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Claire.
Christmas had never topped Claire’s list of favorite days. At least, not since she was five, and anything before that was a blurred memory with nothing to compare it to. Spending her youth trailing after Uncle Lamb across the globe had provided her with a vast catalog of cultural celebrations, but it had also left her disconnected. By the time she struck out on her own at eighteen, she lacked the sentimentality most people carried for the holidays.
For the past few years, she had buried herself in work. She volunteered for the holiday shifts because everyone else had a family to return to and Uncle Lamb was always at some remote dig site, too far for a flight to be worth a mere few hours of company.
This year, she had let herself believe things might be different. It was a stupid thought. She’d found a boyfriend she thought was "decent enough," made plans, and even went as far as buying a tree. Then everything fell out: he’d been cheating for so long that she couldn't even tell if she was the girlfriend or the mistress. As far as Claire was concerned, she was officially retired from the world of dating.
By the time her shift ended on December 24th, the streets were mostly empty. She drove back to her flat to the sound of a depressing playlist that showed exactly how pathetic her holiday had become. To top off the evening, someone had stolen her designated parking space. After a few choice curses directed at the unknown driver, she threw on her coat and headed for the lift, her mind already fixated on the bottle of wine waiting to drown her frustrations.
She was just stepping inside when a tall redhead rushed toward the lift. He was loaded down with bags that looked like Christmas presents and seemed to be in a massive hurry. Claire hadn't seen him before, but she recognized the description instantly. Her best friend, Geillis, had once visited and spent the rest of the night talking about the "handsome ginger" she’d run into by the mailboxes.
So, this was him. The stranger gave her a polite nod, which Claire returned, and he pressed the button for his floor.
He lived on the fourth, but as they reached the third, the lift jolted to a sudden stop. He moved immediately, pressing buttons and trying to force the door. If they were level with the third floor, they could at least climb out. Claire cursed herself for not taking the stairs, she usually did, but after a twelve-hour shift, her feet refused to move.
He tried the doors again in silence, though the air in the small space was thick with his frustration.
"We’re stuck between floors," he concluded with a thick accent. "That’s why the door won't budge."
"Fuck," Claire muttered, leaning her back against the cool metal wall. "Did you hit the alarm?"
"Aye. Someone should answer soon."
"It’s Christmas Eve," she reminded him flatly.
"They’re supposed to have someone on call twenty-four hours a day."
"It’s Christmas Eve," she repeated, sliding down slightly. "We’re going to starve and die in here."
“Ye can eat my nephew’s chocolates if ye’re that hungry,” he said, reaching into one of his bags. He pulled out a box of expensive-looking truffles.
“I’m not going to eat your nephew’s Christmas present,” Claire said, though her stomach gave a traitorous growl.
“I’ll not make it to him on time anyway,” he sighed, looking at the ceiling of the lift. “I’m stuck here, and so are the chocolates.”
“I’m Claire,” she said, stepping toward him and offering her hand.
He took it, his grip firm and warm. “Jamie,” he replied, finally letting a smile break through his frustration. In that moment, Claire had to admit Geillis was right. Jamie was, indeed, very handsome.
“Do you think if we scream loud enough, someone will come and rescue us?” she asked.
“Will ye scream?”
“Nope. But you look like you have the lungs for it.”
“I will not,” he said firmly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
“Great. We’re doomed,” she muttered, giving up and sliding down to sit on the floor.
“Ye’re very dramatic,” he concluded, pressing the call button one more time.
Jamie.
Jamie had sworn a week ago that he wouldn’t be going to Lallybroch for Christmas. He and his sister had fought with the same childish intensity they’d had as kids, and he was stubborn enough to hold out until she apologized. That resolution held firm until five hours ago, when Jenny called. She’d offered a rare apology, followed quickly by calling him an idiot for planning to spend the holidays alone.
Nostalgia had won. Jamie had gone out for some last-minute shopping for the wee ones, which had turned into a total disaster. He had a list on his phone of everything the bairns wanted, and as the single uncle, he felt a duty to be better than Santa. Finding the exact items had involved several heated arguments with other shoppers over the last toys on the shelves. The plan was simple: get back to the flat, pack a bag, and drive to Lallybroch as fast as the snowy roads would allow.
