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Perhaps when he'd first started travelling with the Doctor, Jamie would have asked how exactly a fireplace with a chimney could work in the TARDIS; as far as he could tell when he walked around the outside, there were no hidden vents or holes that would let smoke escape. But it didn't phase him now. It was just another one of those things that he accepted now, because being with the Doctor opened your mind to all sorts of weird and wonderful things beyond your imagination. Like love, for instance. As Jamie sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace that really should be impossible, warming his hands, he thought about his latest adventure.
Those fierce Yeti. Even after they'd been pacified, their imposing, towering form was still something that Jamie couldn't shake from his mind. He'd never imagined such huge beasties could be real. Still, the Doctor had been as marvellous as ever.
One scene replayed itself in his mind, though, and the more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became. He hadn't meant to claw at the Doctor’s chest like that, when he'd seen him tied up as yeti-bait at the entrance to the monastery. It was just… a huge relief to see him again, to know he hadn't been harmed. No one else had seemed to notice, though, and if they had, they hadn't said anything.
Really, Jamie admired the Doctor. More than that, he felt he had a fierce duty to protect him. Which was why it was so frustrating when he seemed to get himself captured at an increasingly alarming rate. The Doctor was helpful, nothing but helpful, doing all that he could to get the bottom of the Yeti mystery. So why had Khrisong and the monks immediately suspected him?
Ah , a voice inside his head said. But you didn't trust the Doctor when you first met him .
Jamie knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for his eagerness to spill the Doctor’s blood at their first meeting. Dagger pressed to his throat, he'd wanted nothing more than for the filthy English thieves to die an agonising death.
But first appearances could be deceiving…
It was almost embarrassing how quickly he'd become fond of the Doctor, like a little lost puppy. Ben and Polly must've seen it too, but thankfully they hadn't said anything. Jamie probably would've died at the hands of Ben's laddish teasing. With Victoria it was different; she adored the Doctor almost as much as Jamie did, but there was no way he could confide in her just how the Doctor made him feel.
He supposed the root of it all must have been when they'd all been bundled into that cell. When Jamie had mournfully looked at the remains of his pipes, realising that if he was to play anything, it wouldn't live up to the triumphant songs of the battlefield that were expected from him.
But the Doctor had done something truly surprising. He had reached into his pocket and brought out a brightly painted recorder, and, a little uncertainly at first, started to play a Jacobite marching song. Jamie had been worried that this little act of rebellion might provoke the guard further, and he'd pulled at the Doctor’s sleeve to try and get him to stop, but, truth be told, the familiar tune had soothed him. A small smile from Colin had told him that he was reassured, too. At that moment, he could've taken on any guard that dared step into the cell.
But then the Doctor had switched up again completely, putting on that strange accent (was it supposed to be German?) and Jamie just couldn't work him out at all.
Of course, he'd come to appreciate his schemes, over time. Part of the Doctor’s charm was that no matter how desperate the situation they found themselves in, he would find some way out. He hadn't failed yet.
For all the unfamiliar and dangerous places Jamie found himself in these days, the Doctor was safe. They had a pact, an unofficial agreement that if one of them was in trouble, the other would come to their aid. That was how it would be, until the end of time.
A sound behind him stirred him from his thoughts. He didn't need to look to know that those shuffling footsteps belonged to the Doctor.
“Ah, Jamie. I thought you'd be in here. Marvellous little contraption, isn't it?”
Jamie nodded.
“And quite sensible after our last little escapade. I expect the Tibetan mountains are just a fraction more chilly than what you're used to.”
Our escapade . Even after all this time travelling together, Jamie still struggled to believe that this was his life now. He expected to wake up one day and find that the Doctor hadn't really swept him away from the Scottish Highlands, that this was all just a fantastical dream, stories he was making up for Kirsty and the wee ones. It wasn't healthy, though, to think like that. One had to live in the present, however hard that might be when you could travel from the Middle Ages to the 1960s in the blink of an eye.
“It's not so bad, really. I can handle a chill.”
A raised eyebrow from the Doctor told Jamie he didn't quite believe him. “I've made Victoria some hot cocoa, and, well, I wondered if you might like some too,” he rubbed his hands together. “I really hope we land somewhere slightly sunnier next.”
“Aye, as if you have any say in where we go.”
The Doctor looked as though he might protest, but thought better of it. “Ah. Well, just in case sunny climes evade us again, I've had an idea. Wait here a moment.”
Before Jamie could wonder what was going on, the Doctor returned. Draped over his shoulder was what at first glance appeared to be a skinned Yeti, but Jamie quickly recognised it as the Doctor's oversized fur coat.
“Here, Jamie. Give this a try,” the Doctor said, thrusting the coat out to Jamie.
“A-are you sure? I mean, what about… won't you get cold?”
The Doctor laughed; not cruelly, of course, he could never be cruel. It was a kind laugh, the sort that Jamie felt could be in itself a warm coat on a chilly day. “Oh, don't worry, Jamie. The TARDIS wardrobe has enough coats for me to wear a different one for every day of the year!”
