The Life and Times of Davin McCord
By Rusty

Gavin sat hunched over his desk, his eyes fixed on the computer screen, his fingers tapping rapidly on the keys.  Once he had started typing, the words just seemed to flow through his fingertips.  He should have thought about doing this before. It was kind of like a journal. 

WHY, it was almost therapeutic!

The Life of Times of Davin McCord - Chapter One'. 

He had TONS of chapters he could write about. 

Of course he had NO intentions of using his own name, SOME things were private, after all. He sure as heck didn't want anyone he KNEW finding this story on the internet and....KNOWING it was HIM, for crying out loud! 

A friend had told him that using an alias was always a good idea, especially when posting stuff to the internet anyway.  Tris was a REAL writer for a newspaper in New York and he knew ALL about aliases and stuff like that.  It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to let him take a look at this story before posting it to the new story group he'd recently joned. Gavin figured Tris could probably give him a few helpful hints and fix some of the stuff that didn't make sense..... before he posted it to the group.  He didn't want to embarrass himself or anything.

"Hey stranger." Jack entered the den and leaned against Gavin's chair. "You've been hiding in here for two nights now."

Gavin grunted.

"It's eleven o'clock, buddy.  I think it's time to quit."

Gavin grunted again.

"Are you working on a new account or something?"  Jack peered over Gavin's shoulder.

Gavin didn't even bother grunting this time.

"Must be something big."  Jack moved a little closer.  "You haven't moved from that spot all evening.  It's eleven o'clock and you've barely spoken to me since you got home."

Feeling a bit guilty about that, Gavin glanced up at Jack, just for a second.  "I'm writing a story."

"Oh, I thought you were working." Jack looked over Gavin's shoulder, his eyebrows raised in question.  "What kind of story?"

Gavin shrugged his shoulders.  "Just a story about... us.  I'm changing the names though."
"Like a….romance novel?"  Jack asked, trying to read the words on the screen.

Gavin rolled his eyes.  "NO!"

"What? We aren't…romantic?"  Jack feigned a hurt expression.

Gavin smiled down at his keyboard.  "Oh, we're romantic most of the time."

Jack looked at the mess cluttering the desk-coke cans, papers-but didn't mention that.


"Here I've always thought that we were romantic all of the time."

Gavin snorted.  "The story I'm writing about is one of those…NOT so romantic times."

"Oh, I see!  You're going to post a story on that hanky spanky Yahoo group you've been talking about."  Jack shook his head.  "Gav, a person would think you'd have your fill of that in real life.  Can't figure out why you'd want to write stories about it."

"It's a Discipline Fiction group, Jack!" Gavin stopped typing and sent Jack a glare.  "Some of those stories are about people in relationships just like ours. Some of the people that write them are IN relationships just like ours too."

"How do you know that?"  Jack asked, still trying to read over Gavin's shoulder.

"Because I talked with some of them online."

"I see. Like that Herminie and Dick you were talking with the other night?"  Jack rubbed Gavin's shoulders and peeked a little closer.

Gavin rolled his eyes. "That's Hedeia and Dice, Jack!  They belong to that story group too, and they're writers.  I told you about their stories."

"I think it's great you're enjoying this, Gav.  Really I do."  Jack kissed Gavin's head; those warning bells that always went off when Gavin was becoming obsessed about something were ringing...LOUD.   "But I do think you need to set aside a certain amount of time to do it and not let it get in the way of your responsibilities here."

"I'm NOT!"

"Gav, you hibernated in here last night and tonight. You've barely spoken to me.  I did the dishes and the laundry and spent the rest of the evening alone. I thought you were working on a project this evening."

Yuk!! Guilt again!  Gavin hated when that happened!  

"I didn't come in here until after dinner. And I *never*  said I was working....."

"And it's after eleven now."  Jack brushed Gavin's hair with his hand.   "And it's bedtime.  You were up late last night, you could barely get out of bed this morning.  You can finish your story tomorrow." 

"I wasn't *that* bad this morning." 

"You were impossible this morning."

"Jaaack!  I'm on a roll here! I can't just stop now."  Gavin just kept typing as he whined.  "You can't control creative energy.  It comes….when it comes!"

