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Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar	By : Scribe Category: S through Z > X-Files Views: 1919 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the television series that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar

Chapter Eighteen
Breaking Chains
Connor ate dinner early. He knew he couldn't sit with Daniel without raising questions better left unspoken, and he didn't want to have to sit across the room and watch him. Oh, he wanted to watch him, all right. Connor thought he'd never get tired of looking at Daniel Ballard. But here, in the public room, he wouldn't be able to touch, and he felt that might just drive him mad.

Yarborough was due back in the early evg, ag, and Daniel was hoping to persuade him to go out. Connor got a seat at the bar in the hotel lounge where he could keep an eye on the front lobby. If they left, it would be simple enough ind ind out where they had gone. Cabbies in any country were notoriously easy to bribe. Then he'd just see if he could find a way to slip a bit closer to his Daniel. He thought it might be possible, if he were careful.

From what he'd heard from his new lover, his daddy liked to tease others with his toy. Of course, if Daniel acted like he enjoyed it, or batted an eyelash one time over the unspoken limit Andrew had set, he suffered. "I almost hate goingout with him now, and I used to have so much fun," Danny had sighed. "It just isn't worth the stress of constantly worrying whether I stand too close to someone, or smile at them two seconds too long."

Not really feeling like drinking, he ordered a cognac. He could sip that slowly without drawing attention to his pace. It was almost nine when Andrew and Daniel came down to the lobby. Connor gazed into his small balloon glass as if the secrets of the universe were swimming in the inch of amber liquid he swirled around its bottom.

He was acutely aware when Daniel passed by. There was no acknowledgment from Danny, and he didn't expect one. Andrew had a firm grip on his arm, guiding him to a table in the back.

Connor turned casually, as if watching a passing woman clad in a tight red sheath dress. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, but she was just an excuse for him to end up facing Daniel's table.

Andrew was busy givingtheir drink order to the waitress, and Daniel risked an unguarded look at Connor. He glanced quickly at the woman, looked back at Connor, and arched one brow derisively. Connor smiled, and shook his head.

When Andrew turned his attention back to his companion, Daniel was calmly eating cashews from the courtesy bowl provided for each table. Andrew didn't quite frown. "You should ease up on the carbs, Danny. You'll get fat as a pig."

"And then you'll throw me out." His tone was mildly sarcastic, but his eyes said If I thought that would work...

"Oh, no, Danny. Then I'll put you on a regime, like one of my horses--in training." Connor saw Daniel's hand clench over the bowl. The fingers slowly uncurled, releasing the few nuts he'd been about to eat, and Connor mentally cursed Yarborough. He meant it, the son of a bitch. He'd have Danny on short rations and a monitored exercise schedule.

A steady trickle of people made their way over to the table, most sitting for a few minutes, but they all concentrated on Yarborough. Danny was left sitting, morosely sipping his drink while the talk flowed over, past, and around him. It was insulting. He was being treated like a child brought along on an adult outing, expected to be silent and behave himself.

The band had been on break, but now they started playing. The music was lively, Latin. He seemed to recall that the Americans called it salse, after the spicy sauce. Daniel wanted to dance. A blind man could have seen that. His fingers tapped the table in rhythm. He shifted in his seat minutely, as if he were helpless NOT to react. Connor could almost feel the energy radiating off him. He had a feeling that Daniel in motion would be a beautiful thing.

But Andrew noticed the tiny movement, and laid a heavy hand on Daniel's arm, frowning. Ballard sighed, and went still, settling down to being ignored again. Connor found that he was gritting his teeth. He very carefully unclenched his jaw. He intended to get over to that table somehow, and it wouldn't due to let his hostility show. Daniel would be the one to suffer.

He got his chance when the twist in the red dress sauntered up to the bar to get another drink. It would have been much easier for her to wait at a table, but the sideways glance she gave Connor told him she had her reasons for taking the bother. And here's your ticket in, Connor m'lad.

She had been talking with Yarborough. Connor gave her his best smile, the one with the little extra crook at the corners. "Hello, darlin'." He also thickened his brogue.

"Hello yourself. I thought you looked familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I'm Connor Galbraith."

Her hand was small and soft when she gave it to him. Her fingers lingered on his palm a bit longer than was strictly polite. "June Craven. Are you sure we haven't met?"

