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fredbassettTitle : The Guinea Pig’s Revenge
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Becker, Jess
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : There are times when size definitely matters.
A/N : 1) Inspired by this news item, as well as an unfortunate incident in the Murray/Parrish household that quite rightly traumatised![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clea2011. Re-posting from a long ago fandom stocking.
“Be careful with him!” Jess shrieked in Becker’s ear.
Becker winced. Her voice had just gone in one ear and out the other, cauterising his brain in the process. Jess had many excellent qualities as a field controller, but moderating her voice in times of excitement wasn’t one of them.
“I am being careful!” Becker retorted.
Jess’ love of guinea pigs was well known, and even Becker thought they were quite cute, but by that he meant the ones with the little whiffly noses that you could pick up and stroke, not ones the size of a hippopotamus and about as tractable.
The creature in question, already nicknamed Guinzilla by the lads, looked like it weighed in the region of 700 kilos, and certainly wasn’t something you’d be picking up without the help of a crane! It was currently munching its way through the entire stock of The Green Valley garden centre. The manager, standing outside the fence with the rest of his staff, was already on the phone to his insurers, occasionally breaking off his call to yell unhelpful instructions to the team, such as ‘Mind that, it’s expensive!’ and ‘Break all the pots, why don’t you?’
Unfortunately for Mr Simmons, sarcasm was as wasted on Guinzilla as it was on Becker’s lads, all of whom were currently copying their team leader and lounging around inside the conveniently fenced enclosure, trying to tempt the creature back to the anomaly with a variety of tasty – and probably expensive – morsels. But currently Guinzilla seemed content to let his (or her) black-clad servants do all the work of foraging, which Matt looked on, clearly amused.
The giant rodent seemed to be quite a pleasant beast, showing no signs of aggression whatsoever. It had no fear of humans and seemed happy to let the soldiers come up close and hand it a variety of plants to chew. It seemed to be particularly enjoying some large potted shrubs. One of the lads had even patted it on the nose, and a couple had taken selfies with it, making Becker roll his eyes and mutter about lack of professionalism.
They’d just grinned at him and retorted that it made a nice change to be dealing with something that hadn’t tried to eat them or trample them to death. Becker had to admit that they had a point. He was half-tempted to offer it a carrot himself.
“Becker, Connor says the anomaly has just weakened by about 10%,” Jess told him over the comms link, a note of more restrained urgency entering her voice.
Becker said a rude word under his breath.
“There’s no need to be like that,” Jess admonished.
“Not aimed to you…” Becker looked over to where Guinzilla was still happily entertaining both soldiers and scientists alike. Unfortunately, 700 kilos of cute furry animal still showed no signs of wanting to shift its arse any closer to the way home. “OK, you lot, off your fucking arses and get Hammy the Hamster home in time for tea!”
“No need to shout!” Jess murmured.
“Actually, there is. From where I’m standing, you’re not the only one who likes bloody guinea pigs. The whole lot of them have gone all gooey-eyed over the sodding thing. Cover your ears…,” he told her before raising his voice again. “If I have to tell you again, I’ll start looking up recipes on the ‘net. They eat a lot of this sort of thing in South America….!”
“Cover his ears!” one of the lads said. “You’ll hurt his feelings, boss!”
“I’ll hurt more than his bloody feelings if you lot don’t get off your fucking arses and get him repatriated in the next five minutes!”
His orders provoked a flurry of activity from everyone apart from the rodent in question. Guinzilla just sat there and carried on munching some more of the tasty morsels on offer while the garden centre manager went increasingly apoplectic on the sidelines.
With a roll of his eyes, Becker decided to take a direct hand in the matter.
Guinzilla stared down at him out of a pair of large, long-lashed dark eyes, his nose twitching speculatively.
“Try pushing him,” Becker ordered.
“Tried that, Action Man,” Matt commented, leaning against the wall of the building.
Becker rolled his eyes again, “Then try it again, harder.”
