It was two days before Christmas break, only a few days left until Claire would find freedom for the next ten days and, most of all--the comfort of Jamie’s arms. Claire was sitting in her school nurse’s office, inhaling deeply during the first quiet moments she’d had all week. There was an uptick of student visits in the past couple weeks--a few were legitimate concerns tied to cold and flu season: students whose parents sent them to school when they weren’t quite well enough, overachievers who wanted to maintain their perfect attendance dragging themselves to school despite their bodies protestations. Most of her patients however, were suffering from something much more insidious: the eagerness to start their winter break early by skipping their classes. This time of year the air of the school felt different, students and teachers alike were burnt out, apathetic, and ready for a break. This attitude in the students fed into the teachers’ attitudes--overworked with the end of the marking period, trying to squeeze in Christmas shopping and decorating between grading. Claire did not envy Jo nor any of the other teachers during this time, but their exhaustion was so palpable in the air of the school that she was starting to feel it too. By tomorrow, most teachers would be shutting their doors and playing a holiday film, giving up on instruction all together--hopefully that would make for a quiet day for Claire. Really, if she could just get through the rest of the day it would be smooth sailing until Christmas--until Jamie.

           Her silent musings were broken by the blaring sound of her office phone. She was expecting a teacher, calling to send a student down, but instead it was the school clerk, Glenda. “Hi Nurse Beauchamp, we have an outside call for you, it seems like it may be a personal call so if there’s any students with you we can send someone down to watch them if you’d like to take it privately here in the office.”

           Claire's heart sank to her stomach. What could it be? She took a deep breath and swallowed to brace herself before replying “last student just left.”

           “Alright, I’ll transfer you now.” The click of the call transferring sounded through the phone.

           “Hello, this is Miss Beauchamp”

           “Hello Miss Beauchamp, I’m Tammy, a nurse at Mass General we’re calling because you’re listed as the emergency contact for Quentin Beauchamp” a nasally voice croaked through the phone speaker--the voice was impersonal like that of a cashier saying “have a nice day” for the thousandth time, not fitting of a potential harbinger of death.

           “Yes…” Claire replied, nervously, questioningly.

           “Mr. Lambert was admitted this morning after showing signs of cognitive distress. An initial cat scan shows a mass on his brain. He’s currently undergoing testing to see if it’s cancerous.”

           Claire’s lungs felt like they were about to collapse. Lamb had been diagnosed with prostate cancer several years ago, but had been able to live with it through treatment. Claire also knew that cancer was insidious and could spread throughout the body rapidly and without warning. She knew it was very likely that the mass was cancer. She tried to find her medical professional voice, but a diagnosis was different when it was someone you loved. Instead, she croaked out, “when will you know?”

           “We should have the results by tomorrow. He’ll stay here overnight for monitoring and we’ll decide whether to admit him long term from there.”

           “I’m on Long Island, should I drive up?”

           “I’m afraid it’s too soon to tell, it could be nothing, but--” Claire cut her off, knowing exactly how bad it could be.

           “I understand. I’ll drive up this evening.”

           “Alright, he should be back in his room by then, he’s out getting his tests done now. It’s room 713 when you get here.” Claire wrote the number on a bright blue sticky note on her desk as the nurse spoke. “Have a nice day Ms. Beauchamp”

           “Hmm” was all she could reply, as if she could possibly have a nice day. She hung up the phone, and finally let the deluge of tears she’d been holding back free.

She allowed herself to cry for a few minutes to get it out, but she knew she had to get to Boston as soon as possible. She picked up the phone again and dialed the main office.

“Hi Glenda, it’s Claire. I need to take the rest of the day off--I have to go to Boston, my uncle…” she couldn’t say it out loud for fear of unleashing the tears again “Is Principal Gowan there, I need to let him know.”

