#whooo this is a long one. i just woke up too so my train of thought may seem a lil jumbled haha

[kirinaru]

Honestly I’d really like to have a game that focuses on the 7 year gap from Kristophs’ POV. After all, he was a lawyer too!

I want to see what kind of cases he worked on and how he handled them, seeing as we only really got a glimpse of it in AA4. Especially how his values shifted - did he always use forged evidence, or was Phoenix his breaking point? And speaking of only getting glimpses, I’d also like for it to focus on his and Klavier’s background more, because all we can do is speculate. For example - why did Kristoph want to be a defense attorney? Did both he and Klavier want to go into law at the same time, or did one of them come up with it first? Given how close they seemed to be, did their parents raise them or did Kristoph take on raising Klavier for one reason or another? Plus, one thing that’s weighed on my mind since I first finished AA4: how did Kristoph end up using Klavier as a pawn? What led up to that, how did he feel about it?

Another thing not properly fleshed out were Kristoph and Apollo’s interactions. Maybe we could see how Apollo came to be hired (coincidence or careful planning?), and what kind of mentor Kristoph really was to him. And also I think it’d be fun if he brought Apollo investigating with him. I know in AA4 Apollo objects at first to investigating when he and Trucy team up, but I’d like to think he just never got used to it. (Maybe like a mix of ‘isn’t this a detectives job?’ and not wanting to mess up in front of Kristoph.) Plus I’m fond of the idea that Apollo saw him as a kind of father figure, even if Kristoph was a little strict with him at times.

And what about Kristoph and Phoenix’s friendship? I’d really like to see more development of that. I refuse to believe Kristoph only called Phoenix ‘Mr. Wright’ for 7 years (though that could just be him being professional), and I also refuse to believe that they only went to the Borscht Bowl for those whole 7 years. I also think Apollo and Phoenix should recognize each other more, unless Phoenix never visited Gavin Law Offices in all that time. Then there’s also Phoenix’s skill as a lawyer, which I think Kristoph would acknowledge deep down, despite stating the contrary in 4-4. Perhaps in a case he finds himself needing Phoenix’s help? Not that he’d admit it, of course, but Phoenix is pretty damn perceptive. Over the proceedings he wears Kristoph down into accepting his help, then in the end Kristoph (begrudgingly) thanks him.

In the end, maybe, just maybe, we can see a bit of post-AA4 content, where Phoenix comes back and finally gets those black Psyche-Locks to break. Not by forcing them, but by actually working through each lock, finally wrapping up the loose ends in Kristoph’s backstory and finally having him speak honestly with Phoenix.

[written-rebellion]

Perfect Distractions

A/N: whooo I’m late posting by nearly an hour. I had my university grad party tonight and everyone JUST left so I’m posting this before I pass out LOL

I had this particular chapter planned out the minute I wrote Jamie and Claire arriving at Lallybroch for the first time, so this one’s a particular fave of mine. Hope you like it! <3

School’s starting up again, Jamie’s being verra dramatic about it, and as always, all the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think!

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Four: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Five: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Six: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eight: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Nine: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Part Nine: Empty | Chapter 4  

It was funny how quickly the body got used to things.

Two weeks ago, he woke up naked, pressed against Claire’s equally naked back, and very nearly shat himself.

Now he woke up next to Claire and very nearly shat himself, but she at least had a nightgown on.

Usually.

Slowly, he tightened his arms around her waist, pressing his chest into her back as she fluttered awake.

“Hmm?”

He rubbed his cheek into her shoulder blade, memorizing the feel of her soft skin against his early morning stubble and that perfect mingling of scents: Lallybroch and Claire, home by every definition.

“I can feel you frowning,” she said, trying to turn around in his arms. He held her where she was, hiding his face in her neck instead.

“When we get back to campus, mo chridhe,” he mumbled into her skin, “I willna be able to hold ye like this.”

“What?”

He let her snap around, making no attempt now to hide the lines of bleak acceptance on his face.

“What are you talking about?” Her hand reached across to cup his cheek and he closed his eyes, smiling faintly at her touch.

“As I recall—” He fought against the downward tug at the corners of his mouth, but lost as she withdrew her hand. “—ye have quite the nosey dorm-mate.”

“…and you have a roommate.” Realization flooded her glass face and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Aye,” he said, squeezing her waist.

“Well—we managed before, didn’t we?” she offered, but Jamie scoffed.

“If ye think I can go back to how it was before, mo nighean donn—” He pressed their bodies not-so-subtly together. “—then ye must really not know me at all.”

Now she was chuckling softly, running a feather light hand through his hair, tracing the shell of his ear. He wanted to melt into the mattress and pull her with him, trap them both in this moment with fingers entwined and soft morning smiles frozen in time.

“We’ll figure something out,” she sighed, tucking her head under his chin and slowly wrapping her own hands around him as if drawn by the same supposed finality curdling in his wame.

“Aye, lass.” He kissed the crown of her head, then snuggled his cheek into her hair. “We will.”

Tomorrow they’d pack up their bags. Make the bed, ruin it, and make it up again. Kiss Jenny on the cheek, wee Jamie on the head, embrace Ian and Murtagh, and ruffle up Fergus’ hair.

Tomorrow they’d leave Lallybroch, arrive at school by evening time, and head back to textbooks and roommates and classes the next morning.

Today though, for possibly but hopefully not the last time in a long while, they held each other and let the world turn without them.

---

Like winter had frozen everything in place, Claire found the front yard of her dormitory unchanged, save for the flood of memories that accompanied the last time she was here.

