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fredbassettTitle : The Skull Beneath the Skin (Part 9 of 9)
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : Parts 1 & 2 have 18 rated sections, all other parts are rated 15.
Characters : Nick/Stephen, Lester, Ryan, Connor, Abby, Claudia, Helen, OCs.
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 2,609, this part. Total, 26,890
Spoilers : None
Summary : Nick and Stephen attend a conference and things take a particularly interesting turn during a field trip.
A/N : 1) This is my offering for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
help_pakistan auction. It’s been a pleasure to write this story and I’d like to thank ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tryfanstone , who won me at auction as a present for a friend, and who passed on the prompts and encouraged me during the writing process. It’s been a privilege to work with you! 2) The title comes from the T.S.Eliot poem Whispers of Immortality. 3) I am very grateful to lukadreaming who nobly betaed the entire fic, and to steamshovelmama whose medical knowledge was, as ever, invaluable.
*****
“Tell Nick I love him.”
Stephen’s own words echoed in his ears as he lifted the Browning automatic, aiming for the gaping jaws of the juvenile tyrannosaurus rex. He was fully intending to empty the entire clip into it if necessary. He had two spare magazines left, but if his first shots failed to take the creature down, he very much doubted he’d get the chance to reload.
The sudden crack of wood underfoot dragged the tyrannosaur’s attention away from them. Stephen heard the rustle in the undergrowth that indicated something moving in their direction. Something than moved on two feet. Hopefully, something human.
Helen grinned. “Tell him yourself. You’re a man, you need to practise those three little words, Stephen. Don’t let my reaction put you off. That was years ago, and it’s a well-known fact that I’m a cold-hearted bitch.” She hefted the long knife in her hand and yelled, “Over here and we’ve got company!”
The creature lunged. Helen threw herself to one side, avoiding the slash of yellow teeth by no more than centimetres. She fell back through a tangle of flower-laden branches, rich red petals falling around her like flakes of blood. Stephen snapped off a shot from the pistol and blood flowered on the creature’s powerful neck. The tyrannosaurus roared, dispelling any notion that its central nervous system was any less rapid than that of more modern animals. The massive head lowered to Helen, nostrils snuffling, drool dripping onto the leaves coating the forest floor.
Stephen fired again, this time into its body. It was a huge target, but he knew with a sick certainty that the bullets were doing nothing to incapacitate the beast and everything to fuel its anger.
A moment later, he saw Ryan run out of the undergrowth and expected to hear the unmistakeable chatter of automatic weapon fire but, to Stephen’s surprise, the black-clad soldier had his rifle slung over his shoulder. He came to a halt only a few metres from the tyrannosaurus, what looked like a short tube held in one hand. With his other hand, the Special Forces captain flipped off a small cap and tugged at a short piece of cord that dangled from the end of the cylinder.
“Look away!” Ryan yelled.
Fire leaped from the tube, burning with an intensity that made Stephen blink rapidly even as he obeyed the order. Orange flame quickly turned red, as smoke billowed from the distress flare gripped firmly in Ryan’s hand. The soldier ran forward, waving his arm, thrusting the fire right into the tyrannosaurus’ face. A sharp, acrid smell filled the air. The huge predator bellowed in fear, snapping its jaws wildly even as it turned away from the intensely bright light.
For good measure, Stephen levelled the Browning again and fired another two shots, adding pain to the terror that the flare was clearly inducing. It was enough, and even as the light from the distress flare started to fade the tyrannosaurus was already stampeding away into the forest, roaring in an ear-shattering combination of fear and anger.
With lights still dancing in his eyes, Stephen turned to Ryan, grinning. “Nice one, soldier boy. Why the hell didn’t you use that earlier?”
Ryan returned the grin and dropped the still-smoking flare. “Abby was pretty sure that waving some green stuff around would be enough for the veggies, and I was saving this trick for a real emergency.” He extended his arm and hauled Helen to her feet, his sharp eyes taking in her various injuries. “What went wrong?”
“An ankylosaur used the rope as a trip wire.”
“And your arm?”