“Oh Nurse Beauchamp, I’m so sorry to hear that, let me know if you need anything. Mr. Gowan’s in his office, I’ll transfer you to him now, if he doesn’t answer just pack up your things and go, I’ll take care of it”

“Thanks Glenda, I really appreciate it”

----------

           After getting the ok from her kind and understanding principal, Claire rushed back to Jamie’s apartment, hastily packed a bag (likely forgetting several things), informed Jenny where she was going--which was met with sympathy and genuine concern--and hopped back in the car for the journey to Boston. She entered the hospital doors several hours later, the buttons of her coat were tangled in her hair as she rushed, breathless, to the front desk to receive her visitor’s pass.

           When she arrived at Lamb’s room, he was asleep. She didn’t want to wake him, but she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze to let him know she was there before settling into the armchair beside him to await his awakening. He looked so frail and small in the hospital bed, not at all like the strong, spirited man who had raised her. He had left the television on--some sports channel was playing a highlight reel of various golfing moments. No wonder Lamb fell asleep. Claire was staring at the screen, but her thoughts were elsewhere: worried about Lamb, wondering if she’d remember everything when she hastily packed, wondering what the future held. Would she have to spend Christmas in this hospital room? A golf ball soared across the Scottish Highlands on the screen. Jamie. Jamie was coming home Christmas Eve, she was supposed to pick him up from the airport, supposed to spend her holiday break with him, experience her first Hogmanay with the Murray family, be surrounded by love and laughter and family. Lamb was supposed to be fine, he was supposed to take the train down, spend Christmas with them. Every plan they had made was shattered into a million pieces. Would she even be able to see Jamie? She thought about the presents she’d bought for him, not yet wrapped, piled in the closet but definitely not hidden, especially considering it was his apartment. Of course he’d understand--she could tell him where they were, but the magic of unwrapping would be lost, it would feel entirely unsentimental. It was bad enough that she felt her gifts weren’t sentimental enough--what could she possibly get him to show how special he was to her? How could she communicate that with an object? If she were a painter she would paint him a painting, if she were a songwriter she would write him a song, but she was simply Claire, and practical gifts were all she knew. She had purchased a cozy blue sweater to match his eyes and keep him warm in the brisk London winters, a cool multi-tool the size of a credit card that would fit in his wallet and help him solve a variety of problems, a protective case for his phone, and a box of artisanal beef jerky.  She had also procured a complicated piece of lingerie with a big red bow across the chest for him to unwrap the night of Christmas, which she knew he would enjoy. Everything was thoughtful enough and mostly practical, but she longed to be able to give him something truly special--a grand gesture to match her feelings for him. Claire glanced back at her uncle and immediately felt guilty being so selfish. I hate to make this all about me. Lamb always had a knack for helping her realize what was important when life’s situations overwhelmed her. She needed him for perspective, but how could she talk to him about this? How could she tell him how she felt? She knew it was wrong, but she was mad at him for getting sick so close to Christmas. Who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there’s no you? The tears were welling up in her eyes as she watched her most beloved uncle sleep--hooked up to machines, pale and listless in the hospital bed.

           Claire slipped into the adjoining bathroom to try to compose herself--she didn’t want her uncle to wake up and see her upset, she knew he would try to comfort her, to be the rock he always had been for her. She was here to be his rock this time, she needed to stay strong for him. She looked at herself in the mirror, telling herself it was going to be ok--her uncle was strong and he’d been fighting a long time--he’d continue to fight. Soon you’ll get better. She had to convince herself it was true, pretend it wasn’t real, it wasn’t so bad. She knew it was a delusion, she could see it all over her glass face when she looked in the mirror. She was genuinely afraid that this could be when she lost him, if not physically right away, he could be lost mentally. She’d been hoping for years he would get better, but now it seemed he’d taken a turn for the worse. She took a few deep breaths and offered up a prayer. She wasn’t usually religious, but they say desperate people find faith, so she decided it was time to try. God? Jesus? Whoever is up there. I know I don’t much deserve anything from you, I’m not sure I’m exactly on good terms with you, but I’m inclined to believe you care and you are good. Besides, I’m not really asking anything for myself, not really. I just pray my Uncle is ok, I pray he gets better. He has to. Please don’t take his brilliant mind away from him. Please let him be ok. Please, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him. Just please, please, don’t take him away from me. I need him. Please let him get better. Please let him get better. Claire continued to repeat the words like a mantra as she returned to her bedside chair. She stared at the collection of orange bottles on the tray table. Please let them help him get better. Please let him get better. Please, please, please let him get better.

