Chapter Text
Claire couldn’t stop staring.
“Do ye like what ye see, Sassenach?” Jamie smirked. “Or is it what ye canna see that’s got yer eye?”
Claire glanced up at his face only to look straight back down at his crotch again.
“What in the name of Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ is… that??”
“This?” replied Jamie, dramatically tilting his pelvis forward to showcase his belt buckle. “My clan motto, ye ken it. Je suis prest… I am ready?”
“Are you sure you’re ready to go out in public wearing that?” Claire raised an eyebrow. The buckle could only be described as both oversized and garish. Perhaps once, she figured, Highlanders wore the emblem as a sense of pride but where it sat now attached to Jamie’s belt... it just seemed loud and obnoxious.
“I’m always ready - for anything” Jamie blinked slowly at her in a manner she was certain he had intended to be a wink.
“Aren’t you a witty one,” she responded dryly, having no doubt that her glass face was giving away her true feelings on the matter. It was taking everything she had not to start laughing outright.
“Come on, Sassenach,” said Jamie, wrapping his arm around her and pressing a kiss into her curls, “Let’s go see what everyone else thinks about my buckle, aye?”
Claire relaxed as much as she could into the stiff airport lounge chair. Closing her eyes and tilting her head back she mentally assessed the past two days.
As expected, her presentation at the 43rd Forensic Anthropology Society of Europe Annual Convention held here in Edinburgh, Scotland had been a success. The invitation that had arrived in the mail two months prior had been a surprise but a welcome one. As much as she loved working for the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in Boston, Massachusetts, her true passion lied in archeological forensic anthropology and it seemed the recent publication of her article in the Journal of Forensic Anthropology had caught the eye of organisations around the world. While this was both flattering and exciting, she was ready to go home all the same.
Which is why she really shouldn’t have been surprised when someone interrupted her peace.
“Excuse me, ma’am? Dr. Claire Beauchamp?”
Claire opened one eye and immediately sat up to address the man standing in front of her. With just one glance Claire could see that he was not only tall but also extremely fit considering the way his black suit fit across his torso upon which a gold Union Jack was pinned.
“Yes, I’m Dr. Beauchamp.”
“I must ask ye to come with me, Ma’am,” said the man, gesturing towards the main terminal with his hand.
“What is this about… Agent?” Claire questioned in an attempt to extract any information at all.
“Ma’am. I must insist,” replied the agent, unwavering, as another similarly dressed man came to stand behind him.
Claire sighed. She may as well have been directing her questions at a brick wall and there was no point delaying the inevitable.
“Very well,” said Claire as she gathered her purse and laptop bag. “Can I at least ask where it is you’re taking me?”
Flanked on either side by stone-faced agents, Claire was escorted through the flurry of reporters and spectators held back by neon yellow crime scene tape.
“Dr. Claire Beauchamp for Sergeant Dougal Mackenzie,” one of the men reported when met with a young police officer who was obviously doing her best to ignore the questions being yelled at her by the small crowd.
“Dr. Beauchamp! Thank you for agreeing to join us,” said the officer as she held the tape up, inviting Claire to step underneath. “Sergeant Mackenzie is this way.”
Claire followed the officer through a copse to where a number of uniformed and non-uniformed personnel were gathered.
“The Sergeant is the one overseeing the crime scene,” said the officer as she pointed out an older looking man who carried himself with an obvious sense of authority. “He doesn’t usually attend this sort of things in person but word is that the Captain is taking this one very seriously.”
“Thank you, Officer...”
“Mackenzie, ma’am, Officer Mackenzie” replied the officer with a smile before turning back towards the boundary line.
Claire adjusted the travel bag she still carried over her shoulder and made her way through the number of people working around the site.
“Sergeant Mackenzie,” Claire held out her hand, “Dr. Claire Beauchamp. I believe it was you who requested my services here today?”
“Aye,” replied the Sergeant, acknowledging Claire’s proffered hand with little more than a slight grunt. “This is the third case we’ve seen in just two months. We’re officially labelling it the work of a serial killer. The Captain’s called in not just yerself but also the NCA - we need to catch this person before they hurt somebody else.”
