#wegotogether

We go together like eggs and bacon…

It’s been a long while since I got the bug to update this little fic. I hope you enjoy!

Catch up on Chapter 1 and Chapter 2

See my Master List here

Due to her tardiness, Claire’s home room introduction had been quick and painless. Claire Beauchamp. Senior. 18. Goal is to become a nurse. She sighed in relief as her teacher gave her this semester’s schedule. The only desk left in the classroom was in the front row by the window. She sat down, avoiding eye contact with her curious peers, and pulled out the map Jamie had told her about.

Claire all but jogged down the hallway to keep up with Jamie, her progress made all the more difficult by her attempts at avoiding eye contact with curious onlookers. Jamie’s large presence parted the sea of students that were in front of them and they began to shuffle on their merry way again as soon as she passed. Claire felt her blush burn hot from her chest to the tips of her ears.

Jesus, how embarrassing.

“Here ye are,” her erstwhile savior said, nodding at the locker. “Do ye have your combination?”

Oh God, Beauchamp, seriously?

“Erm..” she mumbled, fumbling in her binder for the number combination she already knew wasn’t there.

This was the first real school she’d ever been to, having grown up traveling the world with her Uncle Lamb. Now, not only was she in a new school (one with actual plumbing, no less) but they’d relocated to the United States. Land of opportunity, eclectic accents, and apparently confusing school layouts. The first bell rang but Jamie made no move to leave.

“Listen, thanks for all of your help but I’ve got it from here,” Claire said, setting down her things and trying to decide if she’d be able to find the school’s office again without getting lost.

She looked up to find Jamie Fraser looking at her with a raised eyebrow, which inflamed her irritation.

“I dinna mind helping, Sassenach. I could-”

”-Please just.. just go okay?” Claire replied exasperatedly, wanting Jamie to leave before she had a nervous breakdown.

“I’ll just go to the office and-”

“Seriously, what is your problem? I don’t want your help!” Claire snapped.

Jamie’s face went from surprised to inscrutable, his clear blue eyes making her feel like she was being x-rayed.

“I see,” he said evenly, glancing away. “Well then.”

Jamie unceremoniously thrust the books out for her to take. Claire grappled for them, barely keeping the teetering pile from crashing to the floor again. She swallowed, willing back the tears that threatened to show themselves. Jamie opened his mouth to say something further but stopped as he glanced back and caught sight of her face. His expression softened, and he took a slow step toward her, placing a large, warm hand on her arm.

“Bear up, lass. It’ll be alright.”

Claire sniffed out a derisive laugh, blinking back the tears as she stared at the books in her arms. So much for keeping it together; she couldn’t even make it an hour, let alone the whole school year. Christ, she must look like an idiot. She exhaled a shuddering breath and felt more than saw Jamie glance around the hallway, then step closer to her as he gave her arm a soft squeeze.

“Ye dinna have to be nervous. No one will bother ye so long as I’m wi’ ye,” he said lowly, only loud enough for her to hear.

Claire slowly raised her eyes to meet his. He’d cocked his head to better see her face from his vantage point above her. He really was very tall. His leather jacket fitted his broad shoulders perfectly; while he couldn’t be more than 18, the lines of his body hinted at the muscle and bone of a man. He was an imposing figure, indeed.

As if he read her mind, the corner of Jamie’s mouth twitched.

“People tend to scatter when they see me,” he said lightly, releasing her arm but not backing away just yet.

Claire squared her shoulders.

“And when you’re not with me?” she asked.

“Just dinna forget you’re new here. No’ everyone here is verra welcoming Sassenach. But,” he said, a slight smile on his lips, “I’m guessing you’ll be just fine. Dinna be so hard on yourself.”

Claire sniffed, looking down again.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Mmph,” he said, stepping away at last, as the last bell rang. “You’d best go to the front office. There should be a school map in your new student packet. Ye won’t get in trouble for being late for class on yer first day.”

Claire smiled, feeling centered again.

“Thank you, I will.”

Jamie looked at her a moment longer, then coughed and turned to go.

“See ye around, Sassenach!”

“Jamie!” she called, remembering something.

He half turned, eyebrow lifted in question.

“It’s Claire. Claire Beauchamp.”

He smiled, his slanted blue eyes seeming brighter with it, and nodded before strolling around the corner to his classroom.

Claire bumbled her way down the hall, trying her best to blend in. Well, as best she could, considering she was probably the only new student showing up three months into the school year. She blew a tendril of curly hair out of her face, her arm muscles screaming about the load of used text books she carried, trying not to notice the stares and whispers in her wake.

“Locker 213… 213… oh bloody hell!“

Ever so gracefully, Claire found herself on her arse surrounded by her fallen textbooks. Mortified, Claire took in the now silent crowd of students surrounding her, then at the boy she’d run into. He stood well above most of the others she’d seen that morning, his cropped red hair curling over his forehead, blue eyes staring down at her. Face burning, she hid behind the veil of her own curly hair while she started to gather her things.

“I’m so sorry.”

She glanced up, seeing a corner of his mouth turn up as he kneeled down and started picking up her books.

“Dinna fash, lass. I wasna watching where I was going,” he said lowly, the lilt in his speech almost making her fumble her books again.

Claire blinked.

“You’re a Scot!” she exclaimed, looking at him with new interest.

Claire’s smile fell a bit as his kind face sobered into an inscrutable mask. He made an odd shrugging gesture, like his leather jacket was too tight. She felt like she should apologize but didn’t know what she’d done. Instead, she focused on picking up the last of her fallen pens that had dropped out of her binder. The boy tucked the straightened pile of books under his arm, stood, then held out a hand to help her up. His palm was warm and solid, his grip steady but gentle.

“Thank you..”

“James. Jamie Fraser,” he responded, with a small movement that may have been a bow.

“Thank you, Jamie,” Claire said, glancing nervously around at the other students gaping at their exchange and wishing she could disappear on the spot.

Jamie eyed them, then cleared his throat as he tilted his head in the other direction.