           Claire had no idea how long she sat there, repeating those words to herself, but her silent appeal was interrupted when a nurse entered the room to check her uncle’s vitals.

           “Hi, I’m Brenda, I’ll be the nurse on duty tonight.” Brenda erased a name on a small whiteboard in front of the room and replaced it with her own.

           “I’m Claire, I’m his niece.”

           Brenda had made her way over to the other side of the bed and was checking the monitors beside the bed, making notes on the chart in her hand. “I hate waking them up, but I’m going to have to.” Claire was glad that she was much kinder than the nurse she had spoken with on the phone earlier—had that really been earlier? It seemed much longer since that phone call. “Excuse me, Quentin? Sir?” Brenda gently nudged his arm to awaken him. Lamb’s eyes fluttered open and he looked disoriented, Claire watched him carefully hoping that his disorientation was solely from being awoken mid-sleep and not from any neurological damage.

           “Hi Uncle Lamb” Claire stammered, hoping she sounded cheerful anyway.

           “Claire! My girl! You came all the way to see your old uncle!”

           “Of course I did! How are you?” she replied warmly.

           “Oh, I’m fine, they’re taking good care of me here.” Lamb’s voice sounded genuinely content and Claire felt comforted for the first time since the hospital had called her earlier that day.

           “Hello sir, my name’s Brenda, I’ll be your nurse tonight. I just need to ask you a few questions and check your vitals.”

           “What is your name?”

           “Quentin Lambert Beauchamp”

           “Good. When is your birthday?

           “March 23th, 1939”

           “Good, and who is the president?”

           “Well, unfortunately…” both Claire and Brenda giggled at how Lamb began his sentence. Claire was well aware of Lamb’s opinions of the current president of the United States, and was glad to see he hadn’t lost his sly sense of humor or his disdain for the man.  She was also glad he knew who the president was, hopefully his mental capacities were more promising than the worst-case-scenario her mind was conjuring.

----------

           Claire stayed by her uncle’s side for the rest of the night, only leaving the room twice, once to find something to eat from a vending machine, and once for her nightly call to Jamie. She allowed herself to break down when talking to Jamie, sobbing over the phone. Jamie did his best to comfort her through the speaker, desperately wishing he could be there for her in person. Claire wished the same, longing to curl up in his strong embrace, and bury her swollen face in his chest. She couldn’t bring up the fact that she might have to spend Christmas in Boston. She was enough of a mess without facing the reality that they wouldn’t see each other, and when Jamie promised they’d see each other soon at the end of their call, Claire hung up quickly as another wave of emotion overtook her and she buried her face in her hands to cry some more.

           The next morning, the doctor came in with Lamb’s results. Claire grasped Lamb’s hand, unsure of who was holding onto whom for comfort as the doctor explained that the mass on Lamb’s brain was in fact cancerous, but it was still relatively small and had been caught early. He explained that they could operate on it and remove it, however there was no guarantee that it wouldn’t come back or that they’d be able to get it all out. It was moments like these where Claire desperately wished she was already a surgeon, that she could feel in control of the outcome--though could she operate on her own uncle? Would she be able to hold her hand steady enough to do a good job? No, perhaps it was best left to the veteran surgeons in Boston.

           After discussing all the details and options with the doctor’s, Lamb decided to go through with the surgery. It was scheduled for the day after Christmas and Claire resigned herself to the sobering fact that she’d be spending the holidays in the hospital. As the florescent hospital lights lit the room with an unnatural glow, Claire couldn’t tell him she was scared. She had to stay strong, she had to keep it together and remain positive and supportive.