"Well, yours can come again tomorrow." Jack pulled Gavin's chair back.  "After we do some things…like dinner, laundry and a few other things that we have to do in order to survive."

Gavin pushed his chair forward.  "I'll be up in a minute.  I really can't stop now.  I'm writing about…..well, about the time I got those parking tickets.  I'm already to the part where we're leaving the police station.  It won't take that much longer."

"I can't even begin to imagine why you'd want to remember anything about the events that followed after leaving the police station -l et alone write about them and post them for everyone to read."

"I told you, I'm changing the names."  Gavin sure didn't want anyone thinking it was really about HIM, for crying out loud.  How embarrassing!

"To protect the innocent?"  Jack pulled the chair back again. "Bedtime, buddy."

"It won't take much longer. I'll be up in a minute."

Jack reached his hand down and pulled the mouse from Gavin's, ignoring his sputters and complaints.

"JACK!  You're going to mess everything up!"  Gavin tried grabbing the mouse, but he wasn't quick enough.

"You are going to bed now.  You were up late last night and you have to be up early tomorrow."  Jack pushed the button, saving Gavin's story, and turned the computer off.  He closed the lid to the laptop. "Getting you out of bed this morning was unpleasant enough.  If I have to go through that again, I may strangle you."

"That is NOT fair."  Gavin jumped up off the chair.  "This is something that's important to me."

Jack flicked off the lamp on the desk. "I'm not telling you that you can't write stories and be a part of this group.  I'm only telling you that you're going to bed. Now. You can work on it again tomorrow."

"I might not feel as creative tomorrow.  I'm feeling creative right NOW!" Gavin crossed his arms, not moving from his spot.  He had no intentions of going to bed. 

"I bet Ernest Hemingway didn't have some …controlling Neanderthal bossing him about, telling him to go to bed when he was writing The Old Man and the SEA!."

From the look on Jack's face, Gavin didn't think Jack had much hope that his parking ticket story was going to be a Pulitzer Prize winner.  Well, an author had to start SOMEWHERE, didn't he?  Papa Hemingway COULD have started out writing M/M discipline stories.  It WAS a possibility!

"Gavin, if Papa Hemingway would've had a... controlling Neanderthal …bossing him about… he might not have suffered from liver disease.  Now, unless you'd like me to help you write chapter two of the life and times of Gavin McCourt, I'd suggest you march upstairs to bed.  Now! Because I'm not going to tell you again."  Jack pointed to the stairs.

Chapter TWO!  More like…Chapter 2000.  Regardless of the number, Gavin wasn't interested in adding to his already endless list of …story ideas.

"I *told* you I'm changing the names....  It's The Life and Times of Davin Mc....

When Jack made a move towards him, Gavin turned and fled.

"I'm going! I'm going!"


After putting the mower back in its place in the garage, Jack pushed in the door to the kitchen, and shook his head when he noticed the dishes from dinner were still in the sink. He washed his hands in the sink, then began cleaning up the dinner dishes, ignoring the sounds of the dryer buzzing from the basement.  He was NOT going to take those clothes out of the dryer.  He just wasn't going to do it! 

And if a certain green-eyed monster didn't move off his butt and get those clothes out of the dryer by the time he finished the dishes..........

Jack closed the dishwasher door and dried off his hands.  He threw the towel on the counter and started for the den. He took a deep breath and slowed his pace a bit.

He knew that Gavin was becoming obsessed with this writing thing.  Well, after this past week Jack figured it was already an obsession. He knew the signs.

Distracted. Distant. Disengaged. The Three D's were always a warning sign and usually caused the Fourth D:  Disaster!

Getting Gavin to bed had turned into an argument every night this week.  And once Jack did get him to bed, he figured Gavin lay awake for hours THINKING about writing, because he was next to impossible to get up the next morning. He barely sat through dinner and he apparently had no desire to do ANYthing around the house. 

And as exasperating as those things were becoming, Jack just.....missed him.  Talking to him.  It was kind of hard to carry on a conversation with someone when his only response was a grunt, if he even got that much.  It was quiet in this house without Gavin chattering.

