers all the way up her legs. He had just dressed the girl he had been trying to get into bed with since he met her, and his mind was blown.
“Fuck. He had kids - beautiful kids, and his wife… oh, my god. I’ve widowed someone, Tommy” Jamie came to the heart crushing realisation just as he was lacing up her left shoe. “Fuck.” She willed herself not to cry, but everything was so much, and the morphine was making her have less control over herself.
“Sabini killed him, alright? Sabini, and Sabini’s men. Not you. You were shot trying to save your sister, and she lived. She lived, and wasn’t injured.” Tommy told her, tying up her right shoe and standing up “You did well” He grabbed her jacket and draped it over her shoulders, holding the lapels, holding her close.
“Alright. Thank you, Tommy. Now, let’s go to the offices, yes? Did Linn say how much they took?” Jamie asked - now the heart had had it’s way, the head could take over. What brought her heart back was the realisation that they were close. So close. Fuck - how many cigarettes did that man smoke? He practically eminated the smell. His warm breath fanned the bottom of her nose, and she swore her breath hitched.
Then, like the cocky bastard he was, Tommy stood straight, offering out his arm as if nothing had happened “They didn’t take anything. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah” She muttered, rolling her eyes at his smirk. Jamie would say something if she wasn’t already hiding how flustered she was.
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monigheandonn1743 · 6 years
Text
Ceart-leth
Previous Chapters
Chapter 9
Jamie watched with an odd mixture of elation and bittersweet longing as she disappeared around the door with a swish of skirts and bouncing curls. He couldn’t deny, even to himself, that she was by far the most beautiful lass he’d ever laid eyes on, nor could he deny that he wanted her.
Lord God did he want her.
He’d known her for all of two days and known nothing of her, her life, or the time she’d belonged to, but for all the world, it felt like two lifetimes since he’d first seen her by the falls. He was in awe of her. She was stronger, braver, and more intelligent than most men he knew, yet while she hid it well, underneath it all she was as fragile as a soap bubble. His need to shelter and care for her had been irrefutable from the start, and he’d sworn himself as her protector, despite the pain it caused him to know that was all he would ever be.
All he could ever be.
He sighed, and scrubbed wearily at his face. The sooner they left Leoch behind the better. She would be safe at Lallybroch, out from under the watchful eyes of the Mackenzie’s, and given unto the care of his family. There he could distance himself from her, immerse himself in his duties, and get on with the life he’d long since chosen for himself.
“Fucking stupid bastard dress!” She suddenly growled from the next room, drawing Jamie from his thoughts, and his position still stood by the hallway door. Knowing he shouldn’t, yet not caring a wit, he rushed into her bedchamber and froze, choking on his laughter.
All he could see of her was the high curve of her torturous arse, and her wee feet peaking out from beneath her skirts. The rest of her was wedged under the bed and, from the looks of it, she was stuck.
“Stop laughing and help me!” She begged, her breathless voice tinged with her own laughter. “I can’t breath and I can’t get out because of this stupid…”
“Bastard dress. Aye, I heard ye the first time.” He chuckled as he crossed the room to stand behind her. “Why are ye under there in the first place?”
“Jamie!” She cried, “Stop talking and help before I asphyxiate.”
Temptation reared it’s ugly head, teasing him with the chance to touch her again. But no matter how much he longed to feel her body under his hands, he couldn’t risk it. Instead he bent and lifted the heavy wooden bed just enough for her to shimmy herself free. She crawled back and sat panting in a heap on the floor, her hair in a riot of curls, as she clutched her chest and glared up at him.
“Without meaning to offend your sensibilities, I’m telling you now, if you don’t help me out of this bloody corset, I’m cutting it off.” She hissed holding up a small pair of silver scissors.
His heart lurched in his chest, and he dropped the bed and took a step back.
Jesus God, she was trying to kill him. It was bad enough that she’d nestled against him, half naked, for two days straight. But she’d had the presence of the men to protect her then. Alone, as they were now in her bedchamber, he couldn’t even promise himself not to ravish her, he was teetering too close to the edge to see reason.
“Sassenach…”
“Don’t Sassenach me! I mean it, Jamie, I can’t breathe, I’m suffocating and I think I’ve cracked a rib.” Her pain was clear in her depths of her warm whiskey eyes, and combined with the slight tremble of her bottom lip, he broke and moved back towards her.
Aching bollocks be damned.
“Easy, lass.” He soothed, as he placed one large hand beneath her arm and gently guided her to her feet. “Tell me what ye need.”
“Please, just loosen it a bit so I can breathe? I can do rest myself later.” She whispered as she gazed up at him, pleadingly. In that moment, just like at the foot of Craig na Dun, he’d have done anything, if only she’d asked, no matter how wrong it was.
“Aye. Turn around.” He breathed, touching her shoulder and encouraging her to move. She did so, slowly turning her back to him, and pulling the stray curls out of his way.
“When your done, we can have a conversation about your propensity for lifting heavy items while injured.” She teased, looking at him over her shoulder. She raised one enticing eyebrow as she chastised him, and all his blood ran south.
“Ye’r a hard woman to please, Sassenach.” He groaned as he untied the bow at the waist of her dress. “Ordering me to help, then grouching at me for doin’ so.”
“Hardly. There was an easier way of getting me out of there that wouldn’t have included reopening your wound.”
“Aye.” He agreed then fell silent, unable to speak, as he parted her dress. The skin of her upper back was smooth, pale and just begging to be caressed, with his hands, lips and teeth. His whole body shuddered with the imagining of it, and his hands shook with restraint as he reached in for the laces of her stays.
There were so many reason he shouldn’t be doing this, and so many ways he wished to continue and undress her completely. She was delicate perfection and he longed to savour every inch of her. To spend days and weeks, years even, exploring the hills and valleys of her body. To make her his, mind, body and soul.
But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, and besides, she was in pain. Taking a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind and ease away his cock-stand, he began the arduous task of freeing her, as much as he was able.
He worked quickly, taking the stays out a good inch or so, while he mentally recited the Greek alphabet. It was doing the job of distracting him, until the last stitch was loosened, and she moaned softly with relief. He clenched his jaw and quickly backed away, least he grab her to him and do all the things his body craved.
