Ianto’s Journal

January 3^rd 2008

It’s been another ‘interesting’ day here today – I hope it isn’t an omen of the year to come. I’m honestly beginning to wonder who’s hexed us with the ‘May you live in interesting times’ curse. I’d far rather live in safe and boring times, thank you very much.

Today was the first snow of the winter in Wales, and the first snow in Cardiff for years, which of course led to the usual school closures, traffic nightmares and general chaos and confusion. Thankfully Jack and I didn’t need to travel anywhere as we’d stayed in the Hub the night before. Tosh, Gwen and Owen were all late; Owen in particular arrived in a foul mood, spouting off about the other drivers on the road. It’s best to ignore him when he gets like that, he soon blows himself out if he’s not given any further provocation.

The snow also led to a Ti-arl-iepinr-lixube hatching.

Ti-arl are rare in Britain as they require deep snow; they mainly occur in Scotland. I’ve not seen one before in my lifetime. The small black eggs look like hard and shiny pebbles, but a heavy covering of snow incubates them. They absorb the snow, and grow and grow and grow. It gives new meaning to the phrase Abominable Snowman. Although Abominable Snowball would be a more accurate description.

By the time we picked it up on the sensors it was after noon and the roads were even worse. The police had issued the usual sever weather warning, advising only essential travel. We managed to get in the general vicinity on the main roads, before having to abandon the SUV as none of the side roads had been gritted and were basically un-drivable. Lord knows what this country would do if we regularly had snow.

Luckily it only took another half hour or so on foot to track the Ti-arl. Catching it was another matter. If I hadn’t been so freezing I’d have laughed at the picture we must have made, five adults chasing after a huge, ever-growing snowball. Jack ‘borrowing’ a cheap plastic sledge from a small boy and racing downhill with a rebel yell is a memory that will remain with me for a good long while.

Jack, whether by luck or good steering, eventually managed to smash into the Ti-arl, covering himself in snow as the ball disintegrated. A Ti-arl will reform if not taken out completely, though. I’m not going into further detail even here in my diary, suffice it to say that Jack, Owen and I did our duty, bloody cold though it was, while Gwen and Tosh politely turned their backs. Luckily I’d drunk so much coffee earlier.

We left behind a slightly steaming patch of yellow snow as we began the weary treck back to the SUV. From their weary pace I think Owen, Gwen and Tosh were as exhausted as I was, but Jack was as high as usual, keeping us entertained with anecdotes of snowy days past. It was engrossing to hear some stories of his childhood, it’s not usually something he usually ever mentions, and I’ve certainly never seen any photos of him as a child. I sometimes wonder if he was hatched, fully formed and mature and wearing a Great Coat.

I blame my deep and philosophical thoughts about Jack’s childhood for him taking me so completely by surprise when he threw the snowball. I know I gasped in shock, the snow trickling off the back of my head and inching down the collar of my coat, as Jack jogged backwards, laughing at my reaction.

Why does being covered in more snow make you forget how cold you are? From then on, there was only one thing on my mind. This was war.

It took me a while – after all, I was up against the legendary Captain Jack Harkness – but in the end I managed to get my revenge. Distraction is the best tactic with Jack. Tosh managed to capture the moment on her phone and downloaded me a copy of the photo. It makes me smile now to look at it; my legs are wrapped around Jack passionately as he holds me, pressed up against the car; his eyes are closed and there is a blissful look on his face. One of my hands is gripping tightly to his coat, and the other is busily dropping snow down his neck.

Hmm. Maybe an interesting day isn’t as bad as I first thought….

*****

It was quiet in the house, and I could hear Connor’s nervous breaths as he lay over my knees. His warm weight was a solid reassurance that he was still alive, and I took a moment to savour that relief, my hand almost trembling as I stroked his backside soothingly before deciding it was unfair to draw this out any longer. Connor now knew what he’d done wrong, he’d apologised and was obviously feeling heavy guilt for it - he hadn’t even attempted any of his often far-fetched and even (secretly) amusing excuses this time. Now it was time to draw that guilt out so he’d be back to the bouncy - if hopefully slightly more cautious Connor I knew and loved.