"Gav, did you take the clothes out of the dryer?"  Jack asked, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Will in a minute."  Gavin muttered.  Why did Jack always have to bug him about stuff  …right when he and his muse were busy?  It was getting OLD! And annoying.

"Gavin, the buzzer on the dryer went off ten minutes ago.  The clothes are probably already wrinkled."  

"If you heard the buzzer, why didn't you take the clothes out?"  Gavin didn't turn around. He just kept on typing.

Jack's palms were itching.  "I put the clothes IN the dryer, Gavin.  You told me you'd take them out.  I haven't stopped since I got home from work. You've done nothing but stare at that computer."

Gavin turned his head around, looking extremely insulted.  "I've been writing! Not staring at the computer.  I had mails to answer and I have a chapter to finish."

"Yes. And you also have things that need to be done.  First.  Clothes need washed.  Dishes need done.  Rooms to be painted, trim that needs replaced."  Jack walked over and stood behind Gavin's chair.  "Do you think it's fair that I have to do it all?"

"You don't have to do it ALL."  Gavin didn't understand why everything had to be done NOW.  He could do those things another day.  "Just leave it and when I have a few minutes, I'll do my part."

"You've been saying that for days, Gavin."  Jack pulled Gavin's chair back and turned it around. "You've barely spoken to me all week.  You don't DO anything to help out around here.  This morning you threw a complete fit because the shirt you wanted to wear was still in the hamper and blamed *me* because it wasn't clean."

"I wasn't blaming you!  I still think we should send our laundry out though."  Gavin blinked up at Jack.  Perfectly serious.  "It would save us tons of time."

"What time?"  Jack threw his hands in the air.  "Gavin, we don't have that much laundry.  We send out our dress shirts to the cleaners anyway. Our house doesn't get that dirty.  We can do what needs to be done around here ourselves.  And we've always enjoyed remodeling the house together."

"I'll help out.  I'm just doing"  Gavin didn't think Jack was being fair at all.  He didn't see why they couldn't hire a cleaning person to help out around here.  What could it hurt?   "If we hired a cleaning person, we'd have more time to do stuff we want to do."

Jack looked up at the ceiling.  "Gavin, I'm glad you're enjoying writing these stories.  I really am.  But you cannot forget about everything else at their expense."

"I'm not…" Gavin started to defend …his obsession.

"Yes, you are."  Jack squatted down in front of Gavin and rested his hands on his knees.  "You've barely spoken to me.  You grunt answers to any questions I ask about your day and run to your computer as soon as you get home. You completely ignore Martha.  She had an accident on the floor in the kitchen, because you didn't even let her out while I was at the store."

"I haven't been ignoring you."  If Gavin allowed himself to think about that too long, he'd be feeling really guilty right about now.  And he HATED feeling guilty! He pushed that feeling back behind his muse.

"Yes, you have."  Jack forehead crinkled.  "And it's stopping today.  I've tried letting you work out a schedule for your writing on your own, but it's not working.  You are not going to ignore me.  You are not going to ignore the responsibilities you have here."

"I'm NOT!"

"Starting today, you can have one hour at your computer every evening. Between nine and ten.  You are going to take your turn fixing dinner, not bringing home Taco Bell.  You are going to help with the laundry, help clean up the kitchen and help with the remodeling….just like we've always done. And we are going to spend time together…talking….just like we've always done."

Gavin spread his arms out.  "Jaack!  A person can't schedule his MUSE like that.  You can't say to a MUSE…  'I'm sorry…but I can only listen to you between nine and ten o'clock.'  It doesn't punch a time clock."

Jack stood up and pulled Gavin from his chair.  "I'm afraid your muse is going to have to start punching one.  Now go down and get the clothes out of the dryer."

"Jaack, I'm....  OW! I'm going! I'm going!"


Scheduling a MUSE!  Who EVER heard of such thing anyway?  Hemingway didn't have to schedule HIS muse!  F. Scott or O'Neill!  Of course, THEY probably hadn't lived with a controlling Neanderthal either.

And he was NOT obsessing!

Gavin looked at the clock on his computer. 