“Better?” He asked needlessly, his voice hoarse and thick with desire.
“Much, thank you.” She breathed, turning around to smile up at him. “They’re going to take some getting used to.”
“Ye, dinna normally wear one?” He asked without thinking. The topic of conversation was almost as inappropriate as his presence in her room, and it was doing nothing to ease his need.
“No.” She smiled, squeezing his arm and then moving away. He wanted to drag her back, to hold her against him and bite those teasing lips, “Well some women still chose to, but not many. We have other means of…support now.” She blushed as she bent and retrieved her wee bag.
He’d been acutely aware of her lack of stays during their journey on horse back, and would have been blind not to notice that her breasts had been secured despite the lack of undergarments. But even through the thick layers of plaid, he could feel her ribs and had known they were bare.
“No the strangest thing ye’v told me.” He admitted, attempting to change the subject as he watched her gently wrap herself in his mothers plaid.
She sighed with pleasure at its homecoming, and his heart constricted. How she had come to own it he doubted he’d ever truly understand. But seeing the way she touched it so lovingly, and knowing that it would shelter her when he could not, filled him with warmth and sadness.
It was as though it had been made for her alone, that he was only its temporary minder until it made its way through time to its rightful owner.
“No, I don’t suppose it is.” She laughed, glancing over to him through her long, dark eyelashes. “Are you okay? Have you hurt yourself?” She frowned moving toward him, her delicate hand outstretched.
That she meant to touch his body, to check the site of the wound, was clear, but he reached for it, stopping her as he gently grasped it in his. He revealed in the feel of her skin, soft and cool as he unthinkingly brought it up to his lips and bestowed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
“Nay, lass. Just woolgathering.” He assured her, gently squeezing and releasing her hand. Her face was upturned, her eyes heavy and wanton with desire, her lips slightly parted and begging to be kissed.
It was the same looked she’d given him at the foot of Craig na Dun, the one that had nigh on unmanned him. But as much as he longed to give in and consume her lips with his, he stepped back and motioned to the sitting room door.
“Shall we?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” She blinked and turned hastily to leave the room. Guilt consumed him. Though unintentional, he was confusing her. His warring emotions, toying with hers. It would be best for both of them if he kept his distance, and as hard as that would be, he’d do it, for her if not for himself. But it was a task that would be so much easier if he wasn’t already falling in love with her.
You’re a damn fool Jamie Fraser!
He sighed and followed her into the sitting room. She was kneeling on the floor between the sofa and the fire place, and she glanced up at him fleetingly before patting the cushions in invitation.
“You don’t need to remove your shirt this time. Just untuck it and move any other clothing out of the way before you lie down.” She instructed, as she coated her hands with the strange alcohol. “While I work, you can tell me what you wanted to talk to me about.”
“Aye.” He nodded as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and pulled his shirt out of his kilt. “I thought ye should ken what I’d told Callum.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I realised as he was questioning me that I didn’t even know your fathers name, never mind how I might have come to treat him.”
“Brian.” Jamie answered as he sat on the sofa and turned to lie down. “Brian Robert David Campbell Fraser.”
“That’s a lot of names.” She laughed, rising on her knees and turning to face him. “Do you have so many?” His breath caught and he momentarily forgot how to speak as she placed a gentle hand flat on his stomach. She was holding his skin taunt as she pulled at the bandage that was stuck over his wound. It was cool to the touch, but it’s mere presence was like being struck by lightening, and he burned for her.
“Aye.” He croaked and cleared his throat, “James Alexander Malcom Mackenzie Fraser.”
“And your mother’s a Mackenzie? Sister to Dougal and Callum?” She guessed, as she pulled off the smaller strips and placed them on top of the bandages on the floor.
“She was. She died when I was a wee lad.”
She looked up at him, her eyes loaded with compassion and understanding, and smiled sadly.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “No matter how old you are, you never truly get over loosing a parent.”
“Ye’v the right of it there.” He agreed looking down at his stomach as she turned to fetch something from her bag. It truly was like magic. The wound that had been gaping open not two days ago, looked healed, though he knew it wasn’t. There was no angry red skin, no swelling or stitches. Just a clean line where his blood had once oozed.
“It’s looking good.” She told him, opening the wee packet that she’d said held an alcohol wipe. “But you’ve been lucky. Please try not to do any heavy lifting, the glue can only do so much.”
“I’ll try.” He smirked as she wiped the area with the cold cloth. She rolled her eyes and tore open one of the sticky bandages.
“So when was your dad last in London, and what did I treat him for?”
“About a half year ago. He claims he’s as healthy as a horse, but I ken his heart bothers him. Pains him sometimes I think.” She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him.
“Will you have a chance to see him soon? Or to write to him?” She asked her voice suddenly serious as her concerned eyes held his.
“Aye, I’v had word that he’ll arrive in three days time.”
“Good. I need to examine him. Hopefully it’s something and nothing, but you can never be too careful with the heart.” She explained as she covered the wound with the bandage and pulled his shirt down.
“I’ll make sure he comes to see ye.” He nodded as he stood to tuck in his shirt and rebutton his waistcoat, “Thank ye, Sassenach.”
“Your welcome.” He watched as she cleaned up the space, tossed the rubbish in the fire and coated her hands in alcohol again. She was quiet, working unthinkingly as she chewed on her bottom lip, deep in thought. “Who’s Jenny?” She asked hesitantly, refusing to look at him as she placed everything back in her bag and took out the wee camera.
“My sister.” He answered as he sat back on the sofa, regarding her carefully. Her head whipped around and he was almost undone by the look of relief on her face.
Ah, lass. It make no difference who Jenny is. She’s no the reason I’v to love ye from afar.
“So you’re to be an uncle?” She smiled, climbing to her feet and moving to sit beside him.
“Twice over. She’s marrit to my best friend Ian Murray. They already have a bairn, wee Jamie’s almost two now, and he’s the devil incarnate.” He laughed, picturing the small boy and his mischievous antics.
“Like his namesake?”
“Aye. I was a horrible child.”