Flashback

It’s no lie to say my heart actually skipped a beat when I found Connor was gone. Time seemed to move in slow motion as I spun frantically, looking for his dark head among the equipment and games in the closed bowling alley. I could see Abby, warily checking a back corner for any sign of creature activity, and Steven on the opposite side. There was no sign of Connor.

I tried to persuade myself to keep calm – the lad was resourceful. He was a walking encyclopaedia of dinosaurs and a fount of obscure knowledge that had saved our lives on more than one occasion. He’d fought off giant spiders and a winged Pterandon. I’d have heard him if he was in any trouble – the one thing Connor wasn’t was silent. But even while my rational voice was trying to convince me of the lack of danger, an inner core of panic was running through me.

“Connor!” I bellowed; both Abby and Steven looked up but Connor didn’t appear from behind an arcade game as I’d hoped.

“What’s up?” Steven asked, the tension clear in his voice.

“He’s gone.” I was aware my own voice was less than calm as I snapped out a reply. “Did either of you see where he went?”

“I last saw him over there,” Abby called back, pointing with her gun.

Without another word I jogged off, heading out of the bowling abbey and into the main shopping mall. Rounding the corner I felt the tension leave me as if an actual weight had come off my shoulders at the sight of that beloved lanky form, safe and ambling back towards me as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Connor grinned when he spotted me, his dimples appearing in the smile that always makes me go weak at the knees.

As soon as he was close enough I grabbed him in a fierce hug, and Connor immediately relaxed into my hold, looking surprised but happy.

“What’s brought this on?” he asked. “You’re usually all with the ‘Not while we’re at work, Connor’. Not that I’m complaining, mind, you can grab me whenever you want, but - ”

I’ve found from experience that the best way to shut Connor up when he’s on a roll is with a kiss. This one was fierce but brief as I was conscious of the danger of a dinosaur on the loose somewhere in the mall. And as I became conscious of something hard and cold pressing into my back as Connor returned the embrace.

“What the..?” I pulled back to see what my lover was holding, taking the large plastic cup from him to examine it more closely. The label proclaimed it to be a ‘Mr Slushy’.

“You can have a sip if you want,” Connor said cheerfully, completely oblivious to my growing anger. “I decided on the blue one in the end.”

I couldn’t believe he’d gone off in the middle of a hunt for a deadly raptor to get himself a slushy. Words literally failed me.

“Nick?” Connor asked uncertainly, beginning to sense that there was something wrong as I carefully refrained from saying any of the choice words in my mind. I knew I’d only regret it later if I lost my temper. Despite his outwardly blasé appearance, Connor was deeply insecure, and, as I had found out to my cost in the past, yelling at him solved nothing. It only made him anxious and upset and me feel guilty. He needed to be shown that he’d done wrong, punished but then reassured he was forgiven for it, or he’d only brood. And a brooding Connor led to trouble. Which had led to our unique but successful little arrangement. But first I seriously needed to calm down, and we needed to get out of danger and finish the job before talking things through.

Anything I would have said was cut off as I caught sight of movement over Connor’s shoulder. Talk about bloody timing.

“Connor, it’s the raptor – run!” I yelled, sending him on his way with a hearty push. He hesitated for a moment and then obeyed while I fumbled for my gun. It jammed and I swore, but there was no time to sort it out now and with a roar of frustration I threw first the gun and then the plastic cup I was still holding full force at the advancing dinosaur.

The raptor shrieked as the lid came off and it was showered in icy slush, and I took the opportunity to run after Connor, yelling for Steven to lower the security barrier. I could see the metal lowering as I sped towards it, could see Connor’s anxious face as he fidgeted just inside the secure area, could hear claws slipping on the shiny floor behind me. I slid under the barrier just in time as it slammed down and an enraged raptor crashed into the metal.

“Whew!” Connor grinned as I got shakily to my feet. Sometimes I wondered if I wasn’t getting too old for this. “Good job you spotted it, eh?”