           ----------

           Claire spent the next few days devoted to her uncle, rarely leaving his bedside. Lamb had forced her to spend the nights at his apartment, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t sleeping well to begin with and the recliner at the hospital was only making matters worse. Claire was present and doting on him from morning to night though, helping her uncle order his meals, assisting him when he needed to use the restroom, adding and removing pillows and blankets as needed, or anything else he needed or wanted. Lamb had been moved to the cancer floor, and the window of his new room had a nice view of the Boston skyline. Lamb was making the best of a bad deal, he bragged about his ‘luxury accommodations’, he cracked jokes often, he liked the nicer nurses, he ordered extra dessert with all his meals and was in generally pleasant spirits. Claire could see the cracks in his cognition though. Sometimes he would change the topic he was discussing mid-sentence, and he couldn’t seem to keep time straight. Whenever anyone would mention Christmas, he would act surprised to know that it was coming up, and at one point he hinted at Claire that she might just get those roller skates she wanted for Christmas, a gift she had not asked for since she was eleven years old. He didn’t seem to know what year it was or how old Claire was. He did know who Claire was though, and for that she was thankful. He also knew who the president was whenever the nurses asked, always beginning his answer with a short preamble to make known his disdain.

Before they knew it, it was Christmas Eve and Claire couldn’t hide the sadness she felt on her face. She was glad to spend the evening with Lamb, but she had been looking forward to her first big family Christmas. She had filled in Jamie about Lamb’s condition and her subsequent stay in Boston over the course of their phone calls that week. She had also describe the Christmas gifts she had purchased for the Murrays, Jo, and Lamb, so Jamie would know the rest were for him. Jamie had agreed to put the Murrays gifts in gift bags and distribute them for her. They were meant to exchange family gifts that evening, the morning being reserved for Santa, and Claire was heartbroken to be missing out. In a matter of hours, and for the first time in two months, her and Jamie would be on the same continent, yet they wouldn’t be able to see each other. There was no way Claire could get into the Christmas spirit under these conditions. The hospital, despite being modestly decorated, was not the most festive atmosphere. Even a troop of Girl Scouts caroling their way through the hospital halls did nothing to assuage the weight of losing everything Claire had been looking forward to for the past two months.

           “What’s a matter, my dear?” Lamb asked, showing genuine concern for his niece.

           “It’s nothing, I’m fine, I promise, I’m just wishing things were different today.”

           “Why today? Is it something special? I can’t seem to remember.”

           “It’s Christmas Eve. You were supposed to come to Long Island and meet Jamie. We were going to spend the holiday with his family.”

           “Yes, I remember, that’s today? Oh dear, I haven’t gotten your gift yet I’m afraid.”

           “That’s fine, Lamb, I’m afraid I left your gift at home, so we’ll have to do that part later. We can take a raincheck on gift exchanging. I was just really looking forward to you getting to know Jamie.”

           “I’m sure I’ll meet the lad soon; he seems really special to you.”

           “He is; I know you’ll like him.”

           “I already do.” He patted the top of her hand and turned his attention back to the sitcom on the television, providing humorous commentary to try to cheer Claire up.

----------

It was late Christmas morning. Uncle Lamb was napping again and Claire had switched the television to the Hallmark Channel--usually her guilty pleasure this season, today it was simply reminding her of how her Christmas was proving to be less than magical. For her there would be no Christmas kisses, no magical snowfall, no saving the small town family business or learning to love Christmas again. All that awaited her this Christmas were fluorescent lights, beeping monitors, and nurses visiting every 6 hours to check her uncle’s vitals. This Christmas would be decidedly the most un-magical she had ever experienced. She had had her share of unconventional Christmases in the past, in fact, she never really was a Christmas person, but it had started to feel special to her when she was living in New York. This Christmas though--this was one she was looking forward to more than ever before. Claire spent most of the morning crying, grieving over all she was missing. She should have spent the morning curled up in Jamie’s arms, watching the children open presents. She could picture the Murray’s living room, trashed with colorful wrapping paper from end to end, each child in their own private world fascinated by their latest favorite toy, Jenny and Ian beaming through tired eyes.

