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fredbassettTitle : In His Image
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Becker, Danny, Abby, Jenny
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Some things are better left in obscurity.
A/N : Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
primeval_denial monthly challenge for April for the poetry prompt
“If I wanted to star in One Man and his Fucking Dog I’d get a fucking collie.” Becker had a look of deep disgust on his face as he stared at a pen full of small horned dinosaurs that the team had spent the afternoon chasing around the New Forest.
“They don’t take their shotguns into the show ring, soldier boy.” Danny was leaning against a tree, mopping the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his teeshirt, looking distinctly red in the face.
Abby stared thoughtfully at the sheep-sized dinosaurs. “That might not be such a bad idea,,,.”
“Shotguns?” Becker said hopefully.
Abby rolled her eyes. “No, sheepdogs.”
“Lester’s allergic to dog hair,” Jenny said quickly. Although the idea of using dogs to corral the scientists when they were off on a frolic of their own did have some merit. “Now come on, people, let’s get this lot repatriated before the anomaly starts to fade.”
“Slave-driver,” Danny muttered. “All right, everyone grab a dinosaur!”
Fifteen minutes later, the last snorting, squealing ceratopsian had been carried through the anomaly, but the team still hadn’t come back. Jenny exchanged concerned glances with Becker’s second-in-command, a dour Yorkshireman with flint-hard eyes and a sense of humour as dry the desert she’d been told was on the other side of the anomaly.
“I’ll take a look, ma’am,” he said, swinging his rifle off his shoulder.
“I’m coming with you,” Jenny declared, glad she’d come to work in a pair of sensible boots that day.
Sergeant Matheson knew better than to argue with her but, as a concession to his sensibilities, she let him go through first.
Bright sunshine made her blink as her boots sunk a couple of inches in soft sand and she wobbled slightly, looking around for what had caused the delay, glad of Matheson’s comforting presence at her side.
“What the fuckin’ hell…?” the soldier said, looking across an expanse of flat, golden sand, quickly adding, “Sorry, ma’am.”
The protoceratops herd had already made themselves scare, but Danny and the others were standing around, staring at something half-buried in the sand about 30 metres away from the anomaly. A couple of enormous stone legs towered above them, while all around huge chunks what must have once been a gargantuan statue lay broken on the ground.
Jenny grimaced. She’d been forced to learn Shelley’s poem by heart at school and had never liked it, but the words started running through her head. “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone, stand in the desert,” she said quietly.
“We did that one in class, too,” Matheson said. “Shall we take a look, too, ma’am?”
Without waiting for her answer, the sergeant strode across the soft sand while she did her best to follow without floundering too much.
As she reached the others, Jenny could see they were all looking down at an enormous lump of stone carved into a face. The surface was pitted by wind and sand, and large cracks ran through the block, but even so, there was no mistaking the shape of the aquiline nose, the faint sneer on the thin lips and the ever-present disapproving frown. Shelley had been right when he’d referred to the sneer of cold command. She’d always thought the poet had simply had a vivid imagination. She’d never guessed he might have stepped through an anomaly at some point and seen this for himself.
Jenny would have recognised that cleverly carved face anywhere, even if she hadn’t seen it only that morning in the team’s 9am briefing.
“No photos!” she said sharply, glaring at Danny, who’d pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’s got a big enough head already without seeing this!”
“It’s the guv’nor, all right,” Danny said, his craggy face split by a wide grin. “Looks just like him.”
Danny was right. This was one report that was very definitely going to need severe editing.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Becker, Danny, Abby, Jenny
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Some things are better left in obscurity.
A/N : Written for the
primeval_denial monthly challenge for April for the poetry prompt“If I wanted to star in One Man and his Fucking Dog I’d get a fucking collie.” Becker had a look of deep disgust on his face as he stared at a pen full of small horned dinosaurs that the team had spent the afternoon chasing around the New Forest.
“They don’t take their shotguns into the show ring, soldier boy.” Danny was leaning against a tree, mopping the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his teeshirt, looking distinctly red in the face.
Abby stared thoughtfully at the sheep-sized dinosaurs. “That might not be such a bad idea,,,.”
“Shotguns?” Becker said hopefully.
Abby rolled her eyes. “No, sheepdogs.”
“Lester’s allergic to dog hair,” Jenny said quickly. Although the idea of using dogs to corral the scientists when they were off on a frolic of their own did have some merit. “Now come on, people, let’s get this lot repatriated before the anomaly starts to fade.”
“Slave-driver,” Danny muttered. “All right, everyone grab a dinosaur!”
Fifteen minutes later, the last snorting, squealing ceratopsian had been carried through the anomaly, but the team still hadn’t come back. Jenny exchanged concerned glances with Becker’s second-in-command, a dour Yorkshireman with flint-hard eyes and a sense of humour as dry the desert she’d been told was on the other side of the anomaly.
“I’ll take a look, ma’am,” he said, swinging his rifle off his shoulder.
“I’m coming with you,” Jenny declared, glad she’d come to work in a pair of sensible boots that day.
Sergeant Matheson knew better than to argue with her but, as a concession to his sensibilities, she let him go through first.
Bright sunshine made her blink as her boots sunk a couple of inches in soft sand and she wobbled slightly, looking around for what had caused the delay, glad of Matheson’s comforting presence at her side.
“What the fuckin’ hell…?” the soldier said, looking across an expanse of flat, golden sand, quickly adding, “Sorry, ma’am.”
The protoceratops herd had already made themselves scare, but Danny and the others were standing around, staring at something half-buried in the sand about 30 metres away from the anomaly. A couple of enormous stone legs towered above them, while all around huge chunks what must have once been a gargantuan statue lay broken on the ground.
Jenny grimaced. She’d been forced to learn Shelley’s poem by heart at school and had never liked it, but the words started running through her head. “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone, stand in the desert,” she said quietly.
“We did that one in class, too,” Matheson said. “Shall we take a look, too, ma’am?”
Without waiting for her answer, the sergeant strode across the soft sand while she did her best to follow without floundering too much.
As she reached the others, Jenny could see they were all looking down at an enormous lump of stone carved into a face. The surface was pitted by wind and sand, and large cracks ran through the block, but even so, there was no mistaking the shape of the aquiline nose, the faint sneer on the thin lips and the ever-present disapproving frown. Shelley had been right when he’d referred to the sneer of cold command. She’d always thought the poet had simply had a vivid imagination. She’d never guessed he might have stepped through an anomaly at some point and seen this for himself.
Jenny would have recognised that cleverly carved face anywhere, even if she hadn’t seen it only that morning in the team’s 9am briefing.
“No photos!” she said sharply, glaring at Danny, who’d pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’s got a big enough head already without seeing this!”
“It’s the guv’nor, all right,” Danny said, his craggy face split by a wide grin. “Looks just like him.”
Danny was right. This was one report that was very definitely going to need severe editing.
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no subject
Date: 2016-04-27 06:01 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2016-04-27 09:34 pm (UTC)That was perfectly brilliant!
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Date: 2016-04-28 06:37 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2016-04-27 10:19 pm (UTC)No, loads of photos, please! *g*
Bad Jenny, Lester needs to know, at least to see his face then *g*
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Date: 2016-04-28 06:38 am (UTC)no subject
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