“Something got over-friendly.” Stephen holstered the Browning and looped his good arm around Helen’s waist. She was white-faced and had obviously jarred her injured shoulder badly.
Together, the three of them covered the remaining distance to the anomaly without further incident. With Ryan as rear-guard, Stephen stepped into the glittering light, still half-supporting Helen’s weight. He didn’t even spare a final glance for the beautiful but deadly world he was leaving behind, and the dark, waxy leaves of a rhododendron bush had never before looked so good.
Hands reached out to help them and Stephen found himself in Nick’s arms. He heard Ryan’s calm voice giving orders and for a long moment Stephen simply allowed himself to be held, his head resting on Nick’s shoulder as the throbbing in his right forearm was finally eclipsed by a feeling of relief so strong that it took away fear and dulled pain, leaving him trembling with reaction.
“How very touching,” drawled a familiar voice. “Professor Cutter, Mr Hart, I’m sure that Captain Ryan and his men would prefer you to cut your reunion short so that they can secure the anomaly before something decides to gate-crash the party.”
Nick gave him a last, gentle squeeze and Stephen took a step back. For all Lester’s sharp tone, the man’s eyes held an unmistakeable shadow of relief. The ebb of adrenaline in his body had dulled Stephen’s brain. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since they’d left behind the grounds of Frank Taylor’s Dorset mansion and his watch hadn’t survived the encounter with the dromaeosaur, but Lester had obviously decided to mobilise a full team.
“I do so dislike the expense of helicopters,” Lester commented, seeing his surprise. “But as a method of transport they have their advantages.”
“You know we’re worth it,” grinned Connor, appearing at Lester’s side.
“So you keep telling me, Mr Temple.” Lester’s eyes rested on Helen, who was swaying slightly on her feet. “I take it you won’t be so quick on this occasion to scorn our hospitality?”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Have you done anything illegal?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Then why should I arrest you?”
“You did last time.”
“And much good it did me.” Lester smiled humourlessly. “Come, Mrs Cutter. The inestimable Ms Brown has a veritable corps of paramedics on hand to tend to the injured. Let’s not disappoint them.”
Stephen noted that some colour had come back into Helen’s face, and she mustered a passable expression of amusement to counter Lester’s disdain, before limping off in the direction of the house.
“One all,” muttered Nick. “Come on, let’s get that arm looked at.”
Leaving Ryan issuing orders to his men, Stephen set off in Lester’s wake, with Nick at his side, holding tightly to the fingers of his uninjured hand. The shadows of evening were drawing in around them, and the anomaly still glittered brightly, shedding a pale, fractured light, but it led to a world as cruel as it was beautiful and, for now, Stephen was more than content to leave the past behind him.
* * * * *
Stephen settled himself into the kitchen chair in the Taylor mansion with a small sigh of relief. Although he would have preferred to be back in Nick’s house, or his own flat, he certainly hadn’t fancied the drive, not that late at night, and Taylor had been adamant that his house was at their disposal.
After having spent the last two hours in Dorchester hospital having the wounds in his arm cleaned, stitched and bandaged, Stephen hadn’t felt in any fit state to decline his hospitality. Karen Taylor had regained consciousness briefly, much to her father’s relief and, from what they’d been told, her injuries were not believed to be life-threatening. A harassed doctor, who clearly hadn’t set much store by any of Claudia’s carefully constructed cover-stories, had informed them in no uncertain terms that Helen would need to be kept in overnight for observation. Helen herself had accepted that with surprising equanimity, and Stephen had last seen her engaged in a remarkably civil discussion with Lester, during which she appeared to have been promising not to run any more prehistoric package tours in return for Lester’s assurance that he would not be taking any steps to freeze her newly-acquired bank account.
“Do you think Frank will want his money back?” Stephen asked, accepting the mug of tea liberally laced with whisky that Nick pushed across the table to him.
“His daughter is alive. That’s all he seems to care about,” Nick said.
“He assures me he won’t be publishing any more papers,” Claudia commented, with a slight smile. “James says he is being most cooperative.”
