(no subject)

[1stwitness]

Ichabod has never been quite comfortable at parties, though he puts on a good show of it and a better one when Katrina is there. And on this occasion, she's abandoned him to talk to a woman on the other side of the room, so he's in the corner, looking just a little out of place.

Comments

[an_outlander]

"If you're here for the drink, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," says a voice from slightly behind him and to the right.

She's average height, for a woman, blue eyes, and had the gift of genes that could put her anywhere between about 30 and 50.

She also spotted Ichabod Crane ten minutes ago and nearly choked on some of the whisky her husband had the bad habit and good sense to bring.

Which is why she has a very slight, yet quite amused, smile on her face.

Not flirtatious. Not anything, exactly, except amused, and maybe a little unsurprised.

[1stwitness]

He turns quickly, then bows as he sees the speaker.

"Is the wine so bad, madam?"

[an_outlander]

"If you've had any of Lord Grey's stock," of Virginia, "then you'll judge it slightly above pig piss."

Her eyes laugh at him.

"And those are my husband's words, not mine, so taking it as a reflection of my character is most unfair. And the one thing I've learned since my marriage is to never argue with a Scot," which her accent places her as most definitely not, "About the quality of his drink." She extends one hand. "Claire Fraser."

[1stwitness]

"I have had the... pleasure." His eyes dance as he bends over her hand. "Ichabod Crane, at your service."

[an_outlander]

Her smile fades very slightly

("at your service," he said, and then tried to take her on the ground)

but that was a long time ago, and by the time he's straightened her smile's more bemused than ever.

Jamie once told her she'd make a poor spy, everything there on her face.

She'd learned, of late. She's had to.

"In all fairness, it's a poor crop more than poor skill. And why have you joined us, Ichabod Crane, for tonight?"

God, but she hates having to watch her speech. She's entirely too tempted to scream, "Bastards, all of you!" for the sheer pleasure of cursing, from time to time, and then run for her life.

Baseball. Hot dogs. Autos. ...And thus we do what we must.

[1stwitness]

"The duties of society", he says a little wryly. "I confess, it isn't my favourite pastime."

[an_outlander]

"Well, of course not," she says practically. "These parties are held to marry off second daughters who've no say in their own lives, let alone their own loves, to make alliances, be they economic or political, and to allow the cheap to get drunk for free." She takes her cup and proceeds to empty it into a nearby plant. "Though I don't think the last really counts here."

"And for other reasons," she adds, vaguely, but smiling just the smallest bit more behind her now-empty cup.

[1stwitness]

"Oh yes. Before I married, I was apparently considered very eligible for those second daughters." He's only pretending to drink his own wine. "Now that I'm off that table, I'm here for the other alliances, by necessity."

[an_outlander]

"My own husband..." She looks across the room at a very red-headed man and smiles a different sort of smile all-together.

"He was a laird. Before the Uprising. And now there are no more Scottish lairds, no clans, and the Gatherings are only held here. But there is Jamie." After the briefest of pauses, "Depending on the sort of alliances you're looking for, Ichabod Crane," and the corners of her mouth twitch every time she says his name, "you might quite profit by speaking with him."

[1stwitness]

He's familiar with that smile, from the inside and seen on Katrina's face, and gives a fleeting smile of happy sympathy.

"I may just do that. I'm sure he must be a man worth knowing for himself as well as for those."

[an_outlander]

She looks him straight in the eyes at that. "Knowing him has saved more necks than I can count. My own included. Consider it a suggestion, sir, and a debt long-owed finally fulfilled." A pause. "And if you should find yourself in need of a physician, come and find me. He's the soldier. I'm the healer. Now I've fulfilled it twice over. What you do with what I've told you--that's up to you."

Her cup is carefully set on the mantle and she glances at the same ginger man again.

When you have a certain kind of love, you don't even need expressions, let alone words, to communicate things.

It's called, "the true kind".

She smiles that softer smile at him before turning back to Crane. "Your manners are lacking, sir. You've yet to ask me to dance. And there's no bloody bagpipes for once, so I intend to enjoy that fact."

Bloody's barely a curse compared to her language at their home.

[1stwitness]

Ichabod laughs. "Bagpipes, dear lady, hardly count as music - and please forgive my lapse. Would you like to dance?"

[an_outlander]

"Don't let half the men here become aware of your opinion," she says lightly. "I'm afraid the Fraser clan is represented in force tonight. And not a kilt in sight, at that," she blinks, after craning her head around the room.

"And of course I would. I've accosted you, saved you from godawful wine, and my husband is--he's rather busy with a few things this evening. I can remind you to ask me to dance, or I can steal my husband's flask."

[1stwitness]

"And that lady seems to be monopolising my wife, so I also find myself at a loose end." He offers a hand. "I shall be glad to keep you from the flask."

[an_outlander]

"Worse things than a flask," and now there's a definite, almost evil smirk in her eyes, though her smile's all the same. "But at least this saves me a hangover," Claire finishes as she takes the offered hand.

[1stwitness]

He smiles and leads her to the dance floor.

"Surely a healer knows ways around that?"

[an_outlander]

"Physician," she corrects him.

Physician's get respect.

Healers, less so.

Not fair, but there it is.

"And of course I do," she says straight-faced.

"Don't drink."

[1stwitness]

Ichabod laughs, honest and greatly amused.

"Then you put no stock in cures after the event?"

[an_outlander]

She actually shudders. "Some vile man tried to convince me of the healing powers of a mixture of mercury and raw eggs. Whether it helps a hangover, I admit, I can't say. I'll take the hangover before heavy metal poisoning."

[1stwitness]

"Mercury?" He shakes his head. "That man will hang if he keeps advising that kind of cure."

[an_outlander]

"Oh, no. He's the most popular physician in the colony. Whereas I," and she bats her eyes over-innocently, "am a silly woman who'd be much better off for reading St. Paul's writings a time or two more. Or ten."

Her smile is wicked now.

"He nearly broke his back trying to fix a slipped disk. His wife ordered him to stay in bed and do as I told him."

[1stwitness]

"St Paul might have benefited from listening to sensible women a little more. Does your physician at least listen to his own wife?"

[an_outlander]

"Haven't you heard? 'Physician, heal thyself,'" she says lightly.

It's hard for someone to poison you that way, and life has made her the tiniest bit wary.

[1stwitness]

Ichabod nods. "As you have the skill, why not? At worst, you can direct others in what to do."

OOC Note

[an_outlander]

Haven't forgotten you! I'm re-reading the book that takes place in this time period--technically books, but I'm skimming for relevant sections--before tagging again.

Re: OOC Note

[1stwitness]

Noted! No rush. :)

OOC: Whoops, apologies for detail wrong

[an_outlander]

I was up far too late and screencapping Outlander for icons, and didn't pay enough attention to what I as writing. Claire has, and I have to quote this because some things I will not be held responsible for making up, "golden eyes; I've seen a pair like that once before--one a leopard."

Jamie has the blue eyes. But I was thinking up zip passwords as well for...well, a variety of reasons, and I got distracted. Sorry!