“Is there just the two of you?” She asked, as she shifted and tucked her feet up beneath her on the sofa. It was a strange way to sit, but she seem comfortable, so he turned his body slightly towards her, relaxing himself.
“Now there is. We had an elder brother Willie. He died of small pox when he was twelve. Our wee brother Robert passed with me mam in childbed.” He explained, his heart constricting with the profound memories of loss.
Some more recent than others.
“I’m so sorry, Jamie.” She whispered, reaching out to squeeze his hand. He turned it, and closed his fingers around hers, taking comfort where he shouldn’t, but helpless to stop himself.
“The day we met, me and the men were on our way to Beaufort.” He diverted, moving onto a less painful conversation, but keeping her hand firmly in his, “So they ken well that I wasna journeying to meet with ye. Dougals men ken no such thing, an’ are happy to believe what I say. I told Callum we were to meet on the road to Inverness, but ye’d stopped to wash after ye’d lost the wheel. That’s when Randell accosted ye.”
“That’s simple enough. Is there anything else I need to know?” There was so much he wanted to tell her. He wanted to sit for hours and detail his life, explain the choices he’d made and the reasons they could never be more than this. If she asked him outright, he couldn’t lie to her, she’d find out soon enough regardless. But some were painful tales that, while not secret, he’d never spoken of, and wasn’t ready to do so now.
Others he kept to his breast for purely selfish reasons. She liked him for who he was, and he wasn’t ready for that to change. She’d treat him differently once she knew, and he wanted to savour his last few days of freedom.
“Nay, Sassenach. Not right now.”
“Okay. Well would you like to see some photographs? I promised to show you Frank after all.” She asked smiling over at him, and squeezing his hand again.
“Aye, I would.”
Her smile lit the whole room, and stilled his heart as she shuffled closer to him and brought her wee contraption to life.
“Okay, so while we have more time and privacy,” she winked. “I can tell you about this. It’s called an iPhone. In 1856 a man named Alexander Bell will invent the first telephone. It’s a device that’s connected by wires, that go from homes and stretch across the county on tall poles, to what’s called an exchange. It a place where people worked connecting the wires from one home to another.
“The purpose of it is for people that are miles away from each other to be able to speak. Sound travels down the wires and you can have a conversation with anyone, anywhere, at anytime.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but too stunned and lost for words he snapped it shuts again. Claire laughed and that simple sound made his heart tump painfully in his chest.
“Go on.” He managed to choke out, disbelievingly.
“I can show you a rudimentary example at some point.” She promised, fuelling his enthusiasm. “But on to this. Now it gets a bit more…unbelievable, but bare with me. Now the iPhone is what’s known as a mobile telephone. Rather than using wires, it transmits sound waves to…shit why did I start this?” She huffed a laugh, “Okay, we have what’s knows as satellites, up in space.” She sighed pointing up to the ceiling.
He looked up frowning and she shook her head, tugged on his hand, and all but dragged him to the window.
“Up there.” She explained, pointing to the stars. “I can tell you a hundred different things about space. How man has walked on the moon, how there are nine planets similar to earth that circle the sun, or how every star is actually a sun with its own planets circling it. But that’s not the point of this lesson.”
“Wait!” He gasped looking from her to the stars and back again, his mind a whirl of wonder and amazement. “Man has walked on the moon?”
“Yes. In 1969.”
“A dia!”
“Indeed, but the point is, we’ve sent hundreds if not thousands of satellites up there, that sit in earths orbit and are used for all kind of things.” She explained, pulling him back towards the couch. “One of them is to bounce sound waves. If I want to speak to someone…anywhere in the world…I put their individual telephone number into this,” She explained holding up the iPhone, “And we can talk, because of the satellites.”
“I dinna understand it a bit, Sassenach.” He laughed, shaking his head.
“Neither do I really. I know the basics of how it works obviously, but not the mechanics of it.” She shrugged as through she hadn’t just shifted his entire world. “So that’s what it was originally invented for. The photographs and music are just a couple of the added benefits if you like.”
“I still canna get my head around them either, lass.” He huffed making her laugh again, “But go on and show me.”
She smiled at him and moved closer still as she tapped at the glass and showed him the photograph of the two of them from Tuesday. He stared at it, still amazed by the wonder of it all, but as he reached out and touched it, the images changed and his hand snapped back.
“It’s okay. To work the phone you touch the screen. If you do it like you just did it will flick through each photograph. That’s the last one I took in 2018. It’s of Joe and Gail.” He looked with surprise at the images of her friend, but as he open his mouth to speak, her eyes widened and she clasped her hand over his mouth.
“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to.” She warned, slowly removing her hand. “Joe’s from a mixed heritage. His mums white and from Scotland and his dads black and from Jamaica. That’s normal in 2018. The slave trade was abolished in England in 1807 and for decades people from all nationalities have equal standing, as they should. The N word is strictly forbidden in my hearing range.”
“As ye say, Sassenach,” He laughed, licking his lips, “But before ye got ye dander up, I was goin’ to say that I couldna see his face clearly.”
“Oh.”
“Aye.”
Her lips twitched, but she huffed indignantly and moved onto another photograph.
“That’s me and Joe taken a few days ago.”
He took the iPhone from her and stared with awe at the photograph. She was sat in the grass beside her friend, her long hair tumbling down around her shoulders as she laughed with delight. Her beauty was captured perfectly and she looked so happy, happier than he’d seen her thus far.
But what really captured his attention was her legs. They were bare, from her wee feet up to her thighs, which were just covered with short pants. They were magnificent. Long and shapely, smooth and sun kissed. He should have been mortified at seeing them, but he could do naught but imagine them wrapped tightly around his waist.
His traitorous body reacted to the sight and he shifted restlessly on the chair.
“Where are ye skirts, Sassenach?” He asked, trying to swallow through his dry throat.
“Oh. I’m wearing shots, women don’t really wear longs skirts so much anymore.” She blushed leaning over him to quickly move onto the next image. She was close, too close, and he was all too aware of her proximity to his cock.
“That’s Frank.”
He blinked, realising he was looking at her and not the glass, and quickly cast his eyes down to the photograph. His jaw dropped and he moved the iPhone closer to his face.