“And Helen?”
“Asleep, when I left the hospital,” said Lester from the doorway, having done a good job of emulating Helen’s own cat-like approach earlier in the day. “I very much doubt she’ll consent to enjoy the hospitality of the NHS for much longer, though, in spite of her protestations to the contrary.”
“And then what?” Nick asked quietly, slipping one hand on Stephen’s without any show of embarrassment.
“She will no doubt find another way to be the bane of my existence,” Lester sighed. “Claudia, if there’s another cup of tea in that pot I would appreciate it. The sludge they serve in that hospital appears to have cauterised my palate. Something to revive it would be most welcome.”
Nick pulled his battered hip flask out of a pocket and slid it across the table. “Try that, but if you put it in your tea I might be forced to feed you to the next thing with big teeth that comes through an anomaly. You can use the Bell’s for that. Stephen did.”
Claudia handed Lester a glass. He poured a generous measure of Nick’s Scotch, gave it an appreciative sniff, followed by an even more appreciative sip and commented, “Karen Taylor was awake again when I left the hospital. Her father asked me to tender his sincere thanks to the entire team. The hospitality of Byfield Manor is at our disposal for as long as we need it, although Captain Ryan assures me that the anomaly is finally showing signs of starting to fade.”
Lester accepted a mug of tea and a bottle of Bell’s whisky from Claudia that wouldn’t draw a squawk of outrage from Nick when the two were mixed and proceeded to make himself comfortable in a large rocking chair.
“All’s well that ends well,” Claudia said, but it sounded to Stephen more like a question than a statement.
Lester favoured her with a benign smile. “Professor Taylor seems to have lost his urge to impress the scientific world with his discoveries. His daughter’s wanderlust has no doubt been curbed. Helen Cutter now appears to think that the benefits of companionship do not, in fact, outweigh the potential difficulties. So, yes, on this occasion, I do believe that we can consider matters to have been successfully concluded.” Lester’s smile took on a somewhat shark-like edge and he added quietly, “However, before we leave, I have every intention of ensuring that no evidence of their intellectual tourism is able to come back to haunt us. I want this house thoroughly searched before we leave, and all evidence secured. I’m sure between you all that little task can be accomplished without too much difficulty.”
“Can we keep what we find?” grinned Connor.
Lester rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hear that question, Mr Temple.”
Connor’s grin broadened.
Nick’s hand tightened on Stephen’s and gave a slight tug. “You need to get some sleep.”
Stephen allowed himself to be pulled gently to his feet. His head was fuzzy with a mixture of painkillers and alcohol and he knew he couldn’t stay awake much longer. Claudia had already identified rooms for all of them in the huge house and Stephen found himself ushered into a bedroom almost bigger than his entire flat, with an actual four-poster bed, draped with rich gold and red brocade that actually managed to look tasteful rather than ludicrous, much to Stephen’s surprise. A pair of huge floor to ceiling doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the manicured lawns to the rear that finally gave way to the wilder areas of the grounds. In the distance, Stephen could just make out the dim glow of the now-fading anomaly above the dark tangle of bushes and trees.
Nick walked over to the doors and opened them, stepping out onto the balcony and leaning for a moment on the stone balustrade. In spite of the fact that it was now after midnight, the air was warm, although not as warm as the humid heat of the Cretaceous. Stephen turned off the main light in the bedroom, leaving only the soft glow of the wall-lights to illuminate the room. He toed off his trainers and wandered out to join Nick, slipping his good arm around his lover’s waist.
Nick leaned against him, still staring out into the darkness, and Stephen could feel the slight tension in the other man’s body. A moment later, he identified its source. A figure was making its way across the lawn, the concealing veil of darkness not quite sufficient to disguise its passage.
Stephen sighed. “Lester was right, wasn’t he?”
“He normally is,” Nick said. “But if you tell him I said that, it’ll be the end of a beautiful friendship.” Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. He had Ryan’s number keyed into his directory, they all did.
The Special Forces leader answered almost immediately.