She turned around, running right into Jamie’s chest with a laugh as she wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him.

His eyes were distant, the deep blue lacking that trademark glint. He’d been just a touch melancholic since yesterday morning. Hell, so had she. Lallybroch, as promised, had quickly become a home for her heart, if only because it was an extension of Jamie. Unconsciously, she rubbed her cheek against the soft tartan scarf Jenny and Ian had given her for Christmas.

Jamie, belatedly, wrapped his own arms around her and chuckled.

“Aye, I remember, mo graidgh,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I love ye too.”

“Well,” she said after a time, “here we are.”

“Aye.” Defeated.

She frowned too now, snuggling her head into the curve of his neck. Jamie hugged her tightly to him for a moment, and then pulled back with a sharp inhale.

“I’ll buy ye breakfast in the morning, mo chridhe,” he said. “And ye dinna even have to run for it.”

“Ha bloody ha.” She looked up and, for once, found no brilliant Fraser grin reflected back at her as their lips pressed together.

“Good night, Jamie.”

“Aye, good night mo nighean donn.” He tucked a curl behind her ear, then took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, heart quietly shattering when he stood upright and smiled softly at her.

“Sweet dreams, Sassenach…” he said before finally turning to take his leave.

Claire watched him go, willing the winter wind to freeze the whole yard and shelter them from the flow of time.

Five hours later, however, she was glaring at her ceiling, wanting nothing more than sweet dreams. Or any dreams, really.

Or just sleep in general.

“Really, Beauchamp,” she grumbled aloud. “You’re acting like a child without her blanket.”

How many nights in twenty-some years had she slept blissfully alone? How could one two-week reprieve systematically destroy two decades worth of easy dreams, let alone the very real exhaustion pulsing in her bones?

She pulled her blankets up to her nose and tried – for the ninth bloody time – to snuggle into her lumpy mattress. But as she turned her head and tried to force herself to sleep through sheer will alone, she couldn’t help but feel like her pillow was suddenly too large.

Like it was meant to be accommodating more than just her, no matter how wild her curls got.

Like it was somehow emptier.

There was a faint whistling noise coming from the window, letting in the smallest of drafts, and that was just enough to pin all of her frustration on.

“Fucking dorm windows. What is all my bloody tuition going to anyway?”

She sat up to direct her anger at the offending glass and frame, but instead felt her heart stutter.

It wasn’t open.

There really was a crack.

She could almost hear him yelling for her, just like he had two weeks ago before—

Before everything.

She shook her head, reaching for her phone and letting out an ungodly groan as she read the time.

2:54 a.m.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Chr—

Her phone pinged, a message notification suddenly blurring the photo of Jamie asleep on her shoulder from the train.

>          What the hell was that? Ye’re not having fun in there without me, are ye?

Claire’s brows drew together.

>          What are you talking about?

>          That was YOU who groaned just now, no? Or have I got the wrong room?

>          What???

>          Could ye come to the door, mnd? I dinna want to be standing out here all night.

She sprung from her blankets and rushed over. There, taking up all the space in her doorway, was her 6-foot Scot standing nonchalantly in the hall.

“What are y—?!”

He pressed a finger to his lips, holding his phone up in the other hand and nodding to her.

She nodded back dumbly, about to type what she was saying when—

>          Can I come in?

She grabbed his sleeve and yanked him into the room, poking her head into the hallway to make sure no one was lurking around.

Satisfied, she closed the door and turned back around to face him.

And was immediately crushed to his chest in a tight hug. A sigh shuddered out of both of them.

“How pathetic are we, lass?” he said in a half-laugh.

“Couldn’t even last a night without me, huh?”

He pulled back to cast an eye down at her.

“Oh, like ye werena just looking at yer phone at 3 a.m. before I texted ye.”

She kissed him to shut him up and was rewarded with that brilliant patented Fraser grin that made her body feel so full of air, she physically rose to her tiptoes as if she would drift up to the ceiling.

“I tried, aye? But the bed felt… wrong. I went for a walk so I wouldna bother John, then I—I sort of…”

“Ended up here?”

“Found myself walking home, mo graidgh.”

She was at once thankful for the darkness in the room hiding the touch of pink on her cheeks. Just in case though, she buried her face into his chest, taking in his scent like it hadn’t only been mere hours since they last saw each other.

“Let’s go to bed, Jamie,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“To bed?” he asked, punctuating the question with a slow kiss that had Claire’s bare toes curling under her. “Or to sleep, mo chridhe?”

She hummed, but pressed her palms into his chest.

“My 11 a.m. tutorial says to sleep.”

“Verra well, a nighean.” He laughed, kissing her crown as he stepped out of her arms and plopped onto the bed.

She watched him settle himself into the pillows, filling the empty bed space as he patted and squirmed around in the mattress like a dog assessing its new bed. She was giggling the whole time.

By the time he was finished, his back was pressed against the wall, the blankets barely covering him, and his feet just poking out off the mattress.

“Are ye laughing at me?”

“Obviously.”

He made a derisive Scottish noise that completely contradicted the smile on his face.

“Come to bed, mo graidgh,” he said, stretching his arm out to her. “There’s a draft from the window, I’ll warm ye.”

“That’s from the crack you made,” she said in a yawn, practically floating towards the bed.

It took three seconds to slide in and mould her body to his.

Two seconds to kiss him goodnight properly, and snuggle her head into his neck.

One second to fall fully and deeply asleep and in love in his arms.

[End of Part Nine]

Read Part 10