If It Was A Sin For You

Murtagh Was Right About Women. Sassenach, I Risked My Life For Ye, Committing Theft, Arson, Assault, And Murder Into The Bargain. In Return For Which Ye Call Me Names, Insult My Manhood, Kick Me In The Ballocks And Claw My Face. Then I Beat You Half To Death And Tell Ye All The Most Humiliating Things Have Ever Happened To Me, And Ye Say Ye Love Me." He Laid His Head On His Knees And Laughed Some More. Finally He Rose And Held Out A Hand To Me, Wiping His Eyes With The Other. "you're No Verra Sensible, Sassenach, But I Like Ye Fine. Let's Go.

Aye, Well, He'll Be Wed A Long Time," He Said Callously. "do Him No Harm To Keep His Breeches On For One Night. And They Do Say That Abstinence Makes The Heart Grow Firmer, No?" "absence," I Said, Dodging The Spoon For A Moment. "and Fonder. If Anything's Growing Firmer From Abstinence, It Wouldn't Be His Heart.

A Hedgehog? And Just How Does A Hedgehog Make Love?" He Demanded. No, I Thought. I Won't. I Will Not. But I Did. "very Carefully," I Replied, Giggling Helplessly. So Now We Know Just How Old That One Is, I Thought.

He Touched The Rough Crucifix That Lay Against His Chest And Whispered To The Moving Air, "lord, That She Might Be Safe, She And My Children." Then Turned His Cheek To Her Reaching Hand And Touched Her Throught The Veils Of Time.

"sassenach." He Had Called Me That From The First; The Gaelic Word For Outlander, A Stranger. An Englishman. First In Jest, Then In Affection.