“And because you lead the best team in the world for this.” Johann reminded Balfour with a boyish grin. “Glad that something good has come out of the dragon business, though.” He thought aloud. “Though you will be careful won’t you?” He wore a genuinely concerned expression. “I’ve only just got over your last visit[1] to St Mungo’s.”

Much as he had got up to amusing mischief while Balfour’s eyes were sightless in March (and paid for it with wine to get Isla out of indefinite detention with Ignan) he had spent nights clung to him, and followed his treatment to the letter with a pile of reading and research to be sure. Balfour being unwell was generally a rare time, but Johann hated every moment. He wasn’t a natural caregiver, and it had been a steep learning curve, being in a relationship. As self-centred his concerns often were, it pained him more to see Balfour in any discomfort. If home alone in Atreus, he would make more frequent passes of the Spectre family clock, if he wasn’t stationed nearby it, to be sure of any movement towards mortal peril.

He had dropped from his elbows to lying flat on the floor with the cats pinning him down. He lifted his hands gently to their fur, trying to ensure they had equal attention. Last thing he wanted was one to get jealous and sink claws into a sensitive area.

“So if there’s cubs,” Johann mused aloud, “there must be a breeding pair?” He looked to Balfour curiously, “and are the others going out round the world?”

1.	1st March, Help I’m Alive

"As careful as can be," Balfour reassured his lover as he reached out to play with one of many dark curls splayed against the rug, "I promise. No unnecessary risks if I can help it." Something in his chest ached at seeing Johann's concern - and at being reminded of the incident in March. Being without sight, not to mention robbed of seeing that beautiful face, was not a pleasant experience. Odin, it had been hellish.

He reached out to steal one hand from the cats nestled against Johann's chest, bringing it to his lips. Each knuckle received a soft and unthinking kiss. Lachesis - as if affronted by this - hopped off his shoulder and strode away to curl up beneath the coffee table.

Although it had not been even a year since they met at Le Masque, Balfour felt like he and Joh had been through so much. It wasn't, in any sense, a conventional love story: there had been secrets, death, crimes, a murderess, beasts. All manners of obstacles and catalysts that only made their time together all the more precious. And now this news of Ira dying....

            "So if there’s cubs, there must be a breeding pair? and are the others going out round the world?"

Maybe it was the timing of Joh's questions colliding with Bal's own thoughts but he instantly pictured a pair of Nundu beasts with a brood of wee cubs somewhere in the Tanzanian savannah, and the image melted his already squishy heart. He squeezed Johann's hand, affectionate.

"I think so. The Americans and Australians are in the middle of putting together teams as well," he replied nonchalantly before making a thoughtful little sound. With Ira gone the idea of raising their own family didn't seem like too reckless a possibility. "How many did we say we wanted? Cubs of our own?" Balfour's smile spread into a teasing grin, which he hid behind his partner's hand as he kissed it again.

“A house-full, I believe I said… naively…” Johann replied, his relaxed tone indicated that all thought of the original conversation topic had fled from his mind. Being laid on the floor, barefoot, sat upon by cats and gazing up at the eyes of the one person in the world who made everything worth the struggle grounded everything in reality. It was a reminder of what they had even in the shadow of Ira Almasy, and with Balfour’s question, what might be gained without her.

“My newest cousin is due to arrive any day[1] and little Cam is already here, so we’ll need to up our babysitting game.” Johann suggested, “I’ve mastered feeding the menagerie, so I feel it’s safe to move up to the human game.” At the mention of food, paws upped and trod across him, heading hopefully in the direction of the kitchen, and lying on the floor on the way, Whiskey’s ears pricked.

“And there’ll be a whole new set of things when we move to Edinburgh.” Johann added, thoughtfully, squeezing Balfour’s hand in return. “I’m not stalling, I …” he sighed, “we’ve been together seven months and until we know one or both of us aren’t going to end up on the wrong side with…” He pressed his lips together and gave Balfour an apologetic look. “Many.” He resolved, “As soon as we’ve got our shit together enough to be the parents we want to be.”

1.	Gabrielle and Francis’ daughter is born on the 29th

His smile widened into a low, happy laugh at the idea of filling the entire estate manor with their own family. It was surreal to imagine - so distant his mind and heart had been from such things before Johann came into his life. There were little stepping stones along the way of course; practical and sweet ones of which his lover reminded him. The symmetry between them, that both he and Joh would be welcoming bairns into their respective extended families, was a pleasing one.

       "Mm, humans are the wilder ones." Balfour remarked as he eyed the cats trampling off in anticipation of their dinner.

His hand was squeezed, attention turned back to Johann. Ever the realist. He wouldn't have it any other way: they had both exercised so little caution in their lives before but they could not afford to do so - at least not to the same extent - if they had young ones depending on them.

The two wizards had resolved, hadn't they, to be better parents than their own fathers?

"Aye," Bal agreed - he brushed his lips against Johann's hand one more time and then released it before shuffling forward slightly to steal a kiss the other man's mouth instead. "I know, I know. I don't want to rush into it either," he reassured, leaving little space between their lips.

A single meow from the kitchen set off a soft chorus, which he ignored for just a little longer. "I just... I like to think about it. About us. What an adventure it's all going to be." And how he wouldn't dare it with anyone else. Balfour finally pulled away and pushed himself off the floor to sit up, "I'd better feed them, or we won't have any peace."

Just there, right at that moment, their lips so close their breath mingled as they considered a family of their own, Johann wanted to remember. To capture in entirety in his mind’s eye of how his heart felt light, and his back forgot the floor. He’d forgive which ever furry bastard it was in the kitchen who punctuated it, for cats were temporary and he and Balfour were not. This would join a handful or more of other moments already saved, they were rich.

He let Balfour get up from the floor to feed the cats and studied the jellyfish on the ceiling a moment, their warm fuzzy colours mimicking his mood. A  hollow patter on the floor beside him caught his attention, the scroll landing on the rug. Nothing stayed the same, life went on, but things had to change, and would change. This was the universe reminding Johann Storm that he was truly, undeservedly lucky.

… so he better put that somewhere safe before Layton had reason to call by.

Hauling himself off the floor, he confirmed he was indeed, covered in cat hair, still, it was a small price to pay. He hooked the contract from the floor with a long finger and sent his socks and shoes for a walk down the hall on their own.

He’d miss this place, home. In the short space of months there were significant memories attached. From the table where they’d eaten dinner together from the rib shack, to the study where Balfour had first introduced his family via the hands on the clock. At least some would transfer, but they meant as much to him in his head as prized possessions might another. And now the scroll between his fingers would sleep with its brother in the darkest depths of a trunk that had seen oceans and weathered miles through the years, ready to move again.

“The very best adventures,” he concurred, finding Balfour and menagerie in the kitchen. “And entirely our own.”