Claire was surprised Jamie hadn’t called her to fill her in on the details yet. He had called yesterday when his plane arrived--groggy and jet-lagged, his communication skills were not the most eloquent, but he tried his best to make her feel better. She hadn’t heard from him at all this morning though, not even a Merry Christmas text. Surely the jet lag would have woken him up as early as the children, and they must have been done opening presents by now. Claire tried to rationalize that Jamie was just spending time with his family, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt and ignored. She thought she was important enough to him that he could take a moment away from his family to at least text her, or to find some way to make her feel included from afar. Had his feelings changed in their months apart? Did coming home to a messy apartment turn him off? Did she find his Christmas gifts and come to think she didn’t care enough to get him something more thoughtful? She thought about calling him, but a mixture of pride and fear kept her from acting first, not to mention she couldn’t stop crying over these sappy Christmas movies.

Suddenly, a voice from the doorway rang through the room, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!” Claire looked up in confusion, momentarily unable to comprehend her surroundings and the disruption that had just entered them. Santa? No. The tall figure filling the door frame was dressed like Santa, beard and all, but the unmistakable Scottish burr gave away his true identity. If Claire hadn’t already been crying, she certainly was now. Jamie was standing in the doorway, dressed in a Santa suit, carrying a large, blue IKEA bag overflowing with wrapped presents and what appeared to be Christmas decorations.

“What?” Claire could hardly believe he was there, she rose from the chair and the couple met in the middle of the room for a hearty embrace. Claire buried her face in the soft, fluffy suit covering Jamie’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Perhaps the setting wasn’t a snow covered street in a small town, but this was her own Hallmark movie moment--and to be honest, those Hallmark guys had nothing on James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. Jamie held her close, and tight, planting kisses in her curls and whispering softly to her.

“I’m here, mo nighean donn.” He caressed her shoulders with his thumbs, not releasing his embrace in the slightest, breathing in her scent, trying to absorb her fears and pain.

All of the commotion had awoken Uncle Lamb and after witnessing the couples’ embrace for longer than was comfortable, Lamb loudly cleared his throat to remind them of his presence in the room.

“Uncle Lamb!” Claire unfolded herself from Jamie’s embrace, keeping one arm around his back. Jamie sheepishly pulled the fake beard down around his neck to reveal his face and removed his Santa hat, clutching it tightly in the palm that wasn’t holding Claire. “This is Jamie, my Jamie. Jamie, this is my Uncle Lamb.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad it’s not Santa Claus, or we’d have a lot of explaining to do to the lad!” Lamb chuckled back.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, sir.” Jamie reluctantly released Claire from his grasp to step beside the bed, extending a firm but gentle hand to Lamb. “I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

“Pleased to meet you as well, lad” Lamb replied, patting Jamie’s hand with his before releasing their handshake. “And don’t you worry about me, I have the best nurse there is taking care of me.” Two sets of proudly smiling eyes met Claire across the room.

“Oh I dinna doubt it for a second. Your niece is a rare woman.”

“Glad to see we’re in agreement. Now what’s all that?” Lamb gestured towards the large tote discarded near Claire’s feet.

“Aye, I thought I’d bring you two a bit o’ holiday cheer.” Jamie pulled a large cardboard box from the bag and extracted a small tabletop Christmas tree from it, unfurling each branch carefully and placing it on the countertop across the room, plugging it in to reveal fiber optic lights changing colors dreamily. “I usually insist on my Christmas trees being more, well, alive, but under the circumstances this’ll have tae do.” Jamie and Claire spent the next half hour or so festooning the room in garlands and placing tiny ornaments on the small tree. Claire tried to ignore that more than half of the bag was filled with brightly wrapped gifts, not sure whether she was hoping they were all for her, or hoping that they weren’t. After all, she didn’t have anything to give him and she didn’t know if he had looked through his gifts yet nor if he had appreciated them.

While they decorated, Jamie filled Claire and Lamb in on the events of the last few days. Jamie had called Jenny to tell her not to bother picking him up from the airport. He had planned on renting a car there and driving straight to Boston. Claire could hear Jenny’s voice loud and clear through Jamie’s imitation “ya clotheid! Have ya gone daft? Yer barely able to form coherent sentences amidst the jet lag from yer Christmas Eve flight, and ya wanna drive five hours tae Boston in that state!?! Claire willna appreciate ya ending up in a ditch on the side of the road as a Christmas present ya eejit!” Jenny had made a fair point, and Jamie had agreed to sleep at home and left shortly after he awoke that morning, staying only long enough for the children to open their stockings, and to watch their faces alight with surprise at the sudden appearance of piles of presents under and around the tree.