Two of the lads obligingly went behind Guinzilla and started to push. The recalcitrant rodent turned its head around and stared at them. A loud farting noise caused both of the men to recoil hastily, complaining loudly about the smell.
“No worse than you lot after a Friday night session, now put your fucking backs into it and get this thing shifted!”
Matt obligingly waved a large bunch of leaves in front of its nose and then stepped back.
Guinzilla finally hopped forward a metre of so, leaving behind a large pile of droppings. It clearly hadn’t been just a fart.
Matt waved the leaves again and took another step back. The nose twitched again and they were rewarded by another hop. Then forward progress ground to a halt and no amount of coaxing seemed to make any difference. Becker was extremely tempted to roll his eyes again but managed to restrain himself.
He used his knife to hack off a handful of leaves from something that looked like a banana tree. Becker then panted himself firmly in front of the giant fur-ball and tapped him on the nose with the leaves.
Guinzilla blinked in surprise but didn’t move.
Becker tried again.
It had exactly the same amount of effect.
A moment later, a flurry of excited barking came from inside the garden centre followed by an explosion of brown and white fur as a small terrier came flying out of the shop.
“Get that fucking dog out of here!” Becker yelled.
“Dog?” demanded Jess. “Oh no! Save the dog!”
Becker groaned.
Matt grinned.
One of their men tried to rugby-tackle the newcomer and failed abysmally. The dog shot between his legs and disappeared into Guineazilla’s fur, letting out a series of muffled yaps. A look of something approaching confusion settled on the rodent’s face. The creature jumped forward, back feet lashing out, probably trying to dislodge the dog, but kicking over a two metre stretch of fence instead. Becker could hear the protests from the unfortunate garden centre manager, but sensibly decided to leave him to Emily.
The sound of muffled barks was coming from somewhere in the vicinity of Guinzilla’s arse. The huge rodent stood up, shook itself and started to lope off in the direction of the anomaly, presumably with the dog still attached to its nether regions.
Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Becker stood aside and let the rodent go.
A cheer went up from the onlookers.
Guinzilla hopped up to and through the anomaly, managing to knock over and smash several large pots in the process. As it disappeared, there was the sound of another large fart and a new pile of round, black steaming turds appeared behind it.
“What’s happened to the dog?” Jess demanded.
“It’s… er… gone for a walk,” Becker said.
“Get it back!” she ordered, in a voice that would have reduced an entire parade ground to quivering obedience.
Before Becker had chance to do anything, the anomaly shivered in the afternoon sunlight, and a ball of brown and white fur came flying back through the shimmering ball of light, looking like Guinzilla had whacked it with the full force of his hind paws. One of Becker’s men fielded the Jack Russell with a catch that wouldn’t have been out of place in the last Test Match. The dog expressed its gratitude by biting its saviour on the thumb.
Never one to take any crap, Reynolds promptly lobbed the dog over the fence where was caught by a member of the garden centre’s staff. Becker hoped they were wearing gloves as the bloody thing didn’t seem to have a grateful bone in its body.
“The dog’s fine,” he told Jess. “And Guinzilla’s gone home, so you can’t keep him as a pet.
Even separated as they were, Becker could feel the weight of Jess’ disappointment.
On the way back to the ARC, the convoy pulled into a motorway service station to use and abuse the facilities and pick up some chocolate for their field controller.
Waiting for Matt to get to the head of the queue in Costa, Becker was idly browsing through the books on display when he saw something that made him think of Jess.
A guinea pig wearing a fez stared at him off the cover of a small notebook.
It wasn’t quite the same as a giant, real life guinea pig. But it was the best he was likely to get at Clackett Lane services.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Becker, Jess
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : There are times when size definitely matters.
A/N : 1) Inspired by this news item, as well as an unfortunate incident in the Murray/Parrish household that quite rightly traumatised
clea2011. Re-posting from a long ago fandom stocking.“Be careful with him!” Jess shrieked in Becker’s ear.