Okay, so maybe he was a TINY bit obsessed. 

Sneaking out of bed at three o'clock in the morning and coming down here to write probably wouldn't be a very good argument against this Obsession Theory Jack had.  But THAT was ALL Jack's fault. He'd tried telling Jack every night this week that there just wasn't any way that a guy could schedule his MUSE between nine and ten o'clock. 

GOD, if that Tolstoy guy had only written War and Peace between those times, he'd STILL be writing it!

Gavin had never read War and Peace but he HAD read somewhere that it was pretty long. 

And he hadn't been ignoring Jack either.  Had he?  Of course NOT!  He'd NEVER do that!

Gavin cringed a little when he thought about what Jack would do if he woke up and found him missing.    He had plenty of story ideas.  He didn't need to add to it.  Just a few more lines and he'd sneak back to bed.  His fingers started typing again.

Jock entered the room and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
"Davin, WHAT are you doing?"

"Gavin, WHAT are you doing?"

Gavin jumped, turning around on his chair, his eyes wide.  "GOD, Jack, you scared me."

"Not enough, apparently." 

Gavin chewed on his lip.  "I...had a dream, see.  It was about my story and I th..."

Jack jerked his hand up over his shoulder, his thumb pointing to the stairs. 


Gavin squirmed a little as he sat on the barstool and fumed a bit.  He was tired and grumpy and he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate at work at ALL. He might as well not even GO to work this morning. And it was ALL Jack's fault. 

He was a grown man, for crying out loud, and if the MUSE called he figured that he should be able to answer it, no matter WHAT time it was.  This ...only writing between nine and ten o'clock business was ridiculous!

He lifted his eyes and looked at Jack from across the counter, intending to send him a glare.  That would SHOW him!

But he just couldn't work up a really good glare after seeing how tired Jack looked this morning. 

Feeling a little guilty, Gavin squirmed on his stool again and...... THAT reminded him that his bottom still stung from what Jack had DONE to him last night.  Or early this morning, depending on how you looked at it.  Being spanked at three o'clock in the morning was....BARBARIC!!  And the WAY he'd had carried on ...GOD...he'd was surprised he hadn't woken up the whole neighborhood.  He was sure that nosey Ethel Masterson from next door had to have heard every yelp! The old bat had sonar ears.  Those hearing aids she wore probably had surround sound or something. 

And he wasn't obsessed either.  He WASN'T!  

Well.....maybe he wasn't exactly doing his fair share of stuff around here. OKAY, so he KNEW he hadn't been doing his fair share.  He did know that when he became a little ....focused ...NOT obsessed ....but focused on stuff, he tended to get a little..... disconnected with most everything else. Writers in general probably had the tendency to DO that, he figured.  

Gavin did feel a little bit guilty about Jack feeling ignored.  He hadn't REALLY been ignoring him......had he? 

Of course NOT!  Jack was just acting crazy.

It was a well known FACT..... that the lovers of famous writers in history had a predisposition to be a little....well, flaky.   He'd read about stuff like that.

Why...take Zelda, for instance!  F. Scott's tendency to become.....focused.....had probably left poor Zelda feeling ignored and THAT was what had probably driven the poor woman straight to the loony bin!  Gavin tensed at the little pang of panic THAT thought caused.  He SURE would hate for his and Jack's love story to end in the same way F. Scott's and poor Zelda's had. Then he relaxed again. 

Jack would *never* allow *that* to happen to them!

"I'm sorry."  Gavin propped his elbows on the counter. 

Jack smiled.  "I know that you're sorry.  I'm just not quite sure *what* you're sorry about.  Sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night or.... getting caught sneaking out of bed."

"Jack, I did GO to bed when you told me to earlier.  You never said anything about STAYING there."

Jack stood up and started clearing the breakfast dishes.  "Considering how close you came to getting spanked before you finally did make it to bed.....the *first* time, I really didn't think I'd have to tell you to *stay* there.  My mistake.  Next time I'll spank you the first time.  It tends to do wonders for your ability to see the big picture."

"Oh, I see the big picture all right!  It's.... Predisposition."

"Predisposition?"  Jack couldn't wait to hear this.