“My wife is heading in your direction,” Nick said softly. “I would be extremely grateful if you did not attempt to hinder her departure.” Stephen watched Nick’s lips twitch into a smile, and then he said, “Thank you, Ryan,” and ended the call.
Stephen raised his eyebrows, not quite able to interpret the look on Nick’s face.
“He said Lester had just phoned him and told him to let her through, but he’d been intending to do it anyway.”
Stephen laughed softly and pulled Nick into a hug. “It’s a conspiracy. Connor will be delighted.” He kissed Nick lightly on the lips before admitting, “There was a moment back there when I didn’t think I was going to see you again. I asked Helen to tell you I loved you.”
Nick’s arms tightened protectively around Stephen’s waist. “What did she say?”
“She told me to tell you myself. She’d obviously heard Ryan coming before I did.” He was silent for a long moment and then said, trying to ignore the fact that his voice was shaking slightly. “She was important to me, Cutter, I can’t deny that, but it’s over. I’ve known for more years than I care to remember that there’s only one Cutter who matters to me now.”
Nick smiled, and it was a smile that held more than affection. “She was important to me as well, Stephen, and she still is, but in a different way.”
Nick pulled Stephen’s head down and captured his lips in a deep, warm kiss. Stephen opened his mouth to admit the gently probing tongue. When they finally broke apart, Nick murmured, “I love you too, Stephen,” and then went back to kissing him thoroughly enough to overcome both pain and exhaustion.
Stephen lost himself in the comfort of Nick’s arms and later, after pleasure had been given and pleasure taken, they lay together in the enormous bed, Stephen’s head pillowed on Nick’s chest, his bandaged arm resting on Nick’s stomach, and Nick’s arm looped around Stephen’s shoulders.
A light kiss was pressed into his hair and Stephen heard the amusement in Nick’s voice as his lover said quietly, “Maybe we could fix her up with Lester?”
Stephen chuckled and licked sleepily at one of Nick’s nipples. “Made for each other,” he agreed, before finally slipping away into sleep, secure in the knowledge that a shadow had finally been lifted from their lives.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : Parts 1 & 2 have 18 rated sections, all other parts are rated 15.
Characters : Nick/Stephen, Lester, Ryan, Connor, Abby, Claudia, Helen, OCs.
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Word Count : 2,609, this part. Total, 26,890
Spoilers : None
Summary : Nick and Stephen attend a conference and things take a particularly interesting turn during a field trip.
A/N : 1) This is my offering for the
help_pakistan auction. It’s been a pleasure to write this story and I’d like to thank tryfanstone , who won me at auction as a present for a friend, and who passed on the prompts and encouraged me during the writing process. It’s been a privilege to work with you! 2) The title comes from the T.S.Eliot poem Whispers of Immortality. 3) I am very grateful to lukadreaming who nobly betaed the entire fic, and to steamshovelmama whose medical knowledge was, as ever, invaluable. *****
“Tell Nick I love him.”
Stephen’s own words echoed in his ears as he lifted the Browning automatic, aiming for the gaping jaws of the juvenile tyrannosaurus rex. He was fully intending to empty the entire clip into it if necessary. He had two spare magazines left, but if his first shots failed to take the creature down, he very much doubted he’d get the chance to reload.
The sudden crack of wood underfoot dragged the tyrannosaur’s attention away from them. Stephen heard the rustle in the undergrowth that indicated something moving in their direction. Something than moved on two feet. Hopefully, something human.
Helen grinned. “Tell him yourself. You’re a man, you need to practise those three little words, Stephen. Don’t let my reaction put you off. That was years ago, and it’s a well-known fact that I’m a cold-hearted bitch.” She hefted the long knife in her hand and yelled, “Over here and we’ve got company!”
The creature lunged. Helen threw herself to one side, avoiding the slash of yellow teeth by no more than centimetres. She fell back through a tangle of flower-laden branches, rich red petals falling around her like flakes of blood. Stephen snapped off a shot from the pistol and blood flowered on the creature’s powerful neck. The tyrannosaurus roared, dispelling any notion that its central nervous system was any less rapid than that of more modern animals. The massive head lowered to Helen, nostrils snuffling, drool dripping onto the leaves coating the forest floor.