“Jesus God.” He exclaimed as Claire pushed his hands back and used her fingers to make the image of Franks face larger. “He’s…”
“I know. I mean, I can see the differences now, but in the heat of the moment, you can see why I presumed Randell was him.”
“Aye, I can. I’v never seen the like.” They really could have been the same person, the differences were so subtle. But if you looked close enough, they were there. “Ye said the apple had no fallen far from the tree. He never…he didna ever hurt ye…”
“No. He watched and he made…unwanted advances, but he never hurt me.” She reassured him, through the thought of him watching her made Jamie’s blood boil in his veins.
They spent a while longer looking through the photographs as she spoke and he listened to her soft voice as she remembered moments and explained some more about her twenty first century life. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it must be for her. She’d left everything she knew and loved behind, and found herself alone in a strange land.
That she hadn’t wailed and taken to her bed was something to be admired. That she’d done the complete opposite, and embraced this new life, asked for guidance and promised compliance, had left Jamie well and truly in awe of her.
As she spoke, she’d moved closer and closer, and the moment she rested her head on his shoulder will be a moment he’d remember for the rest of his life. He shifted, and wrapped his arm around her, offering her what little comfort he could, and selfishly taking his own from her.
The photographs were all but forgotten, the iPhone discarded, as they sat talking and laughing softly, sharing memories of their childhoods. The dying fire was the only light in the room, and it created a cocoon of warmth and comfort, deepening their intimacy.
“Je suis prest.” She whispered, raising a hand and gently running her finger across the words on his broach. “I am ready. You’re clan motto?”
“Aye.” He whispered back, glancing down at her. She was looking up at him, nestled snuggly against his side. Her hair had tumbled down, too heavy for the pins to hold, and it framed her beautiful face in soft shiny waves.
He was almost overcome by the tenderness of the moment, and unthinking, he reached over and gently cupped her face. She sighed quietly as his thumb traced the soft pillow of her lips, and he licked his own, as though he could already taste her as her eyes implored him to kiss her.
“Claire.” He breathed, knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to stop himself, as he twisted his body around to hers. Her hand came up into his hair and he groaned softly and closed his eyes. “I shouldna, but God help me I want to kiss ye.”
“Then kiss me.”
He hesitated, his mind warring with his body, as he opened his eyes and looked down at her. He was lost, and with a quiet moan of defeat, he lifted her chin and gently captured her lips with his own.
Chapter 10
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Note
How long does Doc have to work on Jamie? Is the little mute boy going to be alright? How badly injured is he?
When Green gets called in to help Doc, Anti feels like his heart is glitching around inside his chest. Chase wakes up not long after and wanders in, dressed in what spare clothes Doc had lying around since his were so badly burned. His hat, however, seems to have survived unscathed.
He sees Anti fidgeting with his knife and goes to sit beside him. “You know, when Stacy was in the hospital with our second kid, there were some complications. They had to rush her into surgery, and I was so scared I was going to lose both her and the baby.” He leans his elbows on his knees and sighs, but it seems to draw Anti’s attention.
“And I was going nuts just waiting there, so instead of letting myself go crazy, I found this box of teabags left out for people in the waiting room and this mug. And I put the mug down on the other end of the room and tried tossing in the teabags.” Chase smirks. “That’s kinda how I got started doing my trick-shot videos, but that day, it kept me from going insane, you know?”
Anti smirks. “Yer really bad at it, though.”
“Meh,” Chase says with a shrug. “I’m average, but that was the point. I’m average, but it still felt good when I finally made it.”
Anti blinks. “You know, yer not really as stupid as I thought you were. No offense.”
“None taken?” Chase gives a confused grin. He glances nervously towards the operating room and sighs. Anti gets up and paces around, eventually going into the bathroom for a bit.
Ollie reaches over and pats Chase’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Chase looks up at Ollie and then to where Anti disappeared. “Oh, about that? Yeah, my kids like stories whenever they’re nervous, so I just thought…”
Oliver smiles. “Not just for that, for trying, too. I know it’s not easy with him, but he does appreciate it even if he doesn’t know how to show it.”
Chase adjusts his hat on his head with a nervous laugh. “Believe it or not, I’d much rather get along with Anti than make him want to kill us, you know?”
Oliver laughs a little, but he’s cut off when Doc steps into the waiting room. His eyes scan the room, and Jackie and Chase stand up. Doc raises a hand to stop them and looks at Oliver. “Where’s Anti?”
Jackie takes a few steps closer. “What happened with Jamie? Is he going to be okay?”
Doc swallows. “I’ve done all that I can. He just needs time.”
“Anti is in the bathroom,” Ollie says quietly. “I could go get him.”
“N-no, I want to talk to him if you don’t mind, Oliver,” Doc whispers, looking past Jackie. “Please, everyone, I just need a moment alone with him, and then we can talk about Jamie’s condition more thoroughly.”
Jackie looks like he wants to argue, but Chase grabs his arm to stop him. “Sure, Doc. Thanks for everything.”
Dr. Iplier nods to Chase and then goes to find his son.
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sleepyverstappens · 7 years
Text
Dancing Through Life (5/?)
Title: Dancing Through Life
Pairing: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Rating: M 
Warnings (New warnings in italics): Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Non-Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Panic Attack(s), Coming Out
Summary:  Two boys, stuck in a small village in the Yorkshire Dales, until they found their unlikely way out, through ballet and each other.
(Read on AO3)
(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4)
Chapter 5: Robert
Robert had just made soloist when Victoria first came to see him perform. Robert had gotten her orchestra tickets as a late birthday present. He had met up with her at the train station, not about to let a 15 year old roam the city alone. And after they had dropped off her bag at his place Robert had shown her around the city for a while, before he had had to leave for his ballet class that day. She had been excited to be in London, to finally see the city with her own eyes, so used to the small village she had grown up in. He had asked the front of house manager to keep an eye on her as she had waited for the performance to start in the foyer of the Royal Opera House, asking her to let him know she had gotten in alright. Afterwards she had come to his dressing room – which he now only shared with 2 other men, the perks of being a soloist- with a big grin on her face. She had gushed about the show, about the beautiful women on their pointe shoes, about the gorgeous costumes the dancers wore, but most of all she had gushed about his performance. It had felt incredible, incredible to finally have someone he loved dearly see him dance, to have someone there to support him.