Fate, however, had other ideas.
He pressed the call button again, hoping to annoy the maintenance company into answering, if there was a single soul left in their office. Finally, a crackling, automated voice filled the small space, catching both his and Claire’s attention.
"Hello, you have reached Craig na Lifts. Due to a high volume of requests, your estimated wait time is fifty-seven minutes."
"What?" Claire snapped, her frustration boiling over. “Are you a lawyer, by any chance?”
“No. Why?” Jamie asked, finally giving up. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even more of a mess, before sliding down to sit on the floor across from her.
“Because I want to know if I can sue this bloody company for kidnapping me after a bloody twelve-hour shift.”
Jamie chuckled, watching her with genuine amusement. She was cursing the maintenance crew with such intensity that he couldn’t help but find it charming. She was certainly as funny as she was beautiful.
“I’ll ask a friend of mine and let ye ken,” he said, biting back a laugh because she looked so serious about it. “Where do you live, then?”
“5F2,” she said. “You?”
“4F3.”
“I’ve never seen you before,” she confessed.
“I’ve lived here for three years,” Jamie said with a slight shrug. He didn't mention that he had seen her a few times, actually. Usually rushing downstairs, so focused on her own thoughts that she never looked up.
“Well, I spend most of my time at the hospital,” she explained. “And when I’m home, I’m sleeping.”
“Are ye a doctor, then?”
She nodded. “Do I not smell like antiseptic and hospital coffee?”
Jamie laughed softly. “Not really. Ye smell quite good, actually.”
He saw a faint blush creep up her cheeks, and he suddenly felt the urge to explain himself so he didn't come across as a creep. Did he sound like a creep? “I mean... the lift is small,” he added quickly. “I can just smell your perfume. Do I smell terrible? I’ve been running around for five hours straight looking for toys.”
“You’re funny,” Claire said, avoiding his question with a smile.
Jamie hoped her avoidance wasn't a bad sign. It wasn't exactly the best first impression to be trapped in a tiny box for an hour with a beautiful woman while smelling like sweat.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked.
“I work in a distillery,” Jamie replied.
“You really are very Scottish, aren’t you?”
“And what exactly do ye mean by that, Sassenach?”
“Exactly what it sounds like,” she smiled, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the cool metal wall.
“Well, for the record, I do have a kilt I wear for special occasions.”
“I knew it.”
“And where are ye from, then?” he asked back, really involved in getting to know each other's dynamic. He found himself genuinely wanting to know more, as much as this hour could offer. The mystery neighbor who was always too busy to look up finally had a story.
“I was born in Oxfordshire, but I’ve lived in six different countries since then.”
“Impressive,” he said. “Why Scotland, of all places?”
“My uncle was obsessed with the Jacobite Rising when I was sixteen, so we moved here. When it was time for university... well, I was already settled, so I just stayed,” she confessed. It felt remarkably natural, as if they weren't two strangers who had just met by chance in a broken lift. “I’ve lived here for almost half my life now. But you’re not from Edinburgh either,” she added confidently.
“How d’ye ken that?”
“Your accent. It's different.”
“I was born and raised in the Highlands,” he admitted.
“So, what brings a Highlander to Edinburgh?”
"Let’s just say that after my father died, I couldn't find anywhere that felt like home. Not even the place where I grew up," he confessed. The honesty felt raw, but safe, he figured there was no harm in sharing a piece of himself with a woman he’d likely only see once or twice a week sharing a polite nod. "I wandered for a long time looking for that feeling, and I eventually landed here."
"And did you find it?" Claire asked softly. "A place that feels like home?"
"Not yet," he said with a small shrug. "But I found a good job with a good salary."
The practical answer caught her off guard, and she let out an unexpected laugh. Jamie wasn’t entirely sure he was being funny, but he’d managed to make her laugh several times in the last half hour, and that was a victory. Being trapped in a metal box wasn't nearly as terrible as he’d feared, especially since he wasn't stuck with the woman from 3F1, who seemed to live for the sake of complaining. No, being stuck with Claire was a significant upgrade.
Claire.