“I’m glad you took Jenny’s advice, but most of all I’m glad you’re here.” She embraced him again. “You didn’t have to do this though, Jamie, I know how important your family is to you.”

Jamie stepped back and lifted Claire’s chin with his thumb, looking into her eyes. “You are important to me, Sassenach.” he replied, with a sincerity that penetrated Claire’s heart. Claire responded by kissing Jamie chastely on the cheek, knowing her uncle was only four feet away--politely trying to ignore them and watch the television which he had flipped to an all-day marathon of A Christmas Story on repeat. Jamie’s welcome intrusion broke up the monotony of hospital life and seemed to give Lamb a better sense of what day it was.

“Now that we’ve got the place looking good and festive, I believe it’s traditional to exchange gifts on Christmas day.”

“Jamie, it’s too much, I--”

“Oh? Thought they were all for you, didja Sassenach?” he teased. Claire blushed. Of course; she hadn’t really--but who else would they be for? Surely Jamie wouldn’t spoil Lamb, a complete stranger to him, quite so much, and no one else was there. She looked dumbfounded as she tried to come up with a defense but Jamie stopped her. “Dinna fash, Sassenach, Jenny wrapped your gifts for me and Lamb before I could see and I bought them along too. She thanks ya for the wee lotions, by the way.”

“God bless Jenny! That woman is a Saint.” Claire also silently thanked God that she had left the present she was planning on wearing for Jamie that evening in her dresser drawer, that was not a gift she wanted Jenny to see, and was definitely not something she wanted him to be opening in front of her uncle.

The three exchanged gifts, save Lamb, who had nothing to give but smiles and approval for the young couples’ thoughtful gifts. Jamie was genuinely appreciative of Claire’s gifts, although she kept insisting that she hadn’t finished shopping and there was more to come; to which Jamie humbly rejected, claiming it wasn’t necessary. Jamie’s gifts to Claire were thoughtful and meaningful, the most touching ones being a print of a painting of the rose garden he had ordered from the Botanic Garden’s gift shop and a bracelet engraved with the words perennis amor, which caused Claire to tear up and embrace him tenderly in spite of her uncle’s presence.

The three enjoyed the rest of the day thoroughly. A Christmas Story played in the background and they laughed and shared stories with one another. Jamie was a born storyteller and Lamb was elated to have a fresh audience to recount his many adventures to, so conversation flowed naturally between them, with Claire occasionally interjecting. Claire mostly just sat back and admired the two men who were most important to her, filled with joy that they were getting along, that Jamie was there, that it was Christmas. For the first time in several days she had hope and peace. She was surrounded by love in that hospital room as well. She had all the things Christmas was said to bring, and for that she was grateful. Jamie had made her greatest Christmas wishes come true without her even asking and she felt lucky to be alive.

The hospital staff served their version of Christmas dinner for the small family, and while Claire was sure it paled in comparison to whatever Jenny had made, it was quite delicious, especially considering it was hospital food. Jamie ate in the armchair next to Lamb at Claire’s insistence, since the two were deep in conversation, and Claire sat in the chair on the other side of Jamie, taking in her magical Christmas scene, better than any Hallmark movie could depict.

After dinner, Jamie was fading fast, listening to one of Lamb’s stories with heavy eyes.  She took one of the spare blankets and covered Jamie. “Looks like you’re still not over your jet lag”

“Hrmmphh, I ‘spose not.”

“Do you want me to go get you a coffee? I doubt the cafe downstairs is open today, but there’s a cappuccino vending machine a few floors down that isn’t terrible.”

“Aye Sassenach, that’d be bonny. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“None at all, my love, I’ll be back soon.” Claire squeezed his hand before leaving the two men alone.

Jamie listened to her footsteps down the hall, and waited until he heard the ding of the elevator before he cleared his throat to speak frankly to Lamb. He sat up straight in the chair to ward off the sleepiness, having a few important things he wanted to say before Claire came back.