---
It wasn’t long after he became a soloist that he started dating Anna. Anna with the strawberry blond hair and freckled cheeks; with her upturned nose and delicate hands that pushed strands of hair behind her ear. Anna with her bright smile and crinkly eyes, with her small frame and soft curves.
She was a soloist as well, had been for close to a year now, but only now that they were both soloists had they started to hang out more. And then they were paired up as partners for the next show the Royal Ballet would be performing. They had tried to keep it professional at first, but all too soon sparks had started to fly and the emotions behind the performance had started to become real. Hours spent in the rehearsal studio hadn’t stopped them from hanging out outside of ballet either. Lunch breaks were spent together in the coffee shop they both loved down the road. Overworked muscles were worked over even more back at one of their apartments. It had been a whirlwind from start to finish, but she was the first person he had ever really loved.
At some point she had pretty much become the fourth member of their household. Her clothes had made their way into his wardrobe little by little, a box of tampons and make-up mixed in with their shaving cream and hair gel, and her favourite brand of coffee sat next to the cheap stuff they usually bought. Daniel and Jamie had jokingly complained about having to live with a loved up couple at first, but after having one too many sleepless nights because of their love making they had started slipping more and more hints about available apartments into their conversations.
By that point Robert had actually already started to look at apartments for them, but that’s when it happened. Anna injured herself during a rehearsal and would not be able to perform for at least half a year. He had tried to support her through her recovery as best as he could, but seeing him leave for the theatre every night without her had made her jealous at first and then nasty as he had been promoted to principal. She hadn’t been able to deal with watching him dance during the dance classes where she could only sit and watch; hadn’t been able to stop herself from being jealous of Jess, the girl he now partnered with. She hadn’t even been able to muster up a smile to congratulate him on making principal. They had fought more and more.
“Why can’t you understand?!” Anna yelled at him.
“I can! I’ve tried to help you, tried to be there for you during all of this, but you won’t let me.”
“Because you get to escape to the theatre at the end of the day, when I’m stuck here trying to make my fucking leg work again.”
“I can’t help that I’m still able to dance Anna! I know it sucks to have to sit out and watch us dance, but I can’t magically fix your leg and you know it!”
“Are you sleeping with Jess,” she asked out of nowhere.
“What?!”
“I see how you look at her and you’ve been coming home late.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I look at her like I have to look at her to make the performance believable. And I’ve been coming home late, because I’m a principal now and believe it or not people want to meet the principal dancers after the show. I love you Anna, I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“I don’t believe you,” she sneered, her face twisted in disbelieve.
“You know what, I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with you being jealous of me because of something I can’t change. Can’t deal with you accusing me of doing something, no being something I’m not. I’m not a cheat okay, and if you can’t believe that then I don’t know… I guess this is over.”
And with that it had been over. The next morning her clothes were gone from his wardrobe, the box of tampons and make up gone from the bathroom cabinet and the cheap coffee now sat alone in the kitchen cabinet. All of a sudden a relationship that had lasted close to a year was over. It had been strange going into his dance class that day, she hadn’t been there that first day and not seeing her sit off to the side with her by now standard frown on her face was weird. But it had been even weirder when she was there the next day, the frown turned into an angry scowl every time their eyes met.
Eventually though things got back to normal, the daily routine of dance rehearsals and evening performances continued on. Vic had come down to London again when he had been a principal for about 2 months. She had been too busy with exams to come and see his first performance, but he hadn’t minded, just happy to have her there again. She stayed for the week, done with school and excited to spend a week in the city.
---
Life as a principal dancer was exciting, being up at the front of the stage, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Robert had always loved the attention, there was no denying it, but having the eyes of over 2000 people focussed on him each night was thrilling. The adrenaline coursing through his body each night was addicting and each night off, body grateful for the rest, he missed the applause at the end of the night.
After his break up with Anna he had wanted to focus all of his attention back on dancing, but the first time they had more than one day off from performing Daniel and Jamie had dragged him out into the city’s nightlife.
“Come on Robert, you can’t keep moping about,” Jamie laughed.
“I haven’t been moping,” he denied.
“You haven’t left the house for anything other than ballet,” Daniel joined in.
“Well, guess what that’s what life as a professional ballet dancer is. I’m principal now, I need to keep my head straight, focus on making each performance perfect.”
“Oh don’t give me that, we’ve got the next four days off, you can let your hair down for a bit. Come on, join us tonight.”
“Okay, so long as it’s not the gay place.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Oh what, cuz it’s gay?” Daniel said a teasing smile on his face.
“No, I just don’t see why they all have to hang out together.”
“What do you mean, they?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Come on, let’s just go out and we’ll see where the night leads us.”
“Fine,” Robert sighed, getting off from the couch, if they were going out he needed a shower.
---
Turns out the night did lead them to the gay place, the offer of half price cocktails apparently something they couldn’t pass up. Daniel and Jamie had pulled him onto the already packed dance floor as soon as they had downed their first drinks. It was fun, better than sitting still in the pubs they had gone to at first and the music was definitely better than the club they had left after just one drink.
“That guy’s been looking you over ever since we got here,” Daniel shouted into his ear after they had been on the dance floor for a while. He looked at the direction he was nodding at to see man with dark hair and quite an impressive beard staring at him.
“So?”
“Go on, live a little! You’re single again.”
“I’m straight.” Even though he had told them multiple times that he was straight they apparently still didn’t get the message. Daniel just shrugged, running off to the bar instead. Robert shook his head at his friends behaviour, but as he turned back around he noticed he was alone, Jamie now off dancing with some blond guy. He made to get himself another drink, but he was interrupted by a hand on his arm. He turned around and came face to face with the guy that had been looking at him earlier.
“Hi,” the guy shouted.
“Hi,” he shouted back, figuring that one dance couldn’t hurt.