Claire glanced at her phone, it was barely clinging to life with three percent battery. It had been exactly fifty-eight minutes since the automated voice promised a fifty-seven-minute wait. Hunger and exhaustion were a dangerous combination for Claire, usually resulting in a sharp tongue and a foul mood, but she was trying her best to keep that side of herself hidden from Jamie for now.
“We should call again,” she suggested.
“If we do, we’ll lose our place in the queue,” Jamie warned.
“They’re already ignoring us. Maybe if we insist...” She knew she was being stubborn, but she was too tired to care.
“I dinna think that’s a good idea, Sassenach.”
“Do you have a better one?”
“Patiently waiting,” he said simply.
“How can you be so calm?”
“I’ve accepted my destiny,” Jamie replied, his voice dropping into a mock tone.
“And I’m the dramatic one,” Claire muttered, rolling her eyes. She moved to stand, reaching for the call button. Jamie was faster. He stood in one fluid motion, catching her arm, not roughly, but firmly enough to keep her back.
“Don’t,” he said, his expression turning serious.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“The call will restart and we’ll be stuck in here until Hogmanay.”
“It won’t restart,” she insisted.
“Claire...”
“Jamie...” She looked up at him, purposefully fluttering her eyelashes with a small pout. She was too exhausted to worry about the consequences of flirting with a stranger. She wanted that button pressed, and she was going to get her way. Even though she could have pulled her arm back, she stayed where she was, waiting for him to let go first.
Jamie’s gaze lingered on her. She could practically see the gears turning as he hesitated. His eyes searched hers before dropping briefly to her mouth, then back up again. His grip softened, and in that split second of distraction, Claire made her move. She darted her hand forward and pressed the button, cutting off the annoying hold music.
They stood in total silence, staring at each other as if waiting for a bomb to explode. The line rang once, twice... then a click.
"Hello, you have reached Craig na Lifts. Due to a high volume of requests, your estimated wait time is fifty-nine minutes."
“I told ye!” Jamie groaned. “They added another minute!”
“Why did you let me press it?” Claire snapped, immediately shifting the blame.
“Me?”
“Yes, you!”
“I didna let ye!” Jamie defended himself, his face reddening. “I tried to stop ye, but ye... ye moved like a wee fox.”
“Are you calling me a vixen?”
“I said wee fox!” Jamie scratched the back of his neck, looking flustered and thoroughly conflicted. It was highly entertaining.
“We’re going to starve,” Claire concluded, sliding back down to the floor. She checked her phone one last time. In two hours, it would officially be Christmas.
Just as her phone managed to catch a miracle signal, a notification popped up from the building’s group chat, the one usually reserved for complaining about power cuts or stolen parking spots.
Hey everyone, hope you’re having a great Christmas Eve. Just a heads-up that one of the lifts is out of service.
“Someone actually knows this bloody lift is broken!” Claire announced.
“What?” Jamie scrambled toward her, nearly falling on his knees as he tried to see her screen. Claire tilted the phone toward him. “Write back! Tell them we’re stuck in here!”
Two percent battery.
“Do you think this sounds right? 'Hey! I’m Claire Beauchamp from 5F2 and I’m stuck in the lift. Can someone call for help? We already tried the emergency line but no one is answering. Happy Christmas!'”
“I dinna think they need your life story, Sassenach. Just tell them we’re stuck.”
“Fine,” she said, thrusting the phone into his hand. “You write it then.”
Jamie took the phone, and it was Claire’s turn to lean in close to see what he was doing. But the moment his thumb touched the screen to type the first word, the screen flickered and went black.
“I didna do anything!” he said, instantly holding his hands up to avoid the blame.
“It’s dead. The battery gave up,” she sighed, the last bit of her hope vanishing.
“Fuck,” Jamie groaned, leaning his head back until it hit the metal wall with a dull thud.
“Are you not in the group chat?” Claire asked.
“Do we even have one?”
“Yes! Glenna from 3F1 added me the day I moved in.”
“Well, apparently no one invited me to the party,” Jamie said with a dry smile.
“I’ll add you myself... if we ever get out of this place,” she promised, patting his shoulder. Her stomach chose that exact moment to growl with an embarrassingly loud, hollow sound. Claire did her best to ignore it, trying to remember the last thing she’d eaten. It was likely a dry sandwich from the hospital cafeteria and more cups of coffee than she could count.
