Dear Reader, I have been bored. I have been tired. I have never been a Tav fan. This is my first foray into Tavland. Jean is my man, so this is strange territory. Not to be taken seriously, I guess. Have fun.

Dear Diary,

I purchased you because you were pretty. I am quite shallow.

Oh, and also, I have a new 'pet.' His name is William. He's awake, I have to go. Later

Dear Diary (again),

Now when I said 'pet' I guess I meant that rather loosely. Pet in the sense that he can't leave the house without me and I'm responsible for making sure he doesn't starve. Not pet in the sense that he could kill me with a hole punch if he got it in his mind to. You see, he's a dude. Like a guy kind of dude. Person, really. Just as much a person as I, though of the man sort. The yummy man sort.

I don't know why I never thought of having a man pet before. They're quite nice. The hot British accent is a great option. Perhaps it's because people don't go leisurely romping through time all that often. Ah well. What's done is done.

He just went to sleep, of course refusing my bed (damn it) in favor of the couch like the gentleman he is, though he does complain that it hurts his back. I like his hair. It's so pretty and long and smexy…

Fangirl squee. Strike that. Quiet! fangirl squee. He's sleeping. Yelling would be just rude.

So, as diaries go I guess standard procedure is to explain the background of whatever circumstance one might be in which prompts them to take up the mighty pen and keep a diary. Well, my dear book, my name is Bethany. About a week ago I discovered my little pet wandering the fields near my house and when I confronted him he brandished a sword at me. I guess once he realized I was a chick he put it away, but he was still really suspicious of my clothes and speech.

"Who are you and where am I?" he snapped at me.

"Bethany and Wakefield now what's with the attitude?"

"Attitude? Madam, I am an officer of the British Army, how dare you speak to me in this tone?"

I looked him up and down. Geez, this guy was crazy. "Not wearing that, you're not. And don't you guys stay in your own country?"

"This is our colony, and will stay that way." He straightened his back. "What are your loyalties? Are you a rebel?"

"Loyalties? Dude, you are either really lost, like two centuries lost, or crazy, and I'm banking on that second one."

"Doowd? What on earth? What in the Lord's name is going on? Where am I?"

"In 2008. Get a grip."

"2008?"

"Yeah, as in the year."

"You must be… Madam you must be terribly mistaken."

"Okay, buddy, so I think you're crazy and you think I'm crazy. This is just hilarious. You want me to show you and then give you a ride to a psych ward?"

"Show me what?"

I pulled out my cell phone, turning it over, flipping it open and shut. "See? Cell phone. Pretty. Shiny. Technology."

"What on God's green earth…?"

Eventually I realized he was telling the truth, but that was long after he believed me. I guess cars were a shock and all those paved roads were hard to ignore. So I brought him here, to my house and let him stay. Heck, who else on the block has a time traveling man pet? No one. That's right. I win.

That's basically the story. Now it's just the amusement of him figuring out things. And the hot. Oh… the hot.

Hot smexy.

Smexy steamy.

Steamy gorgeous yummy.

Well, this hardly constitutes a diary, all this word association.

I have grown tired and would like to retire to my bed. I wish he were in my bed, but one can only hope for the time to come. And it will.

Mwah ha ha.

The end. For today.