---
His back hit the door of the bathroom stall, music drifting in louder each time the door opened making him aware of the fact that they weren’t alone, but hands were squeezing his arse and lips surrounded by a scratchy beard were pressed against his own. The guy – he still didn’t know his name-  pressed into him, the outline of his dick hard against his leg. Robert groaned as he shifted and their clothed cocks pressed together. The hands on his arse shifted to his crotch, one palm pressing into him as the other opened up his belt. And then a rough hand wrapped around him, squeezing him as a tongue lapped up his moans.
He was left panting as the guy’s lips detached from his and instead wrapped around his cock as the other man had let himself fall to his knees. He was silently grateful for the amount of alcohol running through his veins, because he knew he would’ve already come otherwise. He looked down at where the now red lips were sucking him down, wrapping his hands into the dark locks of hair with a groan. Coarse hair scratched at his thighs as he cock disappeared fully into the other man’s mouth, his hands tightening in the hair they were twisted in. He managed to gasp out a ‘close’ as the brunette sucked around him tightly before his nose pressed into his stomach again, not pulling off as his cum shot down his throat.
He slumped against the stall door, catching a glimpse of the tongue the other guy ran over his lips before standing up. He managed to pull his pants back up around his hips before his hands fumbled for the bloke’s belt. As his hand wrapped around the stranger’s cock panic began to rise in his chest. What was he doing?
“Yeah,” the guy sighed, breaking through his panic, “close.”
Before he knew it the guy was groaning out his release, cum shooting across his hand. He quickly pulled his hand from the bloke’s pants, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to clean his hand of, before he was fumbling with the lock on the door, mumbling out an apology as he ran from the bathroom.
Why did this keep happening? He could pretend everything was normal when the guy was sucking him off, not that different from getting sucked off by a girl. Oh who was he kidding, it was nothing like with a girl, the beard burn around his lips and thighs enough evidence of that. But once his hand was around his cock it had hit him, he was really getting off with a guy, and the panic had started to rise in his chest.
He broke through the quieter area of the toilets and looked around the dance floor for Daniel and Jamie. Once he found Daniel he clambered his way through dancing bodies. “Can we go?”
“Why?”
“Can we just go.”
“Okay, lemme grab Jamie.” He walked off in the opposite direction of the exit, where Robert desperately wanted to be, so he made his way over, grateful for the brisk air filtering though.
“Let’s go then.” Daniel said looking at him curiously.
“What about Jamie?”
“Oh, he was having too much fun with that blond dude,” Daniel laughed.
After that night he had tried to keep it from happening again, but the next time he joined his friends for a night out he once again ended up getting off with a stranger in a dirty bathroom stall. But the more he joined them on their nights out, the less the panic rose in his chest. He couldn’t deny that it felt good and with his dad now really gone it became easier and easier to shake off the angry looks that flashed through his mind. It was only ever quick hand jobs and blowjobs, and he only ever gave hand jobs not blowjobs. Not until his first boyfriend at least.
---
He met Christian when he was dancing in Paris. During his third year of dancing as a principal with the Royal Ballet the Paris Opera Ballet had contacted him, offering him an audition for their ballet. He had jumped at the opportunity, he had loved his time in London, but France was pretty much the birthplace of ballet. He hadn’t been able to believe that they had contacted him, impressed by his performance and abilities. He hadn’t really been nervous doing ballet in a while, but auditioning for the Paris ballet had brought back the old and familiar nerves. He hadn’t needed to be though as he had nailed his audition and was offered a contract as principal dancer for the Paris Opera Ballet soon after.
So after 6 years at the Royal Ballet, three of those as principal dancer, he had left to join the Paris Opera Ballet. It had been an adjustment, living in a new city after living in London for almost 14 years. But he had loved it, loved learning everything about a new city. He had loved wandering through Paris in his spare time, finding little hidden gems. He had struggled to get the hang of the language, ballet terms not all that useful in daily life, but his natural charm had helped him out a lot. It hadn’t taken him long to charm his way into the good graces of the petit lady in her late fifties that ran the café next to the theatre; he’d often found an extra cookie on the side of his coffee.
Dancing with a new company, working with so many new and talented people, had been scary but also exhilarating. A new city brought with it a new audience, their reactions to the performances ever so slightly different. But it had been great; he now had two theatres to call his home as well, one with an even bigger audience than the Royal Opera House.
It wasn’t until his third year in Paris however that he met Christian. A ballet dancer with the Danish Dance Theatre that had been touring in Paris for a few months. He had come to see one of their performances on one of his days off, as he knew Jesper one of the soloists who had performed with the Danish Dance Theatre before joining the Paris Opera Ballet. After the show Christian had come back stage to talk to Jesper and Jesper had introduced him to the rest of the company. There had been an immediate spark between them as Christian had complimented him on his performance, his bright blue eyes twinkling as he had shown of his pearly white teeth with a big smile. He had been tall, taller than Robert, body lean but muscled in all the right places and a mop of blond curls sat atop his head.
Christian had asked him if he wanted to join Jesper and him for drinks that night and he had willingly agreed. A couple of drinks later, after Jesper had complained about needing his sleep, they had stumbled their way into his apartment – for the first time solely his own place.
Christian had been the one to tick of the last few of his firsts with men. Not that first night, but any chance they got during the three months that the Danish company resided in Paris they had met up. He’s not sure if he really had been his boyfriend, but Christian had certainly been the first guy he had seen more than once, the first guy he had went on dates with, and the first guy had had full on sex with.
They had known it couldn’t last, both of them full time ballet dancers in companies from different countries. But they had made the most of those three months. Robert showing off Paris to him, taking him to his favourite café’s, bakeries and restaurants. Teaching him some of basic French he had learned over his three years in Paris, while Christian had tried to teach him some Danish.
Saying goodbye to him after the Danish ballet company’s stay in Paris had been over had been bittersweet, but they agreed to stay in contact and were still friends to this day.
His time in Paris had been great, 6 years of his life were spend in the city and he had loved all six of them, but now he was 31 and it was time to think further ahead. He knew his professional career would be over soon enough. He had been lucky to never have any major injuries, but he could feel his body starting to protest more and more, he knew had maybe 4, 5 years of professional dancing left tops. So it was time to go back, back to his old stomping grounds.  