"Yes.  Writers in general have a tendency to select partners with a predisposition to be...well, a bit flaky?  Look at Hemingway, he was married TONS of times, probably because all of his wives couldn't take Ernest's ....focus.... on his writing.  And F. Scott's ...focus.... on his writing is what probably drove poor Zelda right over the edge.  And look at O'Neill's Carlotta; she was supposed to be kind of whacked too."

"Uhh, well, I don't know much about that, although I do believe all of those writers you mentioned tended to be a bit....flaky themselves."  Jack rubbed his forehead. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"You're feeling ignored because of my writing and it's making you ....difficult." Gavin held his hands out, palms up, and shrugged.  Poor Jack.  He was showing definite

"Gavin, what does writing spanking fiction, as a hobby, have to do with those authors anyway?  You own a marketing and advertising agency."

Gavin stuck his nose in the air.  "It's called Discipline Fiction, Jack!  And writing is writing!  I like doing it."

"I'm glad you enjoy it, Gav.  I'm not saying you can't do it at all.  I'm just saying that you aren't going to forget about everything else at its expense."

"I won't!"  Gavin decided that Jack just needed some reassurance from him. He wasn't going to fail the way F. Scott had failed Zelda.   "I promise you, Jack, my writing won't get between *us*."

Jack nodded his head.  "I'm glad you feel that way. And *I* can promise you that your writing will never get between *us* either."

"Yeah, I already figured that out."  Gavin knew that he could count on Jack never to let THAT happen.

"I can also promise you that it's not going to get in the way of any of your other responsibilities."   Jack started loading the dishwasher.  "And if I catch you sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night again, what happened last night will pale in comparison, believe me."

Gavin DID believe him.  He didn't want to have to go through THAT again.

WHAT?  Did Jack think he was CRAZY or something?  Jack was the flaky one in this relationship. Not HIM!  Funny how he'd never noticed Jack's Zeldaisms before now.

"I WON'T do that again, I SWEAR!"

"I hope not. Until you can schedule this hobby without letting it interfere with everything else, I'll schedule it for you.  Between nine and ten o'clock.  Only."

Gavin saw that LOOK on Jack's face.  It was his "determined" look.  He didn't figure he'd get Jack to budge on the 9:00 to 10:00 thing right now.  Well, maybe he could schedule a little more writing time at work. What Jack didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

"Gavin, do you understand?"

"Yes, Jack, between nine and ten o'clock." Gavin tried looking convinced.

"Only." Jack cocked one eye.

Gavin figured he'd better be careful how he responded to that one. 

"Yeah, in the *evenings* .....*only*  between nine and ten o'clock."

Jack dried his hands on a towel, before heading for the stairs to finish getting ready for work, he stopped in front of Gavin's stool and kissed him on the nose. 

"Thank you."  Jack said, then kissed him on the lips.  "I love you. We'd better finish getting ready for work."

"I love you too." 

Gavin pushed himself off the stool and followed Jack up the stairs.  If he had to work over a bit each evening at the office, what could THAT hurt?  Then he and Jack could spend their evenings together doing the stuff they had always done. Together.

Being with Jack was always Gavin's first choice anyway.

This was a perfect solution. Jack HAD been right!  F. Scott HAD been a little flaky too.  He should have thought up a simple solution like that for him and Zelda.
Gavin walked through the kitchen door and smiled at seeing that the table was set and his favorite dishes ...macaroni and cheese, broccoli and cheese, and beef tips, were sitting on the stove. 

"Hi."  Jack turned from the sink and greeted Gavin with a kiss. He took the briefcase from Gavin's hand, sat it on the counter and kissed him again.  A little longer. 

"You made all my favorites."  Gavin kissed Jack again. 

"You've been working over so much, I decided to make a special dinner."

Guilt pangs! Ugh! 

"Oh, you didn't have to do that.  You've had dinner ready every night this week. It's only seven o'clock.  I could've cooked something tonight."

"Hey, don't worry about it. Your favorite foods aren't all that hard to make." Jack laughed.  "And you've taken over on my nights to cook when I've had to work late. Wash up, everything's ready."