“NCA?” questioned Claire as she crossed her arm over her chest in an attempt to curb her building frustration with Scottish law enforcement personnel.
“National Crime Agency. We usually handle these kinds of cases but the NCA has a much more detailed database and the monetary resources necessary to deal with something like this. I believe ye’ve already met our resident forensic anthropologist, Geillis Duncan?”
“Yes, we met this past weekend at the FASE Convention. Perhaps it would be best for me to check in with Dr. Duncan and see where my skills would best be utilised?”
“Aye,” the Sergeant nodded. “And if ye have any questions or need anything in particular ye best talk to Senior Officers Rupert Mackenzie and Angus Mackenzie over ‘ere. They’ll see to it.”
“What’s the deal: you won’t let anyone other than Mackenzies work on the force?” asked Claire, only half-joking.
“Keeping the clan tradition alive, lass,” responded the Sergeant. “Ye’ll find most precincts are much the same.”
“How every progressive of you,” replied Claire dryly before moving away to join Geillis who was taking notes in what appeared to be a leather pocketbook.
“Claire! I’m glad to see ye again - although I will admit it’s much sooner than I expected,” Geillis pulled a spare set of gloves out of her pocket and handed them to Claire. “This here is my assistant Jeannie Hume.”
The young woman lying on her stomach at ground level carefully brushing dirt from what appeared to be an exposed femur paused to look up at Claire and Geillis.
“Dr. Beauchamp,” smiled Jeannie, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Claire dropped her bag to the ground and moved around the edge of the site to crouch down beside her.
“I’m happy to be working with you, Jeannie,” Claire smiled as she pulled on the gloves. She picked up an already exhumed metacarpal bone and held it up to view it with better lighting. “These bones appear to have been exposed to fire prior to being buried.”
“Aye, just like the two previous sets of remains that have been discovered,” replied Geillis. “It was determined that on both occasions the victim had been deceased when placed into a hole before being doused in accelerant and set alight. It was hours later that the remains were buried beneath a pile of earth.”
“And you suspect this is what also happened to whomever these remains belonged to?”
“Aye, there appears to be a pattern,” replied Geillis.
“A serial killer, they’re saying” exclaimed Jeannie excitably.
“Well, I must say I prefer conclusions based on detailed scientific analysis rather than the assumptions of law enforcement personnel,” Claire set the bone back down and stood to take off her gloves. “I really won’t be much help until I am able to examine these bones in a sterile environment.”
“I agree, Claire, there’s nothing more we can do here,” said Geillis before turning to address Jeannie directly. “I will leave it to ye to see that everything is shipped back to the Marion Institute of Science where we can examine the remains properly.”
Claire picked the camera up and started documenting the bones laid out on the table before her. She knew that the Institute was both well staffed and adequately equipped but she intended to send some images back to Joe Abernathy, her partner in Boston, all the same.
“What do we know so far, Mr. Mackenzie?” Claire asked Willie, Geillis’ apprentice who was yet another Mackenzie. She suspected this job would become very confusing very quickly if she didn’t pay attention to those around her.
“Initial findings suggest female, caucasian, early 30’s. Just like the two bodies found previously, blunt force trauma to the skull is evident despite the body being burned,“ Willie listed as he handed the file over to Geillis. “Police report says the remains were found early this morning by a couple hiking through the woods. The husband had left the path to relieve himself only to literally stumble across the bones.”
“I doubt he felt very relieved,” Claire chuckled distractedly as she crouched down to capture a particular angle of the victims’ clavicle.
“Aye, I doubt it verra much,” said a voice behind them, noticeably thick with Scottish accent.
“This,” Geillis started as both she and Claire turned to face the person whom the voice belonged to, “is a closed examination room! I told security specifically to....”
Geillis kept speaking but for Claire time came to a halt. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t even feel the heavy camera in her hands.
It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t . For years she’d been working to avoid seeing - or even remembering - his face.
And yet…
“Jamie?”
She hadn’t spoken his name out loud since the day they parted yet it left her lips almost involuntarily, as if she had never stopped.
“Aye, Sassenach,” he smirked as he leaned casually against the door frame, left thumb tucked behind that garish Fraser Clan belt buckle of his. “I hear there’s a murder ye need help solving.”