Jamie thought on this for a moment, and wondered if he might ask to see the wardrobe. He pictured rows and rows of identical baggy trousers and shabby jackets that looked as though they had seen better days. Still, he'd come to expect the Doctor's personal sense of style, and it would be odd to see him wear something different.
He reached out and took the coat from the Doctor. It was soft to the touch; he knew it would be. He remembered the feeling of it from reaching out to grasp at the Doctor's arm so often. He hesitated a moment before putting it on, just letting the softness brush over his fingertips. After seeing so many adventures, he wouldn’t have been surprised if the coat was lacking some of its original fluffiness. He put it on, letting the sleeves fall over his hands. Although he was slightly taller than the Doctor, the coat still reached just below his knees, which Jamie was thankful for. Although he’d never admit it, he did feel the cold, which had been betrayed by his legs turning a worrying shade of purple in the biting Tibetan air.
The Doctor clapped his hands together. “Wonderful, Jamie! It suits you nicely! Though, I suppose I’ll have to say goodbye to my chances of ever wearing this particular coat again.”
Hearing this, Jamie blustered, mumbling something about how it was really the Doctor’s coat, and he didn’t want to deprive him of such a valued possession and really, he didn’t need it, and surely, if he were to give it to anyone it should be Victoria who was much more susceptible to the cold-
The Doctor stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Really, Jamie, I meant it. I should like very much for you to keep hold of this coat for now.”
Jamie nodded his thanks, and moved a few steps away from the fire; he was suddenly very aware of its warmth on the backs of his calves. “Thank you, Doctor. I won’t get it dirty or anything, I promise.” He pulled the coat tighter around himself, wrapping himself up in it, as though he might pull some of the Doctor’s residual warmth into himself. He wanted to say more, to show his gratitude fully; a hug, a kiss, anything.
But nothing happened. He couldn’t do it. Instead, the Doctor grinned at him again, and he smiled back, blinking instinctively. “Now, how about that hot chocolate?”
~~~
The New Year passed without much fanfare, as major calendar events often did when time was considered as fluid as it was on the TARDIS. Jamie was sitting in the library, feet propped up on a chair while he tackled the latest book that the Doctor had picked out for him. His reading was coming along quite nicely now, as the Doctor would say, and he felt a warm glow of pride.
He was so engrossed in his book that he didn’t notice the Doctor come in until he was only a few steps away, but if he was startled, he didn’t show it, simply bringing his eyes up to meet the Doctor’s.
“Ah, Jamie. I wanted to ask your advice on something.”
It was always so nice when the Doctor asked for Jamie’s advice on something. He loved being useful, to know that the Doctor could rely on him, clever as he was. Jamie was getting used to the fact that he might be clever too, though he didn’t always believe it.
“As you know, Burns Night is coming up soon, and-”
“What’s that?”
“Ah. Hmm. Of course, he’s after your time. I really do need to brush up on my Scottish history. Chronology escapes me sometimes, you know.” But, as soon as his face had fallen, it had lit up again, as though nothing had happened. “Well, this is a brilliant opportunity to find out about your history- er, I mean, your future. Burns Night is a celebration of the poet, Rabbie Burns.” The Doctor’s attempt at a Scottish accent was truly atrocious, but Jamie decided not to say anything. Besides, it was kind of endearing that he was taking notice of traditions, even if Jamie had no clue about them. “There's bound to be a book of his poems lying around here somewhere…”
“So, what do we do for Burns Night? Just sit around and read poems?”
“Well, that's part of it, yes. We'll have a meal; haggis, potatoes and all sorts of things,” he clasped his hands together in glee. “And of course, the highlight is the piping!”
“Ah, so that's why you wanted my advice,” Jamie beamed. How pleased he was that the Doctor recognised his piping talent, especially when Ben had once covered his ears as soon as Jamie made the slightest mention of his pipes, and Polly, though less bold in showing her distaste for the music had made a face that suggested she'd rather be anywhere else. Victoria was much more polite of course, due to her upbringing. Whenever Jamie suggested practicing his playing, she gracefully suggested that there was something else she should be doing. At least the Doctor appreciated his music, though. They'd spent many an evening sitting by the fireplace, playing duets for bagpipe and recorder until they were out of breath. The Doctor saw the way Jamie’s eyes lit up when he was freely able to play his music, as though he’d never even been away from his home.
“I also thought,” the Doctor said, looking at Jamie a little shyly. “That I ought to dress for the occasion. And so, I was wondering if you might have a spare kilt I could borrow?”
Jamie grinned. They were on the same page, as always. He was glad that the Doctor had suggested it, otherwise he wasn’t sure if he’d have the courage to suggest it himself; what if the Doctor said no? That he didn’t want to wear a silly skirt? Jamie wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover from that blunder. His fears were unfounded, of course. When had the Doctor ever said such a thing, and why would he start now? He promised himself he would dig out his best kilt, just for the Doctor. Maybe a sporran, too.
