Author's Note: For TVnut, because kidnapping Jamie and presenting him with a bow wrapped round him is still considered illegal and impossible. So you'll have to make do with another story as a birthday present. Happy Birthday!

"You want me to what?!"

There were a lot of things Dougal was willing to do for Colum. Ride out through all their land and take rent, enforce law and order, go to war, sleep with his wife and impregnate her with the clan's new heir and hope, were among the many things he had already done for his older brother.

Hell if the guy asked Dougal to take a shit for him, Dougal would.

But this….this! This went beyond the call of duty

"I said," Colum said coolly, "that I want you to create a scenario where Young Jamie has to marry Mistress Beauchamp."

Colum wanted Dougal to match-make.

Him.

Match-make.

Dougal MacKenzie, War Chief….match-making.

The sheer thought of it made Dougal's skin crawl. It was just so…so…so unnatural. Dougal was meant to hack men down with his sword and beat idiots up and rally the men together….not fix an upstart brat up with a surly English woman who couldn't hold her tongue for five freaking seconds.

Dougal spluttered indignantly. "Do I look like a freaking cupid to you?!" he burst out.

Colum shot him a cool look that told Dougal to be reasonable and rationale. This did nothing for Dougal's temper as he felt a vein in his forehead throb furiously. "You look like my right hand man who had sworn on his iron to do whatever I will," Colum said calmly, "And I will you to do this for me."

"Do what?!" Dougal cried out desperately.

He could have sworn he almost saw Colum roll his eyes at that and that really didn't do any wonders to his temper.

"Honestly Dougal all you need to do is engineer a situation where someone catches Young Jamie and Mistress Beauchamp in a compromising position forcing them to wed," Colum said exasperatedly, "I am not asking you to recreate some romantic convoluted plot worthy of Shakespeare."

"But why?!"

Dougal was ashamed to admit that at this point he was whinging like a child. It's not like he hasn't got a very good reason to do so! He was a war chief not a match-maker! Colum was asking him to do woman's work and Dougal would like to have a very good reason as to why he was about to humiliate himself.

And it better not be because Jamie really needed to get laid.

"Because of last night at the oath-taking," Colum said simply, "Jamie has become noticed."

Dougal grimaced at that.

Ellen's boy had always been a threat to Hamish's future as clan leader. He was a strong, good-looking, young man who has proven to be every bit a warrior as Dougal, every bit of a leader as Colum, and he was so very likable as well.

And the Clan had noticed.

"And your answer is to marry him off and make him an even stronger threat as he produces his own heir?" Dougal sneered.

"Don't be stupid Dougal. It doesn't become you," Colum said coldly and Dougal flushed in embarrassment. "I want Jamie to marry a Sassenach."

"Why?!"

"Because, brother, being half MacKenzie is one thing. Being half MacKenzie with an English wife is quite another."

And then it finally clicked why Colum wanted Dougal to become a match-maker. After all the Clan would never accept an English wench to be their leading lady which would mean Jamie was safely ruled out as a potential heir and Hamish's position was safe once more.

He smirked.

"Then I suppose," He said, "I ought to find my cupid wings, shouldn't I?"

Colum snorted.

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Engineering a scenario where Jamie and Claire were caught in a compromising position was harder than Dougal thought it would be.

Mainly because his nephew was a too noble and virtuous for his own good pansy.

No, seriously, any other man, even Ned Gowan or Murtagh who held themselves to higher standards than Dougal's men, would have bedded Claire Beauchamp at this point. Jamie, however, appeared to be determined to die with blue balls.

If he had any at all.

Dougal's first attempt at matchmaking was simple, yet elegant and clever, he simply ensured that Claire Beauchamp was isolated. Isolated from the fire. Isolated from the warm bodies. And sitting out in the cold, misty, Scottish night in need of someone to come to her rescue and warm her up.

The perfect bait for the hero-complex that was Dougal's nephew.

And Jamie did step up.

