fredbassett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fredbassett) wrote2018-12-18 10:35 pm
fredbassett) wrote2018-12-18 10:35 pm
Entry tags:
Fic, Every Photo Tells a Story, Claudia/Lorraine, 12
Title : Every Photo Tells a Story
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Claudia/Lorraine
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : A photograph makes Claudia question her own existence. Lorraine is a good listener
A/N : Another long overdue fandom stocking re-post!
“That’s a nice picture of the two of you.” Lorraine set a mug of tea down in front of Claudia on the coffee table in the break room. “When was it taken?”
Claudia jumped slightly. It was clear she hadn’t realised Lorraine was there. She looked up, the shutters that Lorraine had come to recognise at ten paces sliding down in front of her brown eyes. “Thanks for the tea.”
Lorraine could take a hint, especially when it was hammered between her eyes with a six-inch nail and a mallet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Claudia sighed. “You weren’t. I’m sorry I snapped.”
“You said thanks for the tea. That’s not snapping. I work for Lester, remember. He wrote the manual on snapping. I believe it currently runs to 18 volumes. With appendices.”
A smile lightened Claudia’s face. “You’re a saint. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Danny Quinn, when I didn’t dob him in over last week’s outrageous expense claim.”
“The one where he bought cream buns for the field team after the shout in Dulwich and then claimed they were for a bunch of traumatised school kids? I thought that one was quite minor in the great scheme of things.”
“It was. I was thinking of the damages claim for the off-licence in Walthamstow.”
“You mean the booze for the piss up he threw for Becker’s lads?”
“That’s the one. Did he really think Lester doesn’t know?”
That drew a laugh. “I’m never quite sure what Danny thinks. The soldiers like him, though.”
“If the bill for buns and booze is anything to go by, they certainly should do.” Lorraine perched on the arm of the sofa. “I really can’t be bothered to cook tonight. Do you fancy going for an Italian? My treat.”
Claudia tucked the dog-eared photo away into her purse. “That would be lovely. But how about we compromise, and you let me buy the wine?”
Lorraine hadn’t worked for the civil service since leaving university without learning to compromise. “It’s a deal.”
****
Six hours later, after possibly the best spaghetti carbonara Claudia had ever eaten, she pushed her chair back and took a sip of the excellent red wine Lorraine had ordered. She’d be going home in a taxi.
“I think I owe you an explanation,” she said.
Lorraine shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Claudia held up a hand. “Let me do this. It’s time I got it off my chest.” She opened her bag, took out her purse and put the photo she’d been looking at on the break room on the table. “This came from the box of things that was cleared out of Nick’s office. It was the only thing I kept. He didn’t have any family, so there was no one to ask if they minded.”
“It’s a lovely photo,” Lorraine said, her dark eyes soft with compassion.
“Yes, it is. But it’s not me, Lorraine. She’s a woman called Jenny Lewis.”
Lorraine’s eyes widened. “The woman the professor kept talking about?”
“The woman I used to be. I didn’t believe Nick when he talked about her. I thought he was just being…”
“Eccentric?” Lorraine volunteered, remembering Lester’s frequent comments on their late chief scientist’s metal health.
“Bloody infuriating.”
“I did wonder.” Lorraine took a drink of her wine, looking thoughtful. “He did a good job of covering it up, but he didn’t always succeed. He spent an entire afternoon one day going through the incident logs. That was after Lester referred to something in a meeting that he clearly had no memory of. And he asked some very odd questions, such as when we’d moved back to the Home Office. He seemed surprised when I told him we’d never left.”
“I thought the same until I saw the photograph.” Claudia picked it up and looked at it in the light of the candle and then handed it to Lorraine. “Can you tell the difference?”
Lorraine took the photo and looked closely at it and then at Claudia. “Her hair’s different, and she’s wearing more make up than you. But apart from that, I’d still think she was you if I bumped into her in the street.”
“If Nick was right, I used to be someone else, and then something changed. I changed. He came through an anomaly and Jenny Lewis was gone. And I’d taken her place. Just one change. It’s hard to believe anything could cause that.”
