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“Did I ever tell ye, Sssenach?” He took a step towards me and almost tripped. I could count on both my hands the time I had seen Jamie Fraser drunk- and tonight might be the first time I was the most sober between the two of us, and I certainly wasn’t sober either.

“Tell me WOT.”

Christ Beauchamp, your accent is thick when the whisky gets to your head.

“Youu-” I could hear his own Highland lilt coming out stronger, “Are the most beautiful lass I have ever laid eyes on.”

He stood a foot away from me, scanning me down from head to toe. I felt the flush of my cheeks as he eyed me with a primal look. He’d take me right then and there- damn anyone who might catch us.

“James Fraser,” I remarked crossing my arms and raising a brow, giving him that tone where he knew I was willing to surrender to his desire, just not in plain sight, “I think you are quite drunk.”

“Remember what I told ye Sassenach- ye are only drunk if ye cannae stand up right.” He stood taller, squaring his shoulders, and crossing his arms. “Looks like I can stand.”

“And so can I,” I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist. He smelled of fire, smoke, whisky, and a hint of dirt. “You looked quite ravishing doing that dance.”

“And you, mo nighean donn, looked sae beautiful watching. The fire on yer cheekbones, the moonlight highlighting the silver threads in yer hair, yer cheeks all rosy…” He kissed the top of my head.

“You looked like the lad who fell off of a horse nearly twenty five years ago who had no regard for his safety.” I stood on my toes kissing the base of his jaw.

“Every day I am with ye, Sassenach,” I could hear a bit of nostalgia in his voice, “Ye make me feel like I did the first time I saw ye. I looked up to yer face in the dark and knew my life had been changed forever.” He let out a laugh reverberating through his whole body, “Though I dinna ken at the time just how much my life would really change.”

“Hmmm.” I said. I looked up and saw his cheeks were red, the tips of his ears burning pink. I untangled myself from his embrace and pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. The night was crisp the end of spring was here and the beginning of summer was beckoning on the Ridge, but the nights in the mountains were still holding on to the final remnants of spring. He took his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder and I wrapped my arms around him once more.

“Will ye come to bed with me then?” I asked, quipping my best attempt at a Scottish accent, making my desires plainly known and hoping he’d remember the night he had asked me that same question.

“I asked ye that once.” He answered with a low growl deep in his throat. Yes, he clearly remember, and remembered vividly.

“And what was my answer?”

“Yes.” He breathed as he swung me up into his arms as we disappeared into the night.