More guilt. Double ugh!  Gavin decided he was going to have to stop 'working over' in order to write his stories.  Soon. He had another story idea to write and as soon as that was done, he WAS going to stop.  He WAS going to. 

He was NOT obsessed.  He WASN'T!

They sat down at the table and Jack started telling Gavin about his day.  Gavin listened, feeling guiltier by the second.  His macaroni tasted awful and Jack had made it just the way he like it.  Guilt tampered with the taste buds. 

"What about your day?" Jack asked, filling Gavin's plate with more tasteless macaroni.   "Things must be picking up.  I know things have been slow lately, so this is a good sign." 

Things were STILL slow.  But Gavin couldn't very well say that, now, could he?  He really needed to be out looking for new clients.  But he'd been so distracted lately.  Jeff had even mentioned that very thing today.  

He wasn't obsessed.  WAS he?

Of course NOT!

Gavin mumbled.  "Things will start picking up now, I think."

Jack smiled. "Hey, you're the best marketing and ad man out there.  I knew that would happen."

Gavin gave Jack a weak smile. 

"You look really tired."  Jack smiled back at Gavin.  "How 'bout we curl up on the couch after dinner and watch a movie, then make it an early night?"

"Yeah, sounds like a plan."  Gavin decided that sounded like a really good plan.  He wouldn't even write between 9:00 and 10:00 tonight.  THAT should prove that he wasn't obsessed!


Jack sat at the kitchen counter searching the newspaper for the list of movies playing in the theaters. Gavin had called to say he'd be a little late getting home again this evening.  He'd been working so hard the past week and a half, Jack figured they should do something fun tonight.  Spiderman was playing and he knew how much Gavin had been looking forward to seeing that.  There was a 9:00 showing, and it was Friday, so he figured that wouldn't get them home too late, even if Gavin was a little tired from working. The relaxation would do him good.

The phone rang and Martha started barking.  Jack brought his fingers to his lips and made shushing sounds before picking up the receiver.


"Hey, Jack.  It's Jeff.  Is Gavin around?" 

Since Jeff was Gavin's business partner, Jack thought it kind of odd that he didn't know Gavin was working.  Hadn't Jeff been helping Gavin out any?

"He's still at work, Jeff."

"Oh, that's odd.  It's 6:30.  I left early today; had a meeting with a potential client.  I thought maybe Gavin and I could get together for a couple of hours tomorrow and toss around some ideas."

"Tomorrow's Saturday.  He's worked over so much this past week or so, I was kind of hoping to get him to relax some."

Jeff laughed through the receiver.  "What's he been working on?  Things have been so slow the past couple of months, there couldn't be a pencil left to sharpen."

Jack frowned, a bit confused. Just a bit.  He had a feeling.....

"Things haven't been picking up the past couple of weeks?"

"Well, I've been out trying to drum up some business.  Have a couple of good bites, I think.  It's just this recession thing, nothing to worry about.  But Gavin's been so distracted the last couple of weeks.  I can't seem to get him moving and that's just so  not like him, you know?"  Jeff laughed again.  "I think he's writing his autobiography or something; *not* that he's let me read it. I'm telling you, Jack, he's had a terrible time staying focused on anything else." 

"Autobiography?  That's..... interesting."  Jack's eyes narrowed; his nostrils flared.  "What time do you want him there tomorrow?"

"Tell him we can meet at the office in the morning, maybe around 9:00.  I figure if we sit down, hash this out, it should only take a couple of hours and then we'll have the rest of the day free."

"He'll be there."  Jack didn't mention that Gavin probably wouldn't be ABLE to SIT down to hash this out. He didn't figure that would be a problem though.  

Gavin could just hash it out ....standing up.


Gavin crouched over his computer, typing the words to his latest tale in the continuing saga of the Life and Times of Davin McCord.  He was going to quit and go home after finishing this one section. It was Friday and he wanted to get home to Jack; maybe they could do something fun this evening.
* *
Jock looked at Davin across the table.  "Why did you lie to me?"

Davin looked up at Jock, giving him that…you must be CRAZY… look. 

"Because…you would have been mad about the car payment being late.  You KNOW you would have been."

