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[ There's nothing that could really turn him away from being her friend. Not unless she turned out to be like Black Jack Randall. Or possibly even his Uncle Dougal. Maybe she only helped him that day on a whim, but she didn't need to answer his call. She didn't need to let him come over when he needed help. She didn't need to do any of those things. Yet she has. Maybe she she doesn't think herself nice or deserving, but her actions say otherwise.

He smiles just a bit. He's heard that once or twice. When he grows fond of someone his affection can go beyond. The things he endured for his sister. The awful things he went through just to keep Black Jack Randall's hands off his wife. To give her safe passage when she tried to save him. He gave himself over to Randall. It's true. James Fraser loves quite deeply. Whether it's romantic or familial. His wife has all sorts of close friends here. It's about time he made one or two of his own.

There's a node from Jamie as he thinks. He doesn't believe it. Any of the last bits. It might pass, but it will leave something in it's wake. Something new and painful. A broken and jagged feeling. ] Ye may nae want t', but that dinnae mean I'll give up. [ He's terribly obnoxious when he wants to be. Especially when it comes to the people he holds close to him. ] Like ye said--too cared for me own good.

Ridiculous.

[She scoffs, wishing it held more incredulity and less heartsickness.

How easy would it be to throw herself at him? But it wouldn't be at him. Robert, she'd think, Robert Robert Robert, and it isn't as if she doesn't recognize Jamie and his kindness, but she knows herself enough to know she'd happily substitute one for the other if she let herself.

She won't. It wouldn't be fair to him, and god knows she's simply break her own heart that way. Instead Rosalind crosses her arms beneath her chest, realizes what she's doing, and shakes her head.]

If, ah--

[God. God, and she meets his gaze.]

Even if that's true . . . at least tell me why it is you originally sought me out.

My sister says the same.

[ But Jenny thinks that most of the things that Jamie does are ridiculous. Ridiculous and full of testosterone. Which is the truth. Brock Rumlow sent Jamie into a tail spin before. He picked and he picked until he found the wounded parts of Jamie's psyche. He looked for all the things that made him hate himself more. He put a torch to every single one of them and it just made Jamie more raw. More angry. She thinks him kind, but she doesn't know every thought in Jamie's head.

He's quiet as she looks at him. He's not entirely sure what she's thinking, but he figures if she wants to she'll make it known. Instead he's quiet while he waits. When she speaks next he tilts his head for the moment. He looks down at his wrapped hand. No mobility there yet. Randall destroyed almost every bone in his hand. It was a miracle Claire could do what she could for him. ]

The day we met. [ He shifts just a tad awkwardly. He's nervous. He heaves out a sigh. ] I'm nae sure what ye did when ye touched me, but--it did something t' me. [ He lifts his hand to tap his temple with his index finger again. ] Something here.

[Ah. Rosalind nods, and finally turns, leading him deeper into the house. It's the kitchen she heads for, where there's a small marble table with three chairs. Taking a seat, she gestures, indicating he ought to do the same.

It's an open space, leading into a living room, and from one of the couches there's a soft grunt as something wakes up. Whatever it is, it's very small, because it's not visible, and Rosalind ignores it.]

It was a calming influence, I suppose you could call it. A present from six months ago, as a reward for helping cure a disease.

[She shows off her left hand, where a ring rests on her fourth finger. There's an emerald embedded within it.]

It dulls pain and relaxes a person temporarily. But it isn't a permanent cure.

[But that being said . . . she has no problems offering it to him right now. Rosalind offers her left hand, palm upwards, her gaze expectant.]

I assume you've seen a doctor already?

[ Jamie is quiet when she starts to lead them into her home a bit deeper. He bows his head and follows along behind her to the kitchen. He does attempt to step forward to pull her chair out, but she's already seated herself. Jamie instead sits in his own chair and settles back. He takes a quick glance around when he hers the soft grunt, but he doesn't quite find the culprit so his gaze returns to Rosalind when she starts to speak. She needs his undivided attention.

Whatever that ring was had to be a gift from the higher beings here. It made the most sense. He hadn't ever experienced anything so quick acting before. It was a reprieve from whatever Randall had done to him mentally. He needed it. He leans forward when she shows off the ring. He peers at it for a moment before looking at Rosalind once more. ]

I figured it was nae a permanent thing.

[ But it offered a brief time where Jamie felt like himself. The man before Randall broke him in that small slice of Hell. He doesn't reach out yet. Instead he chooses to speak first. ]

My wife.

[ Finally he reaches out with his wrapped hand and gently rests it on hers. He can't quite feel her touch through the fresh bandages, but that's alright. ]

How long do ye believe it lasts?

I don't know. But I'll try and make it last as long as possible.

[She might not have been so quick to admit that, but his touch startles her. Her fingers instinctively curl, but she doesn't pull her hand back. Instead she closes her eyes, trying to focus all of her attention on his hand.

She hates things like the ring. There's no scientific principle to it, no understanding or limits. It's all just magic. Why does it work? Magic. How long will it last? Who knows, it's magic. It frustrates her to no end, but she hadn't hated it enough to throw the ring away.

There's an impatient noise, and Darwin finally makes his appearance. Sliding off the couch clumsily, he trots his way forward, making his way to sit atop one of Rosalind's feet. He looks impatient and frustrated, with his ears wiggling and his eyes half-closed, but that doesn't matter. Soon enough Jamie will feel that same familiar feeling, cool and soothing, spreading through his fingers and dulling the pain in his hand.

Rosalind lingers there, wondering if prolonged contact might help the feeling linger.]

[ Jamie watches her with curious interest. This sort of thing is beyond him. It was strange enough watching Claire do things he'd never seen before. Medical things, but this is stuff from legends. Whispers said among his people. The talk of magic and fairies. But his wife came through stones from the future and then back through them. He can wrap his brain around a ring that brings him this sort of peace and clam.

He's trying to focus on their hands together, but the sound of whatever was on her couch draws closer. Heavy feet until finally he sees is near her feet. His eyes tear away from their hands to look at the animal. His gaze narrows and he looks incredibly confused. Rosalind doesn't seem bothered by it. He wants to ask if this is something different and strange like the animal his wife had been given.

But he doesn't have time to focus too much on the animal though because suddenly the feeling pumps through him. This uncontrolled calm that warms into his bones. Jamie smiles and shuts his eyes momentarily. For once Black Jack Randall doesn't occupy every moment in his head. ]

[She watches his expression melt, some of the tension leaving his body. It won't last for long, but at least it's something.]

His name is Darwin.

[She murmurs it, answering the question Jamie hadn't yet asked, as she keeps her hand pressed firm against his.]

My pet. Only a few weeks old.

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