He stepped right up and wrapped his blanket round Claire's shoulders and they murmured quietly amongst themselves as they laughed and shared the most sickening stares which would suggest Dougal's job shouldn't be this difficult (but it fucking well was!). And then Jamie stepped right back off and spent the rest of the night shivering on his bed roll as Claire snuggled under both his and her own blanket.

The stupid moron.

(He obviously didn't inherit any of the Mackenzie's brains with that red hair.)

So Dougal had to step up the ante. Obviously the fact that Dougal and his men were no more than six or so feet from Jamie and Claire was spoiling the mood. So Dougal had to make a private encounter and then send someone to accidentally stumble on them.

It helped that Claire was a woman and therefore had an annoying need to wash daily. Actually Dougal had never known a woman to wash as regularly as Claire. It was one of many strange things about the woman.

Claire got up after their meal to wash when Dougal leaned over and smacked Jamie over the head with his water flash. "Here," he grunted, "you can go and fill everyone's flasks up."

"I will," Jamie scowled as he rubbed the back of his head, "later."

"Now," Dougal ordered.

"I can't go now!" Jamie spluttered. "Cla – I mean Mistress Beauchamp is currently bathing."

"Not my problem," Dougal shrugged, "we need our water and the lass shouldn't bathe so often. It ain't right." Jamie remained where he was with a stubborn look set on his face. "Now Jamie." Jamie didn't move a single inch. "Now!" Dougal barked. "Or so help me God I wi-"

"Fine!" Jamie huffed. "I'll get you your damn water. May you choke on it."

Dougal rolled his eyes at the childish outburst and waited a good few minutes before he got up and followed. With a normal man, like Angus or Rupert or even himself, Dougal would expect to find Jamie soaking wet with either a naked lass in his lap of a slap mark on his face. It didn't matter which one they would both be a good premise to arrange a shotgun wedding on.

Instead Dougal stumbled upon a very dry Jamie sitting on a rock with his back to Claire who was disappointingly and depressingly dressed. They were laughing and talking to one another as Claire washed her face and hands. It was all so very sweet, and twee, and disgusting…..but was nothing that Dougal could force a wedding on!

Attempt number three didn't work either. Getting Angus to push Claire onto Jamie did nothing but make Jamie look suave and chivalric as he caught her perfectly. There was no scandalous grass stains to cry about.

The fourth attempt was a useless idea in the first place. They were on the move, travelling one place to another, with no actual secure place where no one would wander in, so locking Jamie and Claire into a store cupboard was a stupid idea when the bar wench is going to open it three seconds later.

It was then when Murtagh clicked on to what Dougal was planning.

"It's not going to work you know," he said quietly, "she's not that stupid and he's far too honourable for his own good."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," Murtagh snorted.

"Are you going to try and stop me?" Dougal murmured. "Because it won't be pretty if you do. This is Clan business."

"I don't give one flying fuck about your blooming clan," Murtagh said airily which made Dougal grit his teeth and barely fight back the urge to sink his fist in Murtagh's smug, insufferable, face, "what I care about is Jamie." Dougal glowered at the implication that he didn't care about the boy. Of course he cared about Jamie. He just cared about the clan and the cause and his own position a little more. "…no," Murtagh added softly, "I won't stop you."

Dougal raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"She would be good for him," Murtagh observed, "She's a bossy shrew when she wants to be but I think Jamie could soften her a bit. Teach her some restraint. And in return she would help him be a man, take care of him properly and perhaps teach him a little restraint in return. That, and he wants her. Desperately. I think the poor lad is already in love."

"Then why hasn't he done anything about it?!" Dougal cried out in frustration.

"Told you," Murtagh took a swig of his beer, "he's too damn honourable for his own good."

And wasn't that the gospel truth?

Dougal's fifth attempt was a variation of his first. He sent Jamie up to guard Claire's room after one of his particularly rousing anti-British talks that brought in a load of money and some very good drinks. He had no doubt that Claire's good heart wouldn't let her let Jamie sleep out on the cold floor in the landing and soon enough they would be sharing a bed.

He would discover in the morning that despite the lass insisting on it, Jamie still opted to sleep out on the floor in the landing with only the lady's blanket for comfort and warmth.