“I have the chocolates,” he reminded her. In the silence of the lift, the sound of her hunger was impossible to miss. It was a tempting offer, but she wasn't about to rob a child of their Christmas gift. She was a grown woman, she could handle another hour of hunger.
“I’m fine, really,” she insisted. “I just want to get home and microwave some leftover pizza.”
“No Christmas dinner?”
Claire shook her head, not even stopping to consider how miserable that sounded. “My best friend invited me over, but she’s seeing someone new and I didn't want to be the third wheel.”
“So, ye’re single then?” he concluded, his voice tilting up with interest.
“How depressing do you want me to make your Christmas Eve?” she joked. “Yes. I was supposed to be with my boyfriend, but I guess the Christmas spirit possessed him and he felt the need to share his joy with someone else.”
Jamie let out a surprised laugh. Claire couldn't blame him, she’d phrased it that way specifically to make the situation feel less pathetic.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his eyes softening.
“It’s fine,” she smiled. “ I’m sorry you’re stuck here instead of with your family.”
“I wouldn't have made it in time anyway. I had a three-hour drive ahead of me,” he explained.
“Wait, were you last-minute shopping with a three-hour drive through the Highlands ahead of you?”
“Aye,” he admitted. “I only decided to visit my sister a few hours ago.”
“You’re weird.”
“First funny, now weird. Anything else?” He raised a playful eyebrow.
“Very Scottish,” she added. And very handsome, she thought, though she kept that to herself.
Jamie started to move, stretching his long arm to grab one of the shopping bags. He pulled out the box of chocolates, then slipped off his coat and spread it over the floor like a tablecloth.
“What are you doing?”
“Preparing dinner,” Jamie answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He turned on his phone’s torch and placed it face down on the coat, creating a soft glow that tried to mimic a candle. “Should we pray?”
“I’m not really the religious type,” she admitted.
“I am,” he confessed. Claire didn’t judge. Instead, she simply offered him her hand. He took it without hesitation. After murmuring a few quiet words, he picked up a chocolate and took a bite, nodding for her to do the same.
This time, Claire’s stubbornness stood no chance against her hunger. She took one, and as the expensive chocolate melted on her tongue, she let out a low, involuntary moan of appreciation.
“This is incredible,” she managed to say.
“Told ye.”
Jamie.
After a few more chocolates, Jamie finally understood why his sister was so strict about the children’s sugar intake. Perhaps being stuck in this lift had actually saved wee Jamie from a massive stomach ache, neither he nor Claire seemed to have an ounce of self-control where these sweets were concerned. He wondered, briefly, if she was even aware of the small, appreciative sounds she made with every bite, sounds that were making it very hard for him to concentrate on anything else.
“I owe your nephew a box of this addictive stuff,” Claire said, breaking the silence. She looked much more relaxed now that she wasn't running on hunger. She reached for another truffle, popping it into her mouth with a satisfied smile. “I’ll buy a replacement the second we’re rescued. How much time do we have left, anyway?”
“Well, since ye restarted the countdown, it’s hard to ken.”
“I did not.”
“Aye, ye did.”
“You didn’t stop me,” she admitted half the blame.
“Aye, I tried,” Jamie reminded her. He fought to keep a straight face, even when she was being incredibly frustrating, she was thoroughly entertaining.
“You didn’t try hard enough,” she said with a shrug, her eyes dancing with a challenge.
Jamie stared at her, wondering if he was losing his mind after an hour in this metal cage. Was she even real? “Oh, so it’s my fault now?”
Claire simply smiled and nodded, looking so sure of herself that he felt strangely tempted to just accept the blame. He knew she wasn't being serious, but her attempts to drive him mad were working in such a good way.
“Well, then. I’ll just take my chocolates and…” He stopped, realizing "leave" wasn't an option. He looked at her, searching for a clever comeback, but his mind had gone blank. “...and stay here quietly.”
She chuckled. “Do I have to beg to get another chocolate?”
“Would ye be willing to beg?” Jamie’s voice dropped, the words slipping out on their own.