~~~
After the meal, the whiskey flowed freely. The Doctor was right; it had been great fun. And he looked rather fetching in his kilt. It was heartening to see how he’d really got into the spirit of things. Victoria had enjoyed herself too, tying up her hair with a tartan bow and applauding Jamie enthusiastically after each song. They'd sung Auld Lang Syne, and Jamie found himself thinking of Ben and Polly, wherever and whenever they might be now, and a quick glance at the Doctor had confirmed that he was thinking the same thing.
The Doctor and Jamie had found themselves back in the room with the fireplace and were sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Jamie kept finding himself looking at the Doctor’s uncovered knees; of course, for no reason other than that it was strange to see him in such a radically different outfit. He poured himself another dram of whiskey and gulped it down hastily in an attempt at distraction.
“I hope that was satisfactory, Jamie,” the Doctor said, smiling at him.
“Aye! Oh, it was brilliant, Doctor! Where did you get that haggis? I never thought I'd have it again but it was almost as good as my grandfather's…” He was babbling now, a side effect of the drink that had emboldened him, and he took the Doctor's hands in his own, hoping that he would see how truly grateful he was. “Will we do it again next year?”
“Next year? Why, do you think you'll still be here then?”
Jamie laughed, puzzled. “Where else would I be?”
“Oh, I don't know. If we were to land back in your own time, you might- well, you saw how Ben and Polly were eager to get back. If- Well, the people I travel with sometimes decide… they change. They miss their old lives. It always happens, sooner or later,” he broke off. “I… I wouldn't hold it against you if you ever wanted to go home.”
“But- but I don't, Doctor! There isn't anything left for me back home. Even if I did go back, how could I live a normal life, knowing about all this? All the amazing things I've seen? I'd go mad!”
The Doctor wrung his hands. “I didn't really give you any choice, did I? But then, I suppose it was mainly Polly's influence. I haven't really changed, after all. Not since the days of Ian and Barbara. I didn't expect to grow so fond of them, not really. I can't help it, but humans really are wonderful. ”
“Ian and Barbara? Who were they?”
“Oh, some schoolteachers I kidnapped.” The matter-of-fact tone with which he admitted this shocked Jamie, who tried not to show it. “I was younger then, more reckless. But I realised that that was what I was missing. Companionship. It can be very lonely, exploring the far corners of the universe, with only your granddaughter for compan-”
“Wait a moment, Doctor. You have a granddaughter?” Jamie was taken aback. Something gnawed at his chest; he didn't really know the Doctor that well, all things considered. Of course, things had happened before he stepped on board the TARDIS; Ben and Polly were a testament to that, and Jamie knew that the Doctor was older, much older than he actually looked. He realised he was still clinging onto the Doctor's hands, and relaxed his grip slightly. He wasn't sure he could even go through with this anymore.
“Yes. Her name was- is- Susan. I miss her terribly. But I don't know that she'd want to see me again. Partings are always- I don't tend to visit people again after they've left. And we left on odd terms,” he looked around wistfully. “I still have her shoes here somewhere.”
“Ah, I'm sure you'll see her again one day, Doctor. Hey! We could try and find her together, seeing as I'm not going anywhere.”
“Oh, Jamie. Don't feel you have to stay here just for me. Besides, I don't think I'm ready to face her again. I was rather a different man then. It would feel strange to be called Grandfather.”
“Whether I stay or go, I'll always be a man out of my own time. So I'd like to stay here,” Jamie swallowed. “By your side. Wherever the TARDIS takes us next.”
Silence. The fire glowed, casting light on the Doctor's knobbly knees, Jamie very pointedly not staring. He'd said too much, he thought. Time to play it cool.
“I think I shall have to make an effort to wear a kilt more often, don't you, Jamie? I must thank you for opening my mind, and my wardrobe choices,” he sighed. “The truth is, I am rather fond of you, Jamie. Although I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to go back home, I would miss you terribly. I'm not sure there's anyone else out there who shares your boundless curiosity, your willingness to take on new challenges. You take on unfamiliar and strange things every day, as though they were nothing.”
“Doctor…” Was this going where he thought it was going? For a moment, Jamie was too stunned to speak. “It’s thanks to you, really, for showing me all these amazing places. But- more than that, it’s you. I could live without all the strange aliens and odd planets, but it’s you I’d miss most of all. So I really don’t want to leave. And- I’m… fond of you too.” He wasn’t quite sure if he could say love yet; he knew that was what it was, but he couldn’t help being self-conscious. Even though they were practically in each other’s arms, and to any outsiders it certainly looked like they were a pair of lovers sharing a romantic moment by the fireside.
The Doctor kissed Jamie, softly, on the top of his head and pulled him close. “This is what you meant, isn’t it, Jamie?”
Jamie could only nod.
~~~
The fire was dying, the last embers burning themselves out. Jamie and the Doctor had not moved from their position in front of the fireplace, despite the growing coldness of the room. It was no matter though- they had each other’s warmth, and no forces on any planet, star or universe could ever tear them apart.