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Peter Della Penna talks to Hong Kong captain, Babar Hayat
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Peter Della Penna talks to Hong Kong captain, Babar Hayat
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Peter Della PennaCricket
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Peter Della Penna is an American cricket journalist who also writes for ESPNcricinfo.com and DreamCricket.com. Since 2010, he has penned the USA entry in the Cricket Round the World section of the Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack. Follow Peter on Twitter @PeterDellaPenna
In Chinese culture, perhaps there are fewer symbols that are more well-known to outsiders than the yin and the yang. It represents the balance between opposite forces to keep things in harmony.
Babar Hayat, the 26-year-old Hong Kong captain, is an embodiment of such duelling dualities. “I’m a quiet person,” he says in matter-of-fact manner during a sit-down interview with ESPNcricinfo ahead of the World Cup Qualifiers in Zimbabwe.
That’s putting it mildly. Despite his imposing physical presence and reputation as one of the biggest hitters on the Associate scene, it takes some effort to coax words out of Hayat. Yet, his resume speaks for itself.
Leading scorer in the most recent edition of the ICC Intercontinental Cup. Three centuries in his first six first-class matches. Third overall in runs in the WCL Championship. Hitting 16 off the final over to beat Afghanistan in a T20I for the first time, at the 2015 World T20 Qualifier in Ireland, and sending Hong Kong to the World T20 in India.
Those are heady accomplishments for someone who never really had any ambition to become a professional cricketer, let alone captain his adopted homeland when he first arrived on Hong Kong shores as a 15-year-old. The transformation from a once timid boy to a quiet yet confident man – especially with a bat in hand – was made possible through hard work, grit and perseverance over the last 11 years.
“When I started playing cricket, nobody knew me. I didn’t have any fame,” Hayat says of the path that led him to where he is today. Growing up in Attock, Pakistan, he played tape-ball cricket regularly, but when his father, a banker who had been living on and off in Hong Kong for 45 years, took the family to the island for good, Hayat had never played with a seasoned leather ball.
Hayat didn’t know any English, or Cantonese either, when he found himself in Kowloon as a teenager. He was shy to begin with, and the language barrier made his transition to a new homeland more challenging. Enrolling at the Islamic Kasim Tuet Memorial College for his high school years in Hong Kong gave him a small buffer, allowing him to interact with students who might know Urdu, and also provided him a gateway into a whole new cricket community.
“It’s a culture within our dressing room where people tend to gravitate toward the best player, and that’s why we looked at Babar as being one of those characters”
Simon Cook, Hong Kong head coach
“It was the first or second week of school and he was playing tape-ball cricket,” Aizaz Khan, a former high school classmate of Hayat’s and long-time Hong Kong team-mate, says of their first interaction, just a few weeks after Hayat had arrived in Hong Kong.
“We had a big ground and I saw him smacking some big sixes. He looked very good and played some big shots and I was thinking whether I can get him to play in the Under-17 club team of ours since I was the captain.
“I spoke to his cousin, who was in the same school, and asked, ‘Can you get Babar to play for us?’ Babar was new and didn’t really know anybody there. The first game he went there, he scored 40-plus and hit some huge sixes. The coach got him to play in the Sunday senior league. Since then, Babar’s been scoring runs everywhere.”
Though he had only newly begun playing with a hard ball, it didn’t take long for Hayat to make his presence felt in Hong Kong’s domestic scene. In his second season playing in the Sunday premier division, he was named Player of the Year while representing Vagabonds CC. In demand, he was recruited to join the prestigious Kowloon CC for his third season, but Hayat says that despite the glamour, his still limited English language skills left him feeling uncomfortable in his surroundings, prompting a move to Little Sai Wan CC, where he got to work with former Hong Kong captain Munir Dar.
“They had a good structure while building up youngsters, Little Sai Wan,” Hayat says. “They always wanted young guys to come up, and gave chances. When we played club cricket in Hong Kong, we played four to five U-16 guys in the team in the high-standard premier league. When they grew up, after three or four years, they’d get better.”
Those opportunities as a teenager helped put him on the Hong Kong selection radar for junior teams. But he could not go to the 2010 U-19 World Cup in New Zealand – having migrating in 2007, he was just short of the required four years of residency to qualify for his new home. He did, however, make his senior team debut a year later as a 19-year-old, opening the batting while surrounded by 15,000 screaming Nepal fans at the 2011 Asian Cricket Council Twenty20 Cup in Kathmandu.
“That was my first tour and I was shocked when I saw all the people around,” Hayat says.
Babar Hayat poses with fans for photos while playing for Kowloon Cantons in a Hong Kong Blitz match Getty Images
“It was really tough for me to play for Hong Kong. Every time when I would go to bat, I was feeling nervous. You can say I was not a proper cricketer. They just sent me as a floater, and I’d open with Irfan Ahmed. That was not a great tour for me. I did not perform for my first three or four tours.”
Part of the lack of confidence was the way in which his raw skillset, honed by tennis-ball bashing, was exposed against higher-class bowling.
“When I first saw him in the national set-up, he was a player who could control a game but didn’t have the skills to do that, to bat for long periods of time,” says Simon Cook, Hong Kong head coach, who first came across Hayat on the club scene in his previous position as head coach at Hong Kong Cricket Club. “He didn’t have the technique.”
Though his defence in particular was unrefined, Hayat’s mental toughness began to emerge as a dependable trait. It first showed up at the 2013 World T20 Qualifier in the UAE during a knockout match against Papua New Guinea. Having lost a final-ball heartbreaker to Nepal in the previous playoff match, Hong Kong had a second crack at clinching a maiden berth at a major ICC global tournament a day later. However, they needed to do it without captain Jamie Atkinson, who was injured in the loss to Nepal. The task became even more difficult when they collapsed to 19 for 4 inside the first four overs after choosing to bat.
Hayat started to rebuild the innings, first with his Little Sai Wan club team-mate Dar in a 35-run stand. A match-defining 62-run partnership with future New Zealand international Mark Chapman followed, and Hayat’s 48 off 47 balls carried Hong Kong out of trouble and to an eventual 29-run win.