The air in the lift shifted instantly. The space felt smaller, the atmosphere heavier. Jamie didn’t pull his gaze away, his heart beating fast against his ribs as he waited for her answer. Claire didn’t offer a verbal answer. Instead, she held his gaze, her smile teasing as she reached out to snag another chocolate. She popped it into her mouth, her eyes never leaving his.
“Not for chocolate,” she shrugged, the casual words carrying a weight she didn't seem to realize.
Jamie watched as she licked a stray smear of chocolate from her fingertip. He was sure he was reading the signals correctly, but his heart was racing too fast to be certain.
“Ye have a bit left,” he said, his voice sounding raspier than intended. He pointed toward her face.
“Where?” Claire asked, her mouth parting slightly. He could swear she leaned a fraction closer to him.
“Here.” Jamie reached out, his thumb brushing the corner of her lips. He applied just enough pressure to catch the trace of chocolate, his skin lingering against hers for a second too long. Then, he brought his thumb back to his own mouth, licking it clean while maintaining eye contact. He saw Claire’s eyes darken, her pupils blowing wide at the subtle, bold act.
“Better now?” she whispered, the words barely audible.
Jamie simply nodded.
He knew he shouldn’t. He’d known her for less than three hours and the risk of an awkward, silent night in a confined space was high. But clear thinking had abandoned him the moment he cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.
“May I?”
Claire nodded, her lips parting in invitation. Jamie didn't need another word. He closed the gap, finally tasting the sweetness of the chocolate on her breath as the tension that had been building in their small cage finally snapped. Their lips crashed together, and Claire responded instinctively, her hands sliding up to circle his neck and pull him closer.
The world outside the lift vanished. There was no hospital shift, no cheating ex, no family in Lallybroch. Just the heat of her skin, the sweetness of her mouth, and the way her breath hitched when he nipped at her lower lip.
His free hand slid to her waist, his fingers splaying possessively across her back. As the kiss deepened, she threaded her fingers through his curls, tugging lightly. Jamie let out an involuntary groan. He pulled her against him, lifting her easily until she was straddling his lap. Claire broke the kiss for just a second, looking down at him with the most beautiful, radiant smile he had ever seen.
Jamie returned her smile for a fleeting second before his focus shifted. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there until she let out a sharp gasp. His hands roamed her back, and Claire arched into him, seeking the friction of his body against hers. When he groaned, the sound vibrated directly against her collarbone almost primal.
She captured his mouth again in a messy, desperate kiss. Their breaths mingled, hurried and shallow, as they forgot to pull away for air. Claire pressed closer until he could feel the soft weight of her breasts against his chest. One of his hands gripped her hip possessively, while the other slid upward, tracing the side of her breast.
He was certain he could take her right then and there, and the heat in Claire’s eyes told him she was thinking the same thing. Neither of them knew how much time they had left, but Jamie had long since stopped thinking clearly. His hand slipped beneath her jumper, finding the warm, and soft skin underneath. It wasn’t the proper bed she deserved and he hadn't even had the chance to take her on a proper date, but for now, instinct was the only thing in control.
But just as he started to believe in Christmas miracles, reality crashed back in.
"Hello? You’ve reached Craig na Lifts. Is there something I can help you with?
"Shit," Claire breathed.
It was the same script they'd heard for the last two hours, but this time, it was a human voice. Claire scrambled off his lap with incredible speed, and Jamie didn't blame her. They couldn't afford to waste this chance. Still, a small part of him wondered, should he hit the button? Restart the clock? Buy them another hour to see exactly how far they could go?
"Yes! Please!" Claire called out, her voice loud and clear to prove they were actually inside. "We’ve been stuck here for over two hours. Me and my... my neighbor."
"Aye," Jamie added, standing up. He tried to be as discreet as possible while adjusting the uncomfortable tension in his trousers.
"Can you confirm the address, please?" the operator asked. "A technician is in the area and will be with you as soon as possible."
Claire.
As soon as the operator hung up, promising someone would come to rescue them soon, Claire stood there feeling her cheeks burn with a mix of heat and embarrassment. She clearly hadn't been thinking when she encouraged Jamie to kiss her. She didn't regret it at all, but it was awkward figuring out how to act now, when only minutes ago she had been literally grinding against him. There was no escape, this wasn't like a one-night stand where she could dress and run out the door. They were stuck.
