Fic, Guessing Games, Nick/Stephen, 12
Jan. 17th, 2012 04:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Guessing Games
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Nick/Stephen
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : It’s Nick’s birthday and he enjoys opening his presents.
A/N : Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mayakitten’s birthday. I hope you’ve had a lovely day, kitty cat, and that this fits your prompt! You can find the present here but don’t look until you’ve read the ficlet.
Nick poked at the parcel, grinning both at the rustling noise made by the wrapping and at the serried rows of dancing dinosaurs on the brightly-coloured paper.
“Socks?” he hazarded.
“You have a drawer full of bloody socks. Credit me with some imagination, Cutter.”
Nick’s next move was to bounce the package up and down in his hands, testing its weight.
“It’s not a book.”
Stephen sighed. Nick was always like this with birthday presents. “Ten out of ten for observation, Sherlock. It’s not a book.”
“It’s not a CD either,” Nick remarked, squashing the parcel between his hands and grinning at his own perspicacity.
“No wonder you made professor at 37,” Stephen acknowledged. “I’m impressed.”
“It’s not a bottle of scotch, either.” Nick looked inordinately pleased with that pronouncement and Stephen had to work hard not to ruffle his hair.
Nick gave the parcel a final poke and it emitted something that sounded suspiciously like a meow. Even Stephen was slightly surprised by that. He glanced at the second hand sweeping around the clock on Nick’s wall. In about another 30 seconds the wrapping paper was going to start to come off.
“It’s not a fossil, either, they don’t squeak.” Nick gave the parcel one last experimental poke then gave in and started tearing off the paper.
The small cuddly toy that nestled amidst the mess on Nick’s desk looked up at him with a faintly bemused expression. The two long white teeth that flanked the creature’s jaws were a lot softer than the ones on the real life version they’d encountered a few days previously when they’d had to use almost the entire contents of a butcher’s counter to entice a large, hungry sabre-toothed cat safely back to its own time. Lester was still complaining about the expenses claim.
Nick grinned down at the toy and ruffled the tuft of hair on the top of its head. “I’m going to call him Dennis,” he announced.
At that point, Stephen gave in, ruffled Nick’s hair and leaned forward to claim a kiss.
Nick promptly covered Dennis’s eyes and returned the kiss with enthusiasm.
For a 41-year-old Professor of Evolutionary Zoology and consultant to a top secret government organisation, Nick Cutter was remarkably easy to please when it came to birthday presents.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Nick/Stephen
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : It’s Nick’s birthday and he enjoys opening his presents.
A/N : Written for
mayakitten’s birthday. I hope you’ve had a lovely day, kitty cat, and that this fits your prompt! You can find the present here but don’t look until you’ve read the ficlet.Nick poked at the parcel, grinning both at the rustling noise made by the wrapping and at the serried rows of dancing dinosaurs on the brightly-coloured paper.
“Socks?” he hazarded.
“You have a drawer full of bloody socks. Credit me with some imagination, Cutter.”
Nick’s next move was to bounce the package up and down in his hands, testing its weight.
“It’s not a book.”
Stephen sighed. Nick was always like this with birthday presents. “Ten out of ten for observation, Sherlock. It’s not a book.”
“It’s not a CD either,” Nick remarked, squashing the parcel between his hands and grinning at his own perspicacity.
“No wonder you made professor at 37,” Stephen acknowledged. “I’m impressed.”
“It’s not a bottle of scotch, either.” Nick looked inordinately pleased with that pronouncement and Stephen had to work hard not to ruffle his hair.
Nick gave the parcel a final poke and it emitted something that sounded suspiciously like a meow. Even Stephen was slightly surprised by that. He glanced at the second hand sweeping around the clock on Nick’s wall. In about another 30 seconds the wrapping paper was going to start to come off.
“It’s not a fossil, either, they don’t squeak.” Nick gave the parcel one last experimental poke then gave in and started tearing off the paper.
The small cuddly toy that nestled amidst the mess on Nick’s desk looked up at him with a faintly bemused expression. The two long white teeth that flanked the creature’s jaws were a lot softer than the ones on the real life version they’d encountered a few days previously when they’d had to use almost the entire contents of a butcher’s counter to entice a large, hungry sabre-toothed cat safely back to its own time. Lester was still complaining about the expenses claim.
Nick grinned down at the toy and ruffled the tuft of hair on the top of its head. “I’m going to call him Dennis,” he announced.
At that point, Stephen gave in, ruffled Nick’s hair and leaned forward to claim a kiss.
Nick promptly covered Dennis’s eyes and returned the kiss with enthusiasm.
For a 41-year-old Professor of Evolutionary Zoology and consultant to a top secret government organisation, Nick Cutter was remarkably easy to please when it came to birthday presents.