“Lamb, I need you to know, Claire is the most important person in my life. I love her sae much and I’d do anything for her.”

“I’m glad to hear that, I can see how happy you make her. She lights up when you’re around, it comforts my old heart to see.”

“I need you tae know, I’m very serious about her. I ken we haven’t been together that long, but I know--I know deep in my wame that I’m meant tae be hers. I want ya to know that I intend on spending the rest of my life making her happy, and while I havna bought a ring or ennathing yet, I wanted to ask yer blessing” Jamie paused for a moment before adding, “just in case.”

“Of course you have my blessing, son. I couldn’t be more glad to know that Claire will be so well cared for after I’m gone, truly.” Both men looked somber, knowing full well that this could be their last conversation, hoping dearly that it wasn’t. Claire returned with three cappuccinos in hand, surprised by the mood in the room.

“Everything alright, gentlemen? Don’t tell me Ralphie shot his eye out!”

“Och! Everything’s fine, Claire! I’m just tired is all, I’m sure this wee cappuccino will cure me in no time!” replied Jamie, eagerly taking a cup from Claire as she set another on Lamb’s tray table. The rest of the evening was quiet as Jamie took a nap, while Lamb and Claire watched A Christmas Story more intently then they had all day. Claire didn’t want to leave him alone so early on Christmas so she let Jamie nap until Lamb was asleep soundly for the night. The sense of joy she had felt all day was still present, but the nagging worry she felt about Lamb’s coming surgery was starting to settle in as well. Claire woke Jamie gently and Claire whispered softly to Lamb that they’d return in the morning, squeezing his hand before the couple quietly left the room.

----------

They walked out to Jamie’s car, since he still had his stuff packed in it, but Claire drove them back to Lamb’s apartment where she’d been staying. The cappuccino was helping Jamie stay coherent, but he was in no state to drive. They were quiet on the drive home, but kept their hands locked between the seats, grateful just to be in the presence of one another.

When they arrived at Lamb’s apartment, Jamie was so tired, he didn’t even want to brush his teeth, let alone do any of his usual nightly routines. However, he had spent the morning sweating in a polyester Santa suit over his clothes, and although he took it off shortly after his surprise arrival, he felt in need of a shower. Claire showed him where the bathroom was and made sure he had everything he needed, and got herself ready for bed.

Jamie showered quickly, not bothering to wash his hair, and only cleaning the parts of his body where any stench would be most concentrated, figuring the water would take care of the rest. A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, ready to collapse into bed, but not before embracing his sorcha. He scooped her into his embrace and she buried her face in his bare, firm chest, warm from the shower. He smelled clean, and fresh and most of like Jamie. “I’m so happy you’re with me, Jamie. You have no idea how much it means to me that you’re here.” the emotions of the day hit her again and her voice caught at the end of her sentence as tears filled her eyes once again. Jamie kissed her forehead softly, down to her nose, and landed on her lips, giving her the firm, passionate kiss they’d both been longing for all day--and for months before that.

“Mo cridhe.” Jamie breathed when they separated. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. I’ll no’ leave you alone when ya need me.”

“Oh Jamie” Claire was still crying, “I’ve been so worried. I’ve been trying to stay strong for Lamb, but I feel like this won’t go back to normal--if there ever was a normal with him. I’m scared he’s going to get worse, or--” her sentence dissolved into a fit of sobs, which she tried to stifle on Jamie’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to stay strong when you’re with me. I’ll be here to help you shoulder the burden. I’ll be here to soak up your tears. There’s two of us now, Claire.” He pressed a kiss into her curls. “You can feel your feelings now, mo cridhe. Lay your cares on me. Come now, let’s get ya tae bed. I’m no’ sure how much longer I can stand myself.”

Claire fell asleep wrapped safely in Jamie’s embrace, free to be herself fully. Free to be vulnerable she felt safe, she felt loved, she felt comfortable, and most new to her--she felt she had the hope and strength that she could carry on, no matter what was to come. She slept better than she had in weeks, secure in the embrace of her eternal love.