What Would Jamie Fraser Do?

US!! HE WOULD DO US!!

We kid, we kid. One of the many reasons we love 18th-century Highlander James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser is because he's a man fiercely dedicated to one woman, and one woman alone: spunky 20th-century nurse-turned-doctor, Claire.

If what we've written so far has your head spinning (18th century Scotsman...20th century doctor...huh?) then it's likely that missing...elusive...something you've been feeling in your life is because you haven't read the time-traveling historical romance epic, Outlander by Diana Gabaldon. We politely suggest you get on that, immediately. 900-pages later, you will be thanking us. But, if you insist upon the Cliffsnotes version, check out this or this (we absolve ourselves of all responsibility for the intensely cheestastic qualities of the latter.)

We set the scene for the actual Jamie Fraser TID (Tear It Down) with the opening of the movie adaptation of the Jamie Fraser TID (sooo meta). Why, you ask, do you diverge from tradition so flippantly? Several reasons:

One, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser (no, it's not weird that we know his full name and repeat it constantly, like a sacred mantra, rather it's the sign of a true, devoted Outlander fan) is so great, such a paragon of all things stellar and manly he deserves nothing less than celluloid adoration on both page and screen.

Two, there have been multiple film and television adaptations of Outlander and its sequels kicking around in development for at least the last ten years.* With absolutely NO ulterior motives, we just want to remind everyone how very attractive this tale looks in Final Draft...

The third reason is petulant. We felt like diverging from the norm. So there.

And now, after all that exposition, thus commenceth the Jamie Fraser TID...

Cailey: So they're walking back from this Colonial-era spring fling and Claire sees the flag hung above the doorway of their otherwise wonderfully cozy home in the New World...

Liz: So, this is before it burned down...
Cailey: Shhh! Liz! No spoilers!

Liz: Sorry, you're right. OK, so Claire freaks out.

Cailey: Could it be another time traveler sending her some sort of ominous message? An "I know who you are and what time you're from" sort of thing?
Liz: Like the ill-wish Laoghaire put under her pillow?
Cailey: But more vile...imagine the possibilities...a Nazi in Revolutionary War-era America? Not exactly the zany fun of, say, a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Not a good recipe. That's the sort of thing that messes with historical timelines.
Liz: Jamie senses her disquiet immediately. Instinctively, he seeks to right the wrong and protect the love of his life from this perceived threat.
Cailey: She has, of course, told him all about Nazi Germany.
Liz: But it's harder for him to comprehend as he can't fully imagine things like blitzkrieg warfare and gas chambers. Claire may be temporally displaced, but Jamie is firmly and completely a man of his time.
Cailey: He's a bit befuddled by her terrified reaction, really.
Liz: "Aye, but Sassenach, 'tis nothing but a wee scrap of fabric. No harm."
Cailey: But it's the meaning of the flag, not the flag itself that is the threat.
Liz: This he understands completely. He remembers the significance of the verboten plaid at Ardsmuir Prison. He has the scars to prove it. And though the plaid scrap itself was harmless, its significance was the danger to the dirty English guards.

Cailey: But this is a situation he can handle.
Liz: I mean, of all things, a flag? Come on. Jamie's got this.
Cailey: It could be the four horsemen of the apocalypse riding into town... Liz: And Jamie would say: "I've got this". Or, in Jamie-speak, "Nay, 'tis nothing but a wee kerfuffle. Dinna fash yourself, Sassenach. I've seen worse".
Cailey: He doesn't even have to stand on his tip-toes to reach the flag. He just reaches up and tears it down.
Liz: Just like that?
Cailey: Just like that.
Liz: "Alright, now, Sassenach?'
Cailey: No, she's not alright. The man she loves is standing there with a giant swastika balled up in his fist.
Liz: She doesn't even have to say anything. He knows he must destroy the flag...for her. And he would do anything for her.
Cailey: Pause so we can collectively sigh...
Liz: Ready? One...two...three...
Cailey & Liz: *sigh*
Liz: So he walks into the house and looks for something flammable.
Cailey: But all he can find is whiskey.
Liz: It would be a shame to waste good whiskey on burning a Nazi flag.
Cailey: So he finds some really crappy whiskey from the still...
Liz: Douses the flag in it...
Cailey: And throws the soggy mass on the hearth.
Liz: Game, set, match to Jamie Fraser.
Cailey: Claire is, of course, deeply touched and deeply turned on by Jamie's handling of the situation.
Liz: She knows that it's not quite situation-appropriate to want to ravish her husband right after confronting this symbol of great evil, but she can't help herself.
Cailey: "Jamie," she whispers, her voice choking with restrained emotions.
Liz: "Aye, mo duinne?" he whispers huskily.
Cailey: And now we're veering into x-rated fanfic territory and should probably stop.
Liz: Can't. Stop.
Cailey: And then they have hot hot sex. THE END.
Liz: Hey, Diana Gabaldon, see how we wrapped that up?
Cailey: Of course, Diana G, the one thing we actually don't want you to wrap up too soon is the sex scenes...
Liz: But the incredibly slow slog through colonial-living and Revolutionary War minutiae...
Cailey: Enough already!
Liz: We get it. You did your research. And we laud and applaud you for it. But you don't have to put in every single detail you discovered.
Cailey: And that's coming from two gals who spent the better part of four years down the research rabbit hole.
Liz: But that doesn't mean we don't love you.
Cailey: Especially when you're rousing sleeping football players from their early morning class naps:

Liz: Are we going to buy your next book(s)? OF COURSE!
Cailey: Will Jamie and Claire make it to Yorktown in one piece? Probably. Will we faithful readers make it to Yorktown in one book? Wouldn't THAT be nice.
Liz: It's time for your editor(s) to boldly grasp their red pens and GO AT IT. 
Cailey: Like Jamie saying goodbye to Claire for the first time in the abandoned shack by the standing stones!
Liz: Cailey! SPOILERS! SHHH... 

CEANN (ie: THE END...in Gaelic)

*At one point CBS bought the rights. Now a company called Essential Pictures has the man who wrote Braveheart working on a script. We really, really hope this happens, but since the movie was announced in 2008 and there hasn't been much buzz or news since (not the best of signs) our skeptic Spidey-senses are tingling. If the Wallace Randall version doesn't come to pass (and again, we're rooting for it...indeed we may be its heartiest cheerleaders) we just want to say HIRE US TO WRITE IT! NO, REALLY! Or at least ask us what we think. Something in an advisory capacity. We have pretty great instincts. Preternaturally savvy, actually. One of us may have been working on an unsolicited, rights-less miniseries version of Outlander (not for profit or for anyone else's eyes, just a way to hone a necessary skill) and dreams of seeing Outlander on HBO, Showtime, Starz, or AMC (the only places where the Jamie/Claire love scenes in all their graphic glory will fly...also the only place where Black Jack Randall can have his way with Jamie and have it not be "tastefully alluded to". We're just sayin'). Another might be writing historical fiction of her very own inspired by the prolific, epic Gabaldon, or as the true fans call her, "Herself". We know this world. We're part of this world. These are dangerous fan waters that we can navigate with ease and grace. If the movie happens, Outlander fans are going to make Twihards look like pussycats. And if Hollywood can't smell the money in that, then they are, to quote the great Zack Galifinakis, "Rehtards".