Stephen fired again, this time into its body. It was a huge target, but he knew with a sick certainty that the bullets were doing nothing to incapacitate the beast and everything to fuel its anger.
A moment later, he saw Ryan run out of the undergrowth and expected to hear the unmistakeable chatter of automatic weapon fire but, to Stephen’s surprise, the black-clad soldier had his rifle slung over his shoulder. He came to a halt only a few metres from the tyrannosaurus, what looked like a short tube held in one hand. With his other hand, the Special Forces captain flipped off a small cap and tugged at a short piece of cord that dangled from the end of the cylinder.
“Look away!” Ryan yelled.
Fire leaped from the tube, burning with an intensity that made Stephen blink rapidly even as he obeyed the order. Orange flame quickly turned red, as smoke billowed from the distress flare gripped firmly in Ryan’s hand. The soldier ran forward, waving his arm, thrusting the fire right into the tyrannosaurus’ face. A sharp, acrid smell filled the air. The huge predator bellowed in fear, snapping its jaws wildly even as it turned away from the intensely bright light.
For good measure, Stephen levelled the Browning again and fired another two shots, adding pain to the terror that the flare was clearly inducing. It was enough, and even as the light from the distress flare started to fade the tyrannosaurus was already stampeding away into the forest, roaring in an ear-shattering combination of fear and anger.
With lights still dancing in his eyes, Stephen turned to Ryan, grinning. “Nice one, soldier boy. Why the hell didn’t you use that earlier?”
Ryan returned the grin and dropped the still-smoking flare. “Abby was pretty sure that waving some green stuff around would be enough for the veggies, and I was saving this trick for a real emergency.” He extended his arm and hauled Helen to her feet, his sharp eyes taking in her various injuries. “What went wrong?”
“An ankylosaur used the rope as a trip wire.”
“And your arm?”
“Something got over-friendly.” Stephen holstered the Browning and looped his good arm around Helen’s waist. She was white-faced and had obviously jarred her injured shoulder badly.
Together, the three of them covered the remaining distance to the anomaly without further incident. With Ryan as rear-guard, Stephen stepped into the glittering light, still half-supporting Helen’s weight. He didn’t even spare a final glance for the beautiful but deadly world he was leaving behind, and the dark, waxy leaves of a rhododendron bush had never before looked so good.
Hands reached out to help them and Stephen found himself in Nick’s arms. He heard Ryan’s calm voice giving orders and for a long moment Stephen simply allowed himself to be held, his head resting on Nick’s shoulder as the throbbing in his right forearm was finally eclipsed by a feeling of relief so strong that it took away fear and dulled pain, leaving him trembling with reaction.
“How very touching,” drawled a familiar voice. “Professor Cutter, Mr Hart, I’m sure that Captain Ryan and his men would prefer you to cut your reunion short so that they can secure the anomaly before something decides to gate-crash the party.”
Nick gave him a last, gentle squeeze and Stephen took a step back. For all Lester’s sharp tone, the man’s eyes held an unmistakeable shadow of relief. The ebb of adrenaline in his body had dulled Stephen’s brain. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since they’d left behind the grounds of Frank Taylor’s Dorset mansion and his watch hadn’t survived the encounter with the dromaeosaur, but Lester had obviously decided to mobilise a full team.
“I do so dislike the expense of helicopters,” Lester commented, seeing his surprise. “But as a method of transport they have their advantages.”
“You know we’re worth it,” grinned Connor, appearing at Lester’s side.
“So you keep telling me, Mr Temple.” Lester’s eyes rested on Helen, who was swaying slightly on her feet. “I take it you won’t be so quick on this occasion to scorn our hospitality?”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Have you done anything illegal?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Then why should I arrest you?”
“You did last time.”
“And much good it did me.” Lester smiled humourlessly. “Come, Mrs Cutter. The inestimable Ms Brown has a veritable corps of paramedics on hand to tend to the injured. Let’s not disappoint them.”