Becker winced. Her voice had just gone in one ear and out the other, cauterising his brain in the process. Jess had many excellent qualities as a field controller, but moderating her voice in times of excitement wasn’t one of them.
“I am being careful!” Becker retorted.
Jess’ love of guinea pigs was well known, and even Becker thought they were quite cute, but by that he meant the ones with the little whiffly noses that you could pick up and stroke, not ones the size of a hippopotamus and about as tractable.
The creature in question, already nicknamed Guinzilla by the lads, looked like it weighed in the region of 700 kilos, and certainly wasn’t something you’d be picking up without the help of a crane! It was currently munching its way through the entire stock of The Green Valley garden centre. The manager, standing outside the fence with the rest of his staff, was already on the phone to his insurers, occasionally breaking off his call to yell unhelpful instructions to the team, such as ‘Mind that, it’s expensive!’ and ‘Break all the pots, why don’t you?’
Unfortunately for Mr Simmons, sarcasm was as wasted on Guinzilla as it was on Becker’s lads, all of whom were currently copying their team leader and lounging around inside the conveniently fenced enclosure, trying to tempt the creature back to the anomaly with a variety of tasty – and probably expensive – morsels. But currently Guinzilla seemed content to let his (or her) black-clad servants do all the work of foraging, which Matt looked on, clearly amused.
The giant rodent seemed to be quite a pleasant beast, showing no signs of aggression whatsoever. It had no fear of humans and seemed happy to let the soldiers come up close and hand it a variety of plants to chew. It seemed to be particularly enjoying some large potted shrubs. One of the lads had even patted it on the nose, and a couple had taken selfies with it, making Becker roll his eyes and mutter about lack of professionalism.
They’d just grinned at him and retorted that it made a nice change to be dealing with something that hadn’t tried to eat them or trample them to death. Becker had to admit that they had a point. He was half-tempted to offer it a carrot himself.
“Becker, Connor says the anomaly has just weakened by about 10%,” Jess told him over the comms link, a note of more restrained urgency entering her voice.
Becker said a rude word under his breath.
“There’s no need to be like that,” Jess admonished.
“Not aimed to you…” Becker looked over to where Guinzilla was still happily entertaining both soldiers and scientists alike. Unfortunately, 700 kilos of cute furry animal still showed no signs of wanting to shift its arse any closer to the way home. “OK, you lot, off your fucking arses and get Hammy the Hamster home in time for tea!”
“No need to shout!” Jess murmured.
“Actually, there is. From where I’m standing, you’re not the only one who likes bloody guinea pigs. The whole lot of them have gone all gooey-eyed over the sodding thing. Cover your ears…,” he told her before raising his voice again. “If I have to tell you again, I’ll start looking up recipes on the ‘net. They eat a lot of this sort of thing in South America….!”
“Cover his ears!” one of the lads said. “You’ll hurt his feelings, boss!”
“I’ll hurt more than his bloody feelings if you lot don’t get off your fucking arses and get him repatriated in the next five minutes!”
His orders provoked a flurry of activity from everyone apart from the rodent in question. Guinzilla just sat there and carried on munching some more of the tasty morsels on offer while the garden centre manager went increasingly apoplectic on the sidelines.
With a roll of his eyes, Becker decided to take a direct hand in the matter.
Guinzilla stared down at him out of a pair of large, long-lashed dark eyes, his nose twitching speculatively.
“Try pushing him,” Becker ordered.
“Tried that, Action Man,” Matt commented, leaning against the wall of the building.
Becker rolled his eyes again, “Then try it again, harder.”
Two of the lads obligingly went behind Guinzilla and started to push. The recalcitrant rodent turned its head around and stared at them. A loud farting noise caused both of the men to recoil hastily, complaining loudly about the smell.
“No worse than you lot after a Friday night session, now put your fucking backs into it and get this thing shifted!”