"Hm, now let's see... It might have been at Ascot. No? Perhaps The Kentucky Derby? Maybe The Irish Nationals?"

"Are you part of the horsy set?"

"Darlin', I own Galbraith Farms. I've had a horse in each of the races I've mentioned."

She brightened. "Really? Isn't this a small world? I have a friend over there who raises thoroughbreds, also: Andrew Yarborough."

"Yrougrough, did you say? Now there's a man with a reputation." Though I'll not be sayin' what kind of reputation.

"Would you like to meet him?"

"I'd be pleased." Connor finished his drink and followed her over to the table, ostensibly keeping his eyes on the sway of her hips. Daniel didn't look up as he approached, but he plucked at a cocktail napkin, slowly reducing it to a pile of confetti.

Yarborough frowned at Connor, his eyes flicking quickly to catch his companion's reaction to the handsome man who'd just arrived. June burbled, "Andy! Look who I ran into! It's Connor Galbraith."

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. You'd think I was her cradle friend to listen to her. Yarborough nodded distantly, and June rolled her eyes. "You don't mean to tell me you don't recognize the name in YOUR business? Galbraith Farms,Ireland."

This sparked a bit of reluctant interest. "Yes? There have been some fine animals come out of those stables."

"Aye. Me personal favorite would be Morag's Faerie Queen." Which is true. I won near 100 pounds on the nag last year.

Andrew was nodding. "Good bloodline. That's very important. Of course, fine breeding doesn't necessarily assure a superior beast." He looked at Daniel, whose face slowly reddened. "This is my friend, Daniel Ballard." Daniel and Connor exchanged cordial nods. "Have a seat, Mr. Galbraith. Tell me, do you have any other interests besides horses?"

"To tell you the truth," Connor regretfully sat beside Andrew, across from Daniel, with June on his other side. "Me Da runs the farm. I'm more into me own business."

"And what would that be?"

"Oh, this and that. Mostly... distribution, and pharmaceuticals. Import, export."

Now Danny did look at him, sharply. Connor could see the switches clicking in his mind. Oh, he's 'cute one, is my Danny. Finally Danny sat back, head dipped slightly, and slipped a gaze at Connor, and Connor met him without flinching. There was no judgement in his eyes, and Connor felt a great weight lift. He'd been worried about how Danny would feel abouthis... enterprises.

Connor and Yarborough discussed racing for a bit. Since Connor had always fancied the ponies, he'd made a study of them, and could more than hold up his end of the conversation. As he spoke, he felt something touch his foot gently.

At first Connor ignored it, thinking that it was June being kittenish. But when he felt a small, warm hand on his knee under the table, he realized that the angle was wrong. No, that touch had to be coming not from beside him, but from across the table.

Again Daniel wasn't looking at him, but he was smiling faintly, and Connor could detect just the slightest of movements. He kept his eyes resolutely on Andrew Yarborough while June Craven massaged his leg, moving up to the inner thigh, and Daniel's foot softly stroked his calf. He started to get hard, and it wasn't because of June's more intimate manipulations. He hadn't thought that his lower leg could be an erogenous zone. It seemed that Danny might be able to teach him a thing or two.

Oh, be careful, me darlin'. It's a dangerous game your playin', with that shite sittin' right beside you.

Danny fished the maraschino cherry out of the dregs of his drink, holding it by the tip of the stem, and contemplated it, as if it held the secrets of the universe. He took the tiny red ball in his mouth and sucked on it softly, eyes downcast. Connor had to put his hands down at his sides and dig his nails into his palms, but he kept his expression bland. So, here's another side of you, Danny. You like to tease, do you? Well, I like to be teased. But rest assured, sweet boy, that you will make good on the promise that you're not speakin' out loud.

"For heaven's sake, Daniel! Eat the damn thing and get it over with."

Does the man have blood in his veins? Daniel dared a surly look at his older old, his old, I'm the new lover, and neatly nipped the cherry from the end of the stem, chewing slowly. "There are times, Daniel, when you are such a child."

Daniel's posture straightened, and his beautiful hazel eyes narrowed. Connor watched in fascination as they seemed to darken with anger. "Yeah, well, that's what you like, isn't it, Daddy?"

Yarborough flushed, his complexion going to a dusty brick shade. "Watch your smart mouth, boy!"