Two summers later, at the next World T20 qualifier, in Ireland, Hayat would conjure up an even greater escape against Afghanistan, a team they had not beaten in six previous attempts in T20 cricket. Though Hong Kong had plenty of wickets in hand, the run rate started to climb in the final overs of chasing a target of 162.
“I didn’t want to bat. My legs were gone, my hamstrings were tired, my body was sore. I didn’t want to play the next game because I was so tired”
Hayat on struggling with his fitness
“We controlled for quite a lot of the game and then suddenly it started to get a bit dicey,” said Cook, who was then an assistant coach on the Hong Kong staff. “He was batting in the middle order, and coming into the final over I was actually very confident. I said to Charlie Burke, who was head coach, ‘As long as Babar is still there when we’re facing the last over, we’ll still win this.'”
As was the case in Abu Dhabi, Chapman and Hayat steered Hong Kong through a big chunk of the chase against Afghanistan with a 48-run stand, but Chapman fell to a full toss on the first ball of the final over, bowled by Mohammad Nabi, leaving 16 off five balls to win. Hayat came on strike for the second ball and clubbed a four and six to make it six off three balls.
A wide and a three followed, putting Hayat’s fresh partner, Tanwir Afzal, on strike with two needed off two. A calamitous dropped return chance that ended in a run-out by Nabi allowed Hayat to get back on strike for the final ball, with his old high-school friend Aizaz at the non-striker’s end. Despite being known as Hong Kong’s biggest basher, Hayat instead showed maturity and clear-headed thinking given the situation.
“When I went in and spoke to him, he wasn’t nervous or feeling the pressure,” Aizaz said. “He just said he’s not gonna go for a big hit, that he’d hit it along the ground, get one first and try to get the second, and that’s what happened. Nabi tried to bowl a quicker one and Babar just played it to long-off, toward extra cover, enough so we could get the second run.”
Early in 2016, Hong Kong headed to the Asia Cup T20 Qualifier for some crucial preparation ahead of the World T20. Hayat produced the highest score by an Associate player in T20I cricket, making 122 off 60 balls against Oman in a match more infamously remembered for Chapman being mankaded at a key moment in a five-run loss for Hong Kong. However, those involved on the Hong Kong side felt the bigger culprit for the loss was ironically Hayat – his poor fitness, to be precise, in the heat and humidity of Fatullah.
Babar blasts off during the World Cup Qualifiers IDI/Getty Images
“I was totally gone,” Hayat said. “I didn’t want to bat. My legs were gone, my hamstrings were tired, my body was sore. I didn’t want to play the next game because I was so tired. I didn’t want to mention it to the coaches because they knew my fitness wasn’t good because I was cramping.”
“He ended up on the losing side because he was over 100 kilos in weight and he wasn’t able to sustain his innings over 20 overs,” Cook said. “At that point, [122] was the third highest T20I score in any nation. So he had a fantastic innings, but his physical condition ended up costing us the game effectively. And it was that innings that cost him from being able to perform in the World T20 because he was so physically exhausted still, three weeks after that innings.”
At the opening round of the World T20 in India, Hayat turned in scores of 9, 0 and 15 as Hong Kong went winless. The spillover fitness issues from the Asia Cup hundred against Oman opened his eyes, and prompted the coaching staff to sit him down for a frank discussion.
“It was after those two back-to-back tournaments that we sat down outlining plans for the next four-year cycle,” Cook said. “I sat down with Babar at that point in player reviews and said to him: your weight is an issue. That was the time we were just converting to full-time contracts. The skinfolds, yo-yo tests, 20-metre sprints – the players were starting to become more accountable. It was no longer such a club-cricket environment of pitch up, play and go home. We had quite a harsh conversation. He took it on board and really rose to the challenge.
“The combination of a full-time contract, working with the Hong Kong Institute of Sport and their dieticians – he went from just over 100 kilos to 89 or 88 kilos prior to the 2016 WCL round five against Ireland and Scotland.”
“Whenever we’d see Babar at the gym, we’d all want to work hard and get fit”
Team-mate Aizaz Khan
Aizaz witnessed first-hand the work that Hayat put into shedding the weight. Hayat would often recruit him and one or two others for late-night runs above and beyond the afternoon training routine for squad players.
“Those two or three months, whenever we’d see Babar at the gym, we’d all want to work hard and get fit,” Aizaz says.
As his waistline got slimmer, Hayat’s run-scoring column got fatter. Early in 2017, he made 173 against Netherlands in their Intercontinental Cup clash, then scored two half-centuries in the one-dayers that followed. At the end of the year, he batted the better part of two days to score an unbeaten 214 against PNG.
“Between where he was in 2014 to where he is now, there’s a number of differences. One, he’s technically much, much better,” Cook said. “In 2014, he wasn’t particularly fit. He couldn’t bat for 50 overs potentially. His physical condition is much better and his technical ability to bat for long periods of time has allowed his free-scoring intent to now flourish.
“He can keep all the good balls out and continues to score very freely off the balls that are into his strength areas. A key area of development going forward is just giving him the ability to bat for long and not feel like he has to try to take scoring options because it’s a matter of time before he gets out.”
The mental fortitude Hayat has demonstrated, whether at the crease in key moments during crunch games or in waging a weight-loss battle in the gym, is something he has worked hard at spreading to the rest of his team-mates. It’s a trait that helped them in a hard-fought win over Afghanistan in Zimbabwe, their first ODI victory over a Full Member.
If Hong Kong make it through to the Super Sixes, there will be an uphill battle: they will need three wins and some help on tiebreakers to reach the World Cup. An equally daunting challenge may await them in the consolation bracket should they end up there, needing to secure two wins to keep ODI status, and essentially the funding that will keep players like Hayat on full-time professional contracts. Whatever the challenge, the Hong Kong squad will look for Hayat’s bat to set the tone.
“What you see is what you get with Babar,” Cook said. “He’s not one to stand up and give big Churchillian speeches and all of that sort of stuff. He’s very much ‘lead by example’ and the guys do follow him. It’s a culture within our dressing room where people tend to gravitate toward the best player and that’s why we looked at Babar as being one of those characters. We did feel he had the potential to really become a dominant force in Associate cricket and fortunately that has come true.”
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