What was the right thing to do? Kiss him again and see if they could manage a quick shag in the five minutes before the rescue? Or should they pretend none of it happened and spend the rest of the year avoiding each other in the hallways? The thoughts were so absurd she couldn't help but let out a little laugh. When she looked up, she found Jamie laughing too.
“I’m sorry,” she said, breathless. “This is just... ridiculous.”
“Are ye laughing at me, Sassenach?”
She nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “I think I’m going crazy. Was I actually on your lap five minutes ago?”
“Aye. Ye were.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I wasna complaining,” he said, his voice low on purpose, she was sure.
“Do you think this lift has a hidden camera?” Claire looked up into every corner, not because she had a plan, but just to know if there was evidence of their outburst. When she finally looked back at him, Jamie was wearing a distinct, cocky smirk.
“Why?” he asked, his tone far from innocent.
Claire realized there was no point in explaining, because her explanation wasn’t something he wanted to hear. Instead, she lifted her index finger and beckoned him over, her back pressed firmly against the metallic wall. Jamie didn't hesitate. He stepped into her space, that grin still on his face, the kind of grin she wanted to kiss away over and over again.
“Come here,” she whispered. She circled his neck with her arms, initiating the kiss this time. Jamie’s large hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him. She sighed into his mouth, her fingers threading through the thick curls at the nape of his neck. Even through his winter layers, she could feel the solid, powerful muscle of his frame. Her hand wandered between their bodies, tracing the line of his stomach.
“Found something ye like?” he growled into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Behave,” she managed, though her voice was shaky and betrayed her completely. “Help is coming.”
“I am behaving,” Jamie declared, even as he moved his lips to her neck and cupped her with possessive hands.
“You’re really not.”
“D’ye want me to?”
Claire shook her head instantly, the thought of him stopping being far worse than the thought of being caught. They lost themselves in each other again, their rhythm desperate but contained. She wasn't about to be rescued half-naked, but she wasn't about to let him go, either.
Finally, the sound of muffled voices and clanking tools came from the other side of the doors. They sprang apart, frantically smoothing their hair and adjusting their clothes. When the doors finally lurched open, the lift was stuck nearly two feet above the third floor. Jamie let Claire go out first, lifting her with ease to help her, then he was out too.
Standing in the hallway, the shopping bags full of toys were a reminder of the life Jamie had been rushing toward. Claire felt a sudden pang of loneliness, her only plan was a cold flat and a depressing playlist.
“Come with me,” Jamie said before she could offer a polite goodbye.
“What?”
“To Lallybroch. My sister is expecting me and there’s more than enough room.”
“You’re crazy,” she laughed, though it wasn't a "no." “We literally just met.”
“Jamie Fraser. 4F3. Single. Very Scottish,” he said, offering his hand as if they were meeting for the first time. “That’s all ye need to ken.”
“I have to work tomorrow,” she reminded him, feeling a genuine sting of regret. “I can’t ruin your family Christmas by being a guest who has to leave after three hours.”
Jamie went silent, his mind clearly working through a solution. He looked like a man who wasn't used to taking "no" for an answer. Claire wasn't going to ask him to leave his family, and he seemed like such a family man, after all.
“Are ye free for Hogmanay?” he asked.
“I think so.” She wasn't, but she’d find a way to trade that shift if it killed her.
“Then ye are not anymore. Ye have a date with me,” Jamie said with absolute certainty.
“Do I, now?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. A few meters away, the technicians were cursing at the lift machinery, but Claire’s world was centered entirely on the tall redhead inviting her on a date, or something like that.
“Aye. I’ll consider it my Christmas present.”
“Me?”
“Your company.”
“Such a romantic,” she rolled her eyes, but she was already gone for him.
“May I have your number then? Or does that come after the third time we're trapped in a box?”
Claire laughed and took his phone, typing her number and saving herself as “Claire 5F2”. Just as she hit 'save' on her contact info, the clock on his screen flickered. 00:00.
“There you go. Merry Christmas, Jamie, it’s official now.”
“Merry Christmas, Sassenach,” he murmured and he didn't waste the chance, he pulled her in by the waist and kissed her one last time, right there in the hallway.
Only then did Claire decide that Christmas wasn't so bad after all.