"But Daddy," there was a scornful twist to the title, "You like that too!" He looked at June, who had dropped her hand from Connor's leg, and looked stunned. "He's particularly fond of my smart mouth. Though he's too fucking impatient to let me really use any of my tricks."

Oh, Danny. Connor marveled. The mouse has turned and is biting the cat in the ass.

Andrew was puce now. "Danny! You're being an ass."

Daniel threw up his hands. "Whoops! Boy, lot of Freudian slips tonight, Uncle Andy! He likes my ass just as much as he likes my mouth. Of course he's just as fucking insensitive... I mean, it's wasted on him. The only time the man tries to make it last is if he's sure he's causing me enough discomfort."

"Daniel!" But Daniel was beyond stopping now. All the loneliness, humiliation, and physical and psychic pain had finally come to a head. He'd been trying to numb his feeling for so long, telling himself that it was the price he paid for survival. Now the beautiful, sweet man across the table, watching him with those shining green eyes, had showed him a little of what life could be like.

Everything he'd been keeping bottled up just came gushing out, like the poison when you lance a festering wound. All three men were ignoring the little socialite in the red dress, who sat in stunned silence, imagining the stories she was going to be able to tell later.

Daniel looked across at Connor. "Do you know what he does when he's awayfrom me for more than a few hours, and gets suspicious about whether or not I've been fucking around? He checks!" He spat the last word out, as if it left a foul taste in his mouth. "Hard, and without lube. Of course, sometimes Danny gets a little torn up when he does that."

Connor was gripping handfuls of the tablecloth. If Yarborough hadn't been so intent on the scene his lover was making, perhaps he would have realized the rising danger. "But that doesn't matter, does it? After all, Danny's nothing but a well compensated whore."

"And not even a good one," Andrew grated. "A good one keeps his mouth shut!"

Daniel's voice rose. Now he was flushed also. God, what a cliche, Connor thought, But he's beautiful when he's angry.

"Yeah, well a good one would get combat pay for dealing with a john like you!" He looked back to Connor. "You know, he wouldn't use a riding crop on one of his precious fillies, but me? He drew blood. All because I let the pizza delivery guy in. It was a fucking flood outside, and the guy delivered, and I just wanted to give him a cup of coffee before he went back out in the deluge! But one of the neighbors saw him come in, and Uncle Andy figured that if I had a man inside my place, then there had to be some fucking going on somewhere.
"

"I... maybe I should... I have to go." June, not a stupid woman, even if she was a bit unperceptive, left hurriedly. That was all right. Danny hadn't been talking to her, anyway. Other patrons had been looking, and now the bar staff was noticing, too. The bartender whispered to the waitress to go find that lazy cabron and get him in here to do his job.

"Of course what's just really unfair is that he doesn't hold the same standards for his wife as he does for his piece on the side. Oh, yes, he's married. Nice woman, actually. She deserves better, so she's getting it. That doesn't seem to bother old Andrew. I guess since she's past childbearing, and he doesn't have to worry about his bloodline being questioned. I say good for her. She deserves a little happiness--she's put up with him longer than I have. Daddy, did you know that Mommy offered a little to Sonny boy once? It was at the Christmas party just after you acquired me. Of course, she was drunk on her ass, and hadn't worked up enough courage to go find someone else, and, bless her, she really didn't KNOW I was your new fuck toy right then."

"Enough!"

Andrew lunged at Daniel, knocking him out of his seat, finally driven beyond his limits. As he hit the floor, with Andrew on top of him, and his hands around his throat, starting to squeeze, Daniel thought Oh, dear. Well, I've really done it now. He's going to kill me.

And perhaps Andrew might have. Oh, he didn't consciously intend to. He wasn't really capable of that much organized thought right then. He just wanted to shut Daniel up. If he could do that without killing him, then he could drag him back to the room, beat him so hard he'd feel it for a month, and then fuck him senseless in punishment. But Daniel might very well have died in the process. Daniel knew this, even if Andrew didn't.

But it wasn't fated. Daniel felt the familiar crushing weight lifted off of him. The hands were torn from around his throat, already tender from Andrew's assault the day before, and he drew in great, whooping gasps of air. In just that brief span, his vision had started to cloud. While he was doing this, the noises started.