Matt obligingly waved a large bunch of leaves in front of its nose and then stepped back.
Guinzilla finally hopped forward a metre of so, leaving behind a large pile of droppings. It clearly hadn’t been just a fart.
Matt waved the leaves again and took another step back. The nose twitched again and they were rewarded by another hop. Then forward progress ground to a halt and no amount of coaxing seemed to make any difference. Becker was extremely tempted to roll his eyes again but managed to restrain himself.
He used his knife to hack off a handful of leaves from something that looked like a banana tree. Becker then panted himself firmly in front of the giant fur-ball and tapped him on the nose with the leaves.
Guinzilla blinked in surprise but didn’t move.
Becker tried again.
It had exactly the same amount of effect.
A moment later, a flurry of excited barking came from inside the garden centre followed by an explosion of brown and white fur as a small terrier came flying out of the shop.
“Get that fucking dog out of here!” Becker yelled.
“Dog?” demanded Jess. “Oh no! Save the dog!”
Becker groaned.
Matt grinned.
One of their men tried to rugby-tackle the newcomer and failed abysmally. The dog shot between his legs and disappeared into Guineazilla’s fur, letting out a series of muffled yaps. A look of something approaching confusion settled on the rodent’s face. The creature jumped forward, back feet lashing out, probably trying to dislodge the dog, but kicking over a two metre stretch of fence instead. Becker could hear the protests from the unfortunate garden centre manager, but sensibly decided to leave him to Emily.
The sound of muffled barks was coming from somewhere in the vicinity of Guinzilla’s arse. The huge rodent stood up, shook itself and started to lope off in the direction of the anomaly, presumably with the dog still attached to its nether regions.
Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Becker stood aside and let the rodent go.
A cheer went up from the onlookers.
Guinzilla hopped up to and through the anomaly, managing to knock over and smash several large pots in the process. As it disappeared, there was the sound of another large fart and a new pile of round, black steaming turds appeared behind it.
“What’s happened to the dog?” Jess demanded.
“It’s… er… gone for a walk,” Becker said.
“Get it back!” she ordered, in a voice that would have reduced an entire parade ground to quivering obedience.
Before Becker had chance to do anything, the anomaly shivered in the afternoon sunlight, and a ball of brown and white fur came flying back through the shimmering ball of light, looking like Guinzilla had whacked it with the full force of his hind paws. One of Becker’s men fielded the Jack Russell with a catch that wouldn’t have been out of place in the last Test Match. The dog expressed its gratitude by biting its saviour on the thumb.
Never one to take any crap, Reynolds promptly lobbed the dog over the fence where was caught by a member of the garden centre’s staff. Becker hoped they were wearing gloves as the bloody thing didn’t seem to have a grateful bone in its body.
“The dog’s fine,” he told Jess. “And Guinzilla’s gone home, so you can’t keep him as a pet.
Even separated as they were, Becker could feel the weight of Jess’ disappointment.
On the way back to the ARC, the convoy pulled into a motorway service station to use and abuse the facilities and pick up some chocolate for their field controller.
Waiting for Matt to get to the head of the queue in Costa, Becker was idly browsing through the books on display when he saw something that made him think of Jess.
A guinea pig wearing a fez stared at him off the cover of a small notebook.
It wasn’t quite the same as a giant, real life guinea pig. But it was the best he was likely to get at Clackett Lane services.
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Date: 2015-08-22 11:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-08-21 10:50 pm (UTC)Loved it.
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Date: 2015-08-22 09:11 am (UTC)A happy ending! Much better than in the Murray/Parish household. :p
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Date: 2015-08-23 09:36 am (UTC)Sporfles. The poor manager ;) Love the attitudes of the soldiers and of Guinzilla - I love how you flipped things around with the creature versus the dog - and of Jess making her feelings quite clear. Well done to Becker and to you!
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Date: 2015-09-02 07:56 am (UTC)