"So you thought lying about it would make me LESS mad.  Yes, that makes perfect sense."

"I really was going to mail it today.  I just forgot."  Davin's eyes shifted down to look at his plate.  "But I didn't really lie when I said it was mailed. If I would have mailed it on the way to work…it would have only been an…untruth by just a few minutes."

"It's called a LIE, Davin.  You know that's something I'll never tolerate for any reason."

BOY, wasn't that the truth, Gavin thought to himself.  Lying was NEVER tolerated. Poor Davin! Deep in thought and feeling very sorry for Davin, Gavin didn't notice he wasn't alone in the office anymore.

"Working hard?"  Jack asked from the doorway to Gavin's office.

Gavin jumped, nearly tilting over his chair. 

"GOD, Jack, you scared me to death!  I didn't think anyone was here."

"Yes, it does seem pretty quiet around here."  Jack leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms.  "As busy as you've been the past week or so, it seems a little unfair that Jeff hasn't been more....helpful?  Doesn't it?"

Gavin sat back in his chair and eyed Jack.  Very carefully.  He had a feeling this wasn't a social call. 

"Uhm, well, some things....Jeff just can't help with... much, you see?"

"Yes, I see.  It would be kind of hard for Jeff to help you with....let's say....your autobiography?"

Gavin swallowed hard.  "Autobiography?"

"Jeff called the house looking for you and mentioned you were working on it.  No, Jeff probably couldn't help you with that." Jack rubbed his chin. "But...  I could help. Who knows you better than I do?  And I have *plenty* of ideas for stories.  Don't you think?"

Gavin thought that Jack had REALLY already done enough to help him with ideas for his stories.  Why, MOST of his ideas had come from Jack.  From the look on Jack's face, Gavin had the feeling a new story idea was in the making.  And it was going to be the War and Peace of story ideas! 

Really LONG.  And really hard to take!

"I WAS working.  I just never said....WHAT I was working on, you see?"

"Gavin, have you ever heard of lying by omission?"  Jack cocked a brow.  "I *know* that you have, because we've discussed it detail ......many times before.  You've been lying to me for over a week!"

"It wasn't really lyi.....OKAY."  Gavin changed tactics as soon as he saw Jack do the...'nostril flare'.  "I KNEW it was wrong.  I knew you'd be upset if you found out. And I did.....feel really bad about it. I DID!  But I....just couldn't seem to......" 

"Stop yourself. Yes, I know."  Jack pushed himself away from the doorframe and walked around Gavin's desk, pulling him up from his chair by the arm.  He opened the desk drawer and grabbed an old wooden ruler before he began pulling on him again.

"I promised you that this new obsession that you have about writing was not going to get in the way of any of your other responsibilities."

Gavin's eyes went wide at the sight of that ruler.  "JACK, we're in my OFFICE!"

Jack continued pulling Gavin along with him and sat down in the straight back chair that stood in the corner of the office. He pulled Gavin between his knees and started unbuckling his belt.

"JACK, you can't!  NOT HERE!"  Gavin squawked; he was already starting to sob, but he didn't try to get away.

Jack unbuttoned Gavin's pants and let them fall to his knees.   "I also remember getting a promise from you that you'd only write between 9:00 and 10:00 in the evening until you could schedule your time without forgetting about everything else at its expense." 

"I KNOW!  Can't we...go home first..... JACK, you CAN'T......"

Apparently he could.  Jack pulled Gavin over his knees and kept RIGHT on with his PULLING obsession by pulling down his shorts until they joined his pants at his knees. Holding on to the small of Gavin's back with one hand, he brought that damned ruler up and then brought it down with a CRACK right on Gavin's butt, right there in the OFFICE, for crying out loud!

"And I also *know* for a *fact* that you know what lying will get you!"

Jack didn't have much to say after that. Apparently he thought that the ruler would get his point across just fine without adding anything verbal to it.   And it DID!  This made War and Peace seem like one of those little Harlequin romance novels Jack's mom liked to read. 

And it went on much longer than anything good old Tolstoy could've conjured up in his overactive imagination.   Gavin completely forgot about being at the OFFICE.  He howled with every crack of that damned ruler.  LOUD!