He shook away the last of the frightening haze and sat up. There was pandemonium going on around him. He seemed to be the most peaceful person in the room. Guests were fleeing shrieking in either indignity or terror. This sort of thing was not supposed to happen at an exclusive, premium resort! But, much clearer than the other patrons' cries, he heard the heavy, meaty sounds of fist meeting flesh.

Andrew was trying to fight back. But he was a middle aged member of the American moneyed class, and he didn't stand a chance against an enraged Irish street fighter. He got in a couple of glancing blows, but Connor paid them no more mind than if Andrew had been giving him affectionate pats. He pummeled the older man mercilessly, driving blow after blow into his gut and ribs. He threw one solid punch to his chest that might have stopped his heart if he'd been a weaker man.

Connor Galbraith in a fighting frenzy was impressive, and frightening. There were times when he could fight with cold calculation, but he was defending and avenging his chosen mate now, and he was vicious. Andrew's good sense overrode his anger and hurt pride. His survival instinct kickedin, and he began to try to escape rather than fight. But Connor wasn't allowing that. He intended to have Andrew Yarborough.

And he fought in almost eerie silence. Most might have expected an Irish tough like Connor to make swearing a ritualistic part of his attack, but he was deadly focused, and didn't waste his breath.

When Yarborough finally collapsed, he started using his feet, driving them into the man's sides and against his head, wishing that he had the steel toed engineer boots that had served him so well in pub brawls. A rib snapped, then another.

"Con!" Connor dropped, straddling his victim. Gripping a handful of Andrew's greying hair, he lifted his head and smashed his fist into it. He grinned fiercely when he heard the crunch of cartilage, and felt the hot gush of blood from the shattered nose. It felt so good that he did it again. Andagain. And again.

"CON!" Someone had hold of him, shaking him. He drew back for another punch, and his arm was seized. He looked back angrily... into Daniel's panicked face. And hesitated.

His voice was shaky. "For you, Danny. For you."

"I know, Con. But you'll kill him."

"I want him dead."

"I know. But you can't. Please." Daniel could feel the tension in his lover, the tautness in that hard muscled arm, cocked back for another blow to the pathetic old man who lay helpless in his grip.

"Don't you want him dead, Danny? I'd do it for you."

Daniel bit his lip, staring at the man who had governed his life for the past five years, and made it a living hell. "No. Because then I'd lose you, Con." He stroked his lover's arm, and felt some of the tension ease out. "It's not because I want to keep him breathing. I've just found you. I don't want you in prison."

Slowly the arm lowered, though he still retained his grip in Yarborough's hair. He looked at Daniel intently. "You'll come with me, Danny." It was a statement. But then, his tone softer, more hesitant. "You will come with me?"

Daniel pressed his head to Connor's shoulder. "Yes, love." The smile that broke over Connor's face was the antithesis of the feral grimace he'd worn during the fight. It was bright, and sweet, and innocent. He kissed Daniel's hair, rubbing his face briefly in the soft tresses.

Then he turned his attention back to Yarborough. "You're still conscious, Yarborough? Good. We need to be clear on some things. I'm taking Danny. No," he corrected himself. "He's leaving you, you shite."

Andrew's voice was thick, clogged. "...prison... bastard... fucking life..."

"Oh, I hardly think so. There are plenty of witnesses who saw you attack Danny first. I was juefenefending him. I suppose you could TRY to make trouble, but I'd be very..." he shook Andrew's head, and the man yelped in pain, "...very angry with you."

"And Andrew?" Daniel leaned over him. His eyes, so warm when they looked at Connor, were icy. "If you're thinking about making trouble later, or coming after me? Just imagine the kind of fodder this little incident would give Aunt Bettina's divorce attorneys. You never did get a pre-nup agreement, did you? Oh, never mind "Jaws". they are the biggest fucking sharks in the legal sea. And if they asked nicely, I'd testify my ass off."

Connor released Yarborough, who dropped back limply. The dark haired man stood up, absently shaking his hand. Now that the adrenaline rush was fading, he knew he was going to suffer with the bruised and cut knuckles, but it had been worth it--infinitely satisfying. He held out his hand to Daniel. With a sweet smile, Daniel took it, and stood up into an entirely different life.
- 17
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Mission: Jaws of the Jaguar