Stephen noted that some colour had come back into Helen’s face, and she mustered a passable expression of amusement to counter Lester’s disdain, before limping off in the direction of the house.
“One all,” muttered Nick. “Come on, let’s get that arm looked at.”
Leaving Ryan issuing orders to his men, Stephen set off in Lester’s wake, with Nick at his side, holding tightly to the fingers of his uninjured hand. The shadows of evening were drawing in around them, and the anomaly still glittered brightly, shedding a pale, fractured light, but it led to a world as cruel as it was beautiful and, for now, Stephen was more than content to leave the past behind him.
* * * * *
Stephen settled himself into the kitchen chair in the Taylor mansion with a small sigh of relief. Although he would have preferred to be back in Nick’s house, or his own flat, he certainly hadn’t fancied the drive, not that late at night, and Taylor had been adamant that his house was at their disposal.
After having spent the last two hours in Dorchester hospital having the wounds in his arm cleaned, stitched and bandaged, Stephen hadn’t felt in any fit state to decline his hospitality. Karen Taylor had regained consciousness briefly, much to her father’s relief and, from what they’d been told, her injuries were not believed to be life-threatening. A harassed doctor, who clearly hadn’t set much store by any of Claudia’s carefully constructed cover-stories, had informed them in no uncertain terms that Helen would need to be kept in overnight for observation. Helen herself had accepted that with surprising equanimity, and Stephen had last seen her engaged in a remarkably civil discussion with Lester, during which she appeared to have been promising not to run any more prehistoric package tours in return for Lester’s assurance that he would not be taking any steps to freeze her newly-acquired bank account.
“Do you think Frank will want his money back?” Stephen asked, accepting the mug of tea liberally laced with whisky that Nick pushed across the table to him.
“His daughter is alive. That’s all he seems to care about,” Nick said.
“He assures me he won’t be publishing any more papers,” Claudia commented, with a slight smile. “James says he is being most cooperative.”
“And Helen?”
“Asleep, when I left the hospital,” said Lester from the doorway, having done a good job of emulating Helen’s own cat-like approach earlier in the day. “I very much doubt she’ll consent to enjoy the hospitality of the NHS for much longer, though, in spite of her protestations to the contrary.”
“And then what?” Nick asked quietly, slipping one hand on Stephen’s without any show of embarrassment.
“She will no doubt find another way to be the bane of my existence,” Lester sighed. “Claudia, if there’s another cup of tea in that pot I would appreciate it. The sludge they serve in that hospital appears to have cauterised my palate. Something to revive it would be most welcome.”
Nick pulled his battered hip flask out of a pocket and slid it across the table. “Try that, but if you put it in your tea I might be forced to feed you to the next thing with big teeth that comes through an anomaly. You can use the Bell’s for that. Stephen did.”
Claudia handed Lester a glass. He poured a generous measure of Nick’s Scotch, gave it an appreciative sniff, followed by an even more appreciative sip and commented, “Karen Taylor was awake again when I left the hospital. Her father asked me to tender his sincere thanks to the entire team. The hospitality of Byfield Manor is at our disposal for as long as we need it, although Captain Ryan assures me that the anomaly is finally showing signs of starting to fade.”
Lester accepted a mug of tea and a bottle of Bell’s whisky from Claudia that wouldn’t draw a squawk of outrage from Nick when the two were mixed and proceeded to make himself comfortable in a large rocking chair.
“All’s well that ends well,” Claudia said, but it sounded to Stephen more like a question than a statement.
Lester favoured her with a benign smile. “Professor Taylor seems to have lost his urge to impress the scientific world with his discoveries. His daughter’s wanderlust has no doubt been curbed. Helen Cutter now appears to think that the benefits of companionship do not, in fact, outweigh the potential difficulties. So, yes, on this occasion, I do believe that we can consider matters to have been successfully concluded.” Lester’s smile took on a somewhat shark-like edge and he added quietly, “However, before we leave, I have every intention of ensuring that no evidence of their intellectual tourism is able to come back to haunt us. I want this house thoroughly searched before we leave, and all evidence secured. I’m sure between you all that little task can be accomplished without too much difficulty.”
