Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

But you are my home.
I want us to be together.
Two hours.
And, uh, after that?
One last thing.
that will be left of me...
1968.
their vision to dictate ours.
Brianna.
And I you.
The Highland army was completely exposed,
Tell him what you will about me...
He didn't.
to that one person you loved most in all the world?
My parents were Jerry and Marjorie MacKenzie.
Are you sure about this, Frank?
They've taken a fool,
We're meant to be headed back to London this evening.
safe from the Crown,
It smells like a fuckin' barbecue.
Come and let us live, my Dear.
Friendly advice
and my father told him to abandon the project.
We Randalls are a verra complicated clan, laddie.
the man you had an affair with.
Aye. It's been a bit of a tricky day.
I don't want to discuss
Oh, you're so like your father.
There you are.
Thank you for the whisky.
to move through the stones,
It has begun.
Charles was Catholic and a Scot.
I did the math, and it turns out
Aye.
Just stay.
I thought you didn't like military history.
Are these his journals?
No.
And so someone has to die to travel through the stones.
by daughters everywhere.
We... we just ran into her at the pub.
It's true.
to put a stop to it all.
Here.
The way it works...
You hear it, right?
It's a common name here.
ye've betrayed Scotland herself.
How long since anyone's been in this place?
when she last saw me, so it must have been...
and four of them have their names memorialized
Once.
wanted to undo all that.
but here I am...
All my life, you've lied to me.
From what I could tell,
I get your meaning.
- Claire? - Frank, I'm back.
Here's a letter from your father.
Definitely. That's me. Yes.
Set them on the road to Lallybroch
His blood and sweat are in this stone.
Like...
No one would ever know.
was in April 1948.
Would you excuse me, uh, for a moment?
the one you're named after.
Jamie
If that's true, then...
This is your uncle, mo chridhe,
To a man...
and then I'll damn your soul to the fiery pit.
Oh, no, we'll drive as far as we can and then stop at a pub for the night.
I did.
Gillian Edgars.
A fair improvement on shouting.
and never looked at it again.
Oh, there you are.
The daughter.
How did you do it?
is practically a religious text in Boston.