Work Text:
“Being held hostage in our house. Send help or come save me yourself,” the text message on Jamie’s cell phone read. He snorted. Claire had been dealing with a teething Faith on her own while he worked. Right now he was working four days then he was off work the same length of time and while having a big block of consecutive days in which to shower his wife and daughter with attention, it made the time away quite a challenge. This was day four.
A picture followed before Jamie could respond. The image showed a distressed Faith, a horrifying trifecta of tears, snot, and drool covering her splotchy face.
“I cannot even pee alone or she falls apart,” the next words read. Ok, so it was not going well. He’d call Jenny and see if she had any ideas on how he could support his wife.
A final text popped up on his screen. “I’m not joking about this, James Fraser.”
He was calling Jenny now.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell chimed causing Faith to begin her whimpering again. Claire shoved herself and her daughter upright from her slumped position on the couch where Faith was draped across her gumming her thumb. “This had better be worth it,” she groused, walking toward their front door and opening it to find their neighbor, Mrs. Fitz, standing there with her arms full.
“Hello lass,” she said cheerily, nudging Claire to the side and bustling through the door and down the hallway.
Claire held the fussy baby and bounced her up and down in what was intended to be a soothing manner. The dull whining cry that was radiating out from Faith’s form reached a new crescendo every time they hit the bottom of the bouncing motion. Claire couldn’t summon the energy to greet Mrs. Fitz nor could she form a coherent question in order to find out what she was doing. So she stared.
“Och, gi’ the lassie here,” Mrs. Fitz scrambled back toward her beginning to provide the information that Claire’s fuzzy mind needed.
“Your lad, Jamie, he called me and asked if I’d be so kind as to deliver a few things to ye and watch the bairn for a bit. Said that ye’d be wantin’ to wear what was in that box there,” she bobbed her head in the direction of a flat, rectangular box. She continued before Claire could get a word in edgewise. “And he said that ye would need the contents of this envelope as weel.” She waved said envelope in front of Claire, trading the baby for the envelope. “Ge’ on wi’ it lass. Ye havena got all day!”
Just like a modern-day fairy godmother Mrs. Fitz went off to the kitchen to see that everything was put to rights before beginning to bake her famous shortbread, soothe the baby, and work other absolute miracles.
Stunned, Claire shook her head and finally looked in the box. The most exquisite dress was contained within. The one she had pinned on her Pinterest board the other day while Jamie was at work. The one that she likely wouldn’t have many occasions to wear, yet he had both searched out and found for her. Opening the envelope, a smile spread across her face. Symphony tickets for a sold-out showing this evening. Her eyes near to overflowing with happy tears and her heart completely overflowing with love for the marvelous man she’d married, she scooped up the packages in excitement.
“I’ll be back down in a bit, if that’s all right?” she asked. “I’m just going to shower and fix my hair.” She grinned giddily at Mrs. Fitz. “I’ve got to be ready to go out with my husband tonight!”
They sat in their car in front of their flat, telling each other all the things that had led up to that evening.
“And then,” Claire erupted in a fit of giggles, “She literally told me to be home ‘afore the clock strikes midnight!’”
Jamie joined her laughter, relishing the time with his wife and the joy he could feel radiating from her lithe frame. “Did ye no’ ask her to turn some mice into footmen or some such nonsense?” he continued to chuckle.
“Oh, Jamie,” his wife sighed blissfully. “I didn’t dare joke or do anything that might jeopardize my freedom,” she snorted a bit at that.
“Claire?” he said, causing her to pause. He rarely called her by name other than when he was serious. He looked her full in the face indicating that he was, in fact, quite serious.
“About staying home with Faith all the time…” he stopped, letting the sentence dangle.
Then simultaneously, they spoke.
“If ye really wanted to go back to work ye could.”
“I think we should try for another baby.”
“Really, Sassenach? Are ye serious?” his eyebrows couldn’t have gone higher nor could his smile have been bigger.
Claire smiled incandescently and twined her arms around the back of his neck the best she could across the console between them. She met his eyes that were still locked on her face. “As serious as a heart attack, James Fraser!” she chuckled at the look that was still stuck on his face.
“But, ye were just textin’ me wee messages about how ye were stuck here. Faith has been caterwauling and there’s naught ye can do about it. Ye were tellin’ me just the other day how much ye miss working wi’ Joe and Geillie and Mary!” He felt no small amount of guilt over how long it had taken him to realize all of these things that she was dealing with on a daily basis. And now she was offering him the gift of another child in spite of it.
“I dinna want to make ye think that there is anything ye must do for me.”
“Jamie, I love you. And I love Faith. There will always be moments where things are difficult, nothing can change that. There are things I miss about the way it used to be, but this is a phase and I’ll likely miss it too, once it’s passed. Mostly,” her voice softened to a whisper. “I want nothing more than to build a life and a family with you.”
“Oh Claire,” he pressed her tight against him. “Ye do break my heart wi’ loving you.”