End flashback

With one final soft pat I drew my hand back, to land with a resounding smack on Connor’s naked backside. He twitched and drew in a shocked breath, but I didn’t give him any more time to react, laying down a fast series of heavy smacks. By the end of this there was going to be no doubt on his part that he had paid for his sins. The pale skin soon began to pinken, then to turn a deeper red. My hand began to smart, and from the wiggling and the small whimpers Connor was making there was no doubt it was hurting him as well. This was the most severe spanking I’d ever given him, but this was also the first time he’d risked his life on a whim. He’d been in danger before, but then it had been unavoidable. Hopefully after this he’d know not to wander off without a care when we were tracking a dangerous predator.

“Nick!” he called out, almost begging. “I’m sorry, please stop, I won’t do it again!”

“I hope you won’t, lad, or you’ll definitely live to regret it,” I replied, udging his bottom up higher with my knee and carrying on spanking. At last, when the pain in my hand became fiery and Connor had subsided into a penitent sobbing heap I stopped. Gently I helped him up; it took him a moment to realise the punishment was over, then he scrambled up rapidly, clinging to me as he cried.

“Sssh, Connor, it’s okay, it’s over now,” I soothed, glad for both our sakes that that was over. I hoped like hell I’d never have to spank him that hard again. I hated to see him hurt, but better this way than permanently damaged by a dinosaur – or even dead.

I held him tighter. No way was that going to happen to Connor. I was convinced he’d be more careful from now on, now he knew how important his safety was to me. My love, my life. I gently kissed the top of his dark hair and rocked him as we comforted each other.

********

When soldiers are training they have to learn to march 23 miles in five hours at full pace and with full gear, to jump ditches, to swim, to fight with double-weighted wicker shields and wooden swords, and to throw double-weighted javelins. Training is carried out in summer and in winter.

Only the best is good enough for the Empire’s Army.

I might no longer be a Captain but I still maintain my fitness, and when I came to Healers’ Hall I instituted a full training programme to ensure all guards are in the best of shape as well. Attacks usually come at the most unexpected times; it’s necessary to ensure you are always ready for them. So each day every guard (including myself) runs laps of the exercise yard, has a practice bout if other people are available, and throws ten javelins at the wooden practice stakes.

That day I was running late due to a small administrative disaster, and the exercise yard was empty when I finally made my way there. I soon ran my twenty laps, and, warm despite the gentle rain, stripped to the waist and grabbed the heavy wooden javelins.

I threw several javelins one after the other, pleased at the way they all found their way to the wooden stake. Practice really does make perfect. I could feel the gentle burn of muscles working to their optimum, and I paused to stretch and fetch back the sharp spears, ready to throw again.

I caught sight of a face watching from the covered pavilion and knew who it was without having to look too closely. Body tingling with adrenalin from the exercise and the thought of being watched, I enjoyed the last throws even more, almost posing before each shot and glimpsing the observer’s reactions from the corner of my eye with a secret smile.

I collected the javelins again, placing them back for the next guard to use, and strolled nonchalantly towards the pavilion; the watcher ducked behind a pillar, no doubt thinking themselves unseen. Laughing, I broke into a run and was on him before he could react, his eyes and mouth still wide with astonishment.

“You don’t need to hide, Jamie,” I grinned, forcefully manoeuvring the smaller man back against the pillar, my leg thrusting through his as he gasped, his hands clutching my damp, naked shoulders as his eyes closed at the sensations. “Knowing watching me makes you excited – makes me excited.”

I was usually careful to be gentle when we made love, but by the way my lover was writhing against me, his hard heat evident even through both our trousers, I could tell my roughness was only adding to his pleasure. His fingers scraped down my back as he tried to bring me impossibly closer, sucking on hollow of my neck before raising his mouth pleadingly to mine, a plea I was only too happy to answer as I kissed him fiercely and possessively. I roughly fumbled at the laces of our breeches with one trembling hand until our penises sprang free, and we both moaned as I hitched him higher, until both lengths were touching each other. I heard his head clunk back against the pillar with a thunk, but both of us ignored it as he wrapped his legs in a death grip around my waist, so both my hands were free to roughly fondle and stroke and clutch. It wasn’t long until we were both coming, and I leaned my weight into the pillar to support him as his legs sagged, our breathing fierce and heavy.

After several minutes I kissed him again, more relaxed this time, before pulling away with a smile. Jamie’s own shy but mischievous grin popped out. “I’ll never complain about exercise again,” he laughed. “Exercise the way you do it is most definitely fun!”