He gave his nephew a well-earned clip round the earhole which didn't endear him to anyone.

"I'm never going to get the two of them in bed together," he grumbled, "those two morally righteous, honourable, idiotic, children are going to come back to Leoch as unwed as they left it and Column will be furious."

"Told ya," Angus said, "just get them drunk."

"If I believed that would work without us all getting drunk and forgetting about it," Dougal growled, "then I would have done it the first night, wouldn't I?"

"Meh," Angus shrugged, "perhaps the boy is better off in a monastery. I mean if you were trying to set me up with a lass like that then I would have had my way with her six ways to Sunday by now. Can you imagine what a-"

Dougal then had to spend the rest of the day trying to tune out Angus' inappropriate thoughts on exactly what Claire would be like in bed as he uncomfortably fretted about failing Column for the first time.

Fortunately though Claire then had the decency to be kidnapped by the British army and be wanted for questioning by the most devious and vile man Dougal had ever met. With the only way to protect her from such an interrogation was to make her Scottish…

….well it was a good thing he and Column had those marriage contracts drawn up before he left for this tip wasn't it?

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When they finally returned to Castle Leoch they were greeted by a very frosty, unimpressed, Colum.

The welcome hurt especially since Dougal only did what he had been asked to do and Column then shat all over it when Jamie presented Claire as his wife. After an extremely painful and awkward affair that was supposed to be dinner the entire population of the castle scattered to their own rooms and business in order to escape the frosty atmosphere.

Dougal decided to confront his brother over this right now because there was no way in hell was he going to put up with this nonsense he marched right into his brother's study without knocking and immediately threw himself into the chair opposite before he plonked his feet up on the desk in front of him.

Column glowered up at him but said nothing.

"I don't understand why you're so pissy," Dougal said irritably, "I did what you wanted. I got Jamie married to the Sassenach now no one wants him to be chief over Hamish."

Colum closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. This did nothing to improve Dougal's mood as he felt his eye twitch furiously. "That is not why I am upset, Dougal" Column said calmly. "Now get your feet off of my desk."

"Then why are you so bloody upset?!" Dougal yelled. (His feet stubbornly remained on the desk) "They're married. Jamie's potential as your heir is now squandered away. Hamish's position is secure. I did what you bloody well wanted so why are you upset with me?"

"Other than the fact you have bee blatantly collecting money off of my lands and my people to fund your own agenda?" Column retorted icily.

"The return of the true Scottish King is not-"

"Oh stuff it!" Column snapped impatiently. "I've heard it all before and, unsurprisingly, I'm still not interested." Dougal crossed his arms and glowered at his older brother. He couldn't understand how Column didn't want the return of a true Scottish, Catholic, king that would protect their interests over those of the British. "And while I did want Jamie to marry Mistress Beauchamp," Column carried on, undeterred by Dougal's scowling, "I do not recall in any of my instructions that you had to cause a near diplomatic crisis with the British Army."

"It was the only way!" Dougal protested and Column immediately shot him a sceptical look. "No don't look at me like that, it was!" Dougal said desperately. "Do you have any idea how bloody stubborn that boy is?! The boy wouldn't budge no matter how much we tempted him. It had to take Mistress Beauchamp being a damsel in distress to make him step up."

"Well," Colum sighed, "he is a Fraser."

"Aye," Dougal agreed sagely, "stubborn as rocks the lot of them. And that Sassenach lass could also give them a run for their money in stubbornness."

"Well," Colum's lips twitched in amusement, "she is a Fraser too now."

"There isn't a lass out there better suited to it."

Column stood up and slowly made his way to his decanter where he poured out a healthy measure of whiskey for the pair of them. Dougal happily accepted his glass and in unison they raised their glasses.

"To the Frasers," Column intoned.

"To us," Dougal corrected.

They clinked glasses and spent the rest of the evening by the fire as Dougal entertained Column with tales of their nephew's stupidity and stubbornness.

Their frostiness about the money and the Jacobean cause would resume in the bright light of morning when their hangovers kicked in.