Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Abby/Connor, with reference to A/B/C
Story: The Constant
Rating: PG-13/12
Warnings/Spoilers: Set the night before the end of 4x01.
Author's Note: No porn?! In one of my fics?! The world may well end.
Summary: After a crazy day, a relaxing shower eases Connor's mind
The Constant
The water was wonderfully hot—just this side of painful—as they stepped in. He closed the shower door and guided her into his embrace. This was how it should be, he thought: Quiet and comfortable, her frame a perfect fit in his arms as a year’s worth of desperation and Cretaceous dirt began washing away.
His frustration at being brushed off still ached, gnawing at him from the inside, but slowly, the fury started to ease. The heat and gentle pulse of Abby’s soft body soothed him, and soon, a sense of safety and calm settled in his mind. He sighed in relief.
Life in the past had not allowed such little luxuries. They had taken much solace in each other's company, both emotionally and physically, but neither could ever fully relax. Survival compelled them to swallow fear, exhaustion, weakness. Every moment of intimacy, of indulgent joy, was always shaded—tainted by the underlying wariness that was essential to their safety.
He was proud of himself, of course. The old Connor had been subsumed by this new, braver man, and he barely recognized the clumsy child he had been the day he'd seen his first anomaly. In their first couple of weeks alone, Abby had had to toughen him up, but it wasn't long before he contributed equal strength and courage to their fight for life.
Now, however... Now he was ready for at least some measure of regression. He knew there was no way he'd go back to who he was before he ever met Nick Cutter, but the urge to let go--to give way and let someone else take care of things for a while--was growing inside him. Abby, for all her innate power and fire, likely felt the same, too, given the way she seemed to melt into him, her breathing and pulse slowing as she unwound.
His mind drifted a little, back to another day--seemingly a lifetime ago--when he was the one being enfolded in strong arms under a warm cascade. He smiled, a fresher memory of being in those same arms passing through his mind. There was, clearly, at least one person in this new-old world who welcomed them back with no reservations.
His breath hitched as the idea came. The strength they needed now--the constant that would bring them safely into this changed life--was right there in front of them. Indeed, even when they were away, he always had been, though he couldn't know it. The idea of being able to come back and let their guards down—even just a little—and trust him to be strong for them both had a lot of appeal.
He stroked a hand over her head, smoothing back her matted, wet hair. Her eyelids flipped open and she looked up at him expectantly. “Abby…” he started quietly.
Reading his mind—or at least his face—she smiled gently at him. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“So am I.”
--End--
Characters: Abby/Connor, with reference to A/B/C
Story: The Constant
Rating: PG-13/12
Warnings/Spoilers: Set the night before the end of 4x01.
Author's Note: No porn?! In one of my fics?! The world may well end.
Summary: After a crazy day, a relaxing shower eases Connor's mind
The Constant
The water was wonderfully hot—just this side of painful—as they stepped in. He closed the shower door and guided her into his embrace. This was how it should be, he thought: Quiet and comfortable, her frame a perfect fit in his arms as a year’s worth of desperation and Cretaceous dirt began washing away.
His frustration at being brushed off still ached, gnawing at him from the inside, but slowly, the fury started to ease. The heat and gentle pulse of Abby’s soft body soothed him, and soon, a sense of safety and calm settled in his mind. He sighed in relief.
Life in the past had not allowed such little luxuries. They had taken much solace in each other's company, both emotionally and physically, but neither could ever fully relax. Survival compelled them to swallow fear, exhaustion, weakness. Every moment of intimacy, of indulgent joy, was always shaded—tainted by the underlying wariness that was essential to their safety.
He was proud of himself, of course. The old Connor had been subsumed by this new, braver man, and he barely recognized the clumsy child he had been the day he'd seen his first anomaly. In their first couple of weeks alone, Abby had had to toughen him up, but it wasn't long before he contributed equal strength and courage to their fight for life.
Now, however... Now he was ready for at least some measure of regression. He knew there was no way he'd go back to who he was before he ever met Nick Cutter, but the urge to let go--to give way and let someone else take care of things for a while--was growing inside him. Abby, for all her innate power and fire, likely felt the same, too, given the way she seemed to melt into him, her breathing and pulse slowing as she unwound.
His mind drifted a little, back to another day--seemingly a lifetime ago--when he was the one being enfolded in strong arms under a warm cascade. He smiled, a fresher memory of being in those same arms passing through his mind. There was, clearly, at least one person in this new-old world who welcomed them back with no reservations.
His breath hitched as the idea came. The strength they needed now--the constant that would bring them safely into this changed life--was right there in front of them. Indeed, even when they were away, he always had been, though he couldn't know it. The idea of being able to come back and let their guards down—even just a little—and trust him to be strong for them both had a lot of appeal.
He stroked a hand over her head, smoothing back her matted, wet hair. Her eyelids flipped open and she looked up at him expectantly. “Abby…” he started quietly.
Reading his mind—or at least his face—she smiled gently at him. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“So am I.”
--End--