Gavin kicked his legs in scissor motions and wiggled frantically trying to avoid each crack of that ruler.  He tried covering his butt with his hand, which was always a mistake; it only earned him a few swats on the thigh. That nearly caused him to shoot off Jack's lap like a torpedo; he placed both palms on the floor to keep from flying away. As much as he wanted to find a way out of this position right now, he knew flying off Jack's lap wasn't the answer.  Jack would probably just start over from the beginning; the thought of that was enough to keep him right where he was. His pleas and promises fell on deaf ears.  Jack didn't stop until he was blubbering and even then he didn't stop until Gavin could hardly get his breath.

Gavin lay over Jack's knees, his shoulders shaking with those hiccupy sounds he usually got after a War and Peace spanking.  Jack let him stay there for a few seconds more and then gently lifted him up.  Gavin slid between his knees, wishing they were at home, on a chair that had enough room for him to cuddle in Jack's lap.

"I'm...sorry."  Gavin hiccupped.  He lay his head on Jack's knees.  "I did…feel bad about it...I just..."

"It's okay.  It's over." Jack pulled Gavin's face up and wiped the tears from his face.  "I know how you get when you're obsessed with something."

"I won' anymore. I promise.  I'll never...write again."  

"You don't have to stop writing, Gav."  Jack started that pulling business again, only this time Gavin didn't mind.  He pulled Gavin up and on to his lap on the chair, which was much too small for the both of them, and pulled again until his head rested on Jack's shoulder.

"I'm never writing again."  Gavin wiped his nose on Jack's shirt.

"Yes, you will."  Jack rubbed Gavin's back.  "Between nine and ten o'clock.  Only.  At least until you can schedule it better on your own.  But you won't be doing even that for a while.  I can think of a few things around the house you'll be busy with for the next couple of weeks. You have a lot of chores to make up for."

Gavin groaned.  He had a lot of dinners to make up for too.  "I'm sorry.  I'll cook every night, all of your favorite foods."

Jack smiled and kissed him on the head. "And Gav, you had better be home by 6:00 every night.  Unless you have a note from Jeff."

Gavin lifted his head up; his watery eyes went wide.  "JACK, I can't ask Jeff to do THAT!  How would I explain it?"

Jack patted Gavin's still bare thigh. He wondered how long they would sit here before Gavin started squawking about being depansted in his office. 

"I'm sure Jeff will understand. Just tell him we're working on your focusing problem."


Jack was sprawled out on the floor watching television, his head resting on his hand.  Gavin was spooned in the crook of Jack's body.  Martha, never wanting to be left out, was spooned into Gavin's. 

Jack kissed Gavin's ear.  "Dinner was great tonight.  All of my favorites.  Thank you."

Gavin turned his head and smiled.  "I told you I'd make it up to you.  I'm fixing everything you like, every night for the next week."

Jack chuckled. "I could get used to that."

"Well, you can get used to it ....for a week, anyway."

Jack started nibbling at Gavin's ear again.  Liking the feeling, Gavin turned over on his back.  He looked up at Jack.  He liked the look he saw there even more.

"You know, since I won't be writing for a while, I think I'll use this time to do a little research."

"Uhmm...well, I don't think you need to do much more research for writing spanking fiction, Gav. I'd say you have enough information to last a lifetime."

"I TOLD you, it's Discipline Fiction, Jack! Discipline Fiction!"  Gavin wrapped his arms around Jack's neck.  "But I'm talking about the......romance part of it.  I'm sure you wouldn't mind researching that.

Jack grinned; he wrapped his legs around Gavin's.  "No, there can never be enough romance research. I'd be willing to help you out with that."

Gavin wiggled some under the weight of Jack's body.  "I thought you would."

Martha stood up when the wiggling started.  She glared over at her boys, who seemed to be completely unaware that they were distracting her from her nap.  Every time they ended up on the floor they started that funny business.  She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed.  Humans.  They had perfectly good beds and they NEVER used them.  She trotted over to her bed and climbed in, shutting her eyes fast.

There were SOME things a young girl just shouldn't SEE!