“Can we keep what we find?” grinned Connor.
Lester rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hear that question, Mr Temple.”
Connor’s grin broadened.
Nick’s hand tightened on Stephen’s and gave a slight tug. “You need to get some sleep.”
Stephen allowed himself to be pulled gently to his feet. His head was fuzzy with a mixture of painkillers and alcohol and he knew he couldn’t stay awake much longer. Claudia had already identified rooms for all of them in the huge house and Stephen found himself ushered into a bedroom almost bigger than his entire flat, with an actual four-poster bed, draped with rich gold and red brocade that actually managed to look tasteful rather than ludicrous, much to Stephen’s surprise. A pair of huge floor to ceiling doors opened onto a balcony overlooking the manicured lawns to the rear that finally gave way to the wilder areas of the grounds. In the distance, Stephen could just make out the dim glow of the now-fading anomaly above the dark tangle of bushes and trees.
Nick walked over to the doors and opened them, stepping out onto the balcony and leaning for a moment on the stone balustrade. In spite of the fact that it was now after midnight, the air was warm, although not as warm as the humid heat of the Cretaceous. Stephen turned off the main light in the bedroom, leaving only the soft glow of the wall-lights to illuminate the room. He toed off his trainers and wandered out to join Nick, slipping his good arm around his lover’s waist.
Nick leaned against him, still staring out into the darkness, and Stephen could feel the slight tension in the other man’s body. A moment later, he identified its source. A figure was making its way across the lawn, the concealing veil of darkness not quite sufficient to disguise its passage.
Stephen sighed. “Lester was right, wasn’t he?”
“He normally is,” Nick said. “But if you tell him I said that, it’ll be the end of a beautiful friendship.” Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone. He had Ryan’s number keyed into his directory, they all did.
The Special Forces leader answered almost immediately.
“My wife is heading in your direction,” Nick said softly. “I would be extremely grateful if you did not attempt to hinder her departure.” Stephen watched Nick’s lips twitch into a smile, and then he said, “Thank you, Ryan,” and ended the call.
Stephen raised his eyebrows, not quite able to interpret the look on Nick’s face.
“He said Lester had just phoned him and told him to let her through, but he’d been intending to do it anyway.”
Stephen laughed softly and pulled Nick into a hug. “It’s a conspiracy. Connor will be delighted.” He kissed Nick lightly on the lips before admitting, “There was a moment back there when I didn’t think I was going to see you again. I asked Helen to tell you I loved you.”
Nick’s arms tightened protectively around Stephen’s waist. “What did she say?”
“She told me to tell you myself. She’d obviously heard Ryan coming before I did.” He was silent for a long moment and then said, trying to ignore the fact that his voice was shaking slightly. “She was important to me, Cutter, I can’t deny that, but it’s over. I’ve known for more years than I care to remember that there’s only one Cutter who matters to me now.”
Nick smiled, and it was a smile that held more than affection. “She was important to me as well, Stephen, and she still is, but in a different way.”
Nick pulled Stephen’s head down and captured his lips in a deep, warm kiss. Stephen opened his mouth to admit the gently probing tongue. When they finally broke apart, Nick murmured, “I love you too, Stephen,” and then went back to kissing him thoroughly enough to overcome both pain and exhaustion.
Stephen lost himself in the comfort of Nick’s arms and later, after pleasure had been given and pleasure taken, they lay together in the enormous bed, Stephen’s head pillowed on Nick’s chest, his bandaged arm resting on Nick’s stomach, and Nick’s arm looped around Stephen’s shoulders.
A light kiss was pressed into his hair and Stephen heard the amusement in Nick’s voice as his lover said quietly, “Maybe we could fix her up with Lester?”
Stephen chuckled and licked sleepily at one of Nick’s nipples. “Made for each other,” he agreed, before finally slipping away into sleep, secure in the knowledge that a shadow had finally been lifted from their lives.