Lorraine shook her head. “Not just one change. I heard him ask Connor what he knew about the Anomaly Research Centre. Connor didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, and neither did I. So more changed than just you, Claudia.”
“I wish I’d asked him about her. She looks like me but she’d not me. And now I’ll never know who I was.”
Lorraine reached out and rested her hand on top of Claudia’s. Her hand was warm and soft. Claudia turned hers so they were palm to palm and Lorraine gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re a woman called Claudia Brown. You have parents who love you, friends who love you, colleagues who like and respect you. You’re yourself, Claudia. That’s who you are.”
Claudia smiled, and Lorraine’s words almost reached that small shard of ice that had lodged in her heart the moment she’d seen the photograph. Almost but not quite.
She tucked the photograph back into her purse. “Thank you. I wish I’d told you earlier.”
And she wished she’d asked Nick Cutter to tell her about the woman called Jenny Lewis.
But it was too late for that now.
****
A week later, after a difficult day spent acting as Lester’s gopher in a series of increasingly soul-destroying budget meetings with the Treasury, Claudia dropped her hastily typed-up meeting notes on Lester’s desk and was about to head home when the door to the outer office opened and Lorraine walked in, her coat on and handbag over her shoulder.
She smiled warmly. “You survived.”
Claudia rolled her eyes. “That’s a matter of opinion. Have you got to dash, or do you fancy a drink?”
“I’d love one. No, make that two.”
Two gin and tonics later in the nearest pub to Marsham Street, Claudia felt the stresses of the day finally sliding away. Lorraine was excellent company and had demonstrated a previously unremarked gift for mimicry when describing Lester’s latest passage of arms with Danny on the ex-copper’s latest creative expense claims.
When Claudia had finished laughing, she downed what was left of her G&T and asked, “Fancy another one and something to eat? I can recommend their tapas.”
“Beats drinking on an empty stomach.”
The food was good, the company was even better, and the evening flew by. It was a long time since Claudia had felt so relaxed in anyone’s company. Telling Lorraine about Jenny Lewis had played a huge part in that. Her gran’s favourite maxim about a trouble shared came back to mind and she smiled. Her gran had always taken great delight in being proved right.
They left the pub at closing time, arm in arm. The walk to the tube was blustery, with a touch of fog in the air. Claudia pulled out her Oyster card out of her purse and as they prepared to part company, she blurted, “Come back for a night cap. The spare room is always made up…”
Lorraine’s usually serious face wore a wide smile. “That would be lovely.”
Half an hour later, Claudia was fumbling for her keys on the doorstep, with Loraine doing her best to shield them both from a sudden rainstorm with an inadequately-sized umbrella. Pressed together in the narrow hall, they wriggled out of their wet coats and kicked off equally wet shoes.
“Towels and a hot toddy,” Claudia announced.
“I like your style.”
Ten minutes later, with their hair up in warm towels and steaming mugs of hot whisky, infused with lemon and honey in hand, they curled up on the large sofa in Claudia’s living room., Lorraine’s feet tucked into a pair of fluffy white hotel slippers.
“Do you ever wish you did a normal job?” Lorraine asked. “One with fewer dinosaurs?”
“It’s funny how no one ever mentions dinosaurs in interviews.” Claudia sipped her drink, giving the question the sort of deep thought that accompanied four G&Ts and a hefty slug of whisky. “I’m not sure what I expected when I applied to join the civil service. But it certainly wasn’t this.” She reached out and laid her hand on Lorraine’s arm. “Do you think I really was a woman called Jenny Lewis?”
Lorraine shook her head emphatically and the white towel around her hair wobbled like an overly-large blancmange. “Makes no sense at all. I saw a programme on the Discovery Channel last week about the possibility of parallel universes. That makes more sense to me.”
“So somewhere there’s a woman called Jenny Lewis wondering who Claudia Brown was?”
Lorraine shrugged. “Maybe. After all, what’s parallel universes when we already deal with dinosaurs and rips in time?” She put her hand on Claudia’s. “You’re your own self, Claudia, not a shadow of someone else. I won’t say forget Jenny Lewis because I know that’s never going to happen. But learn to live with her. She looks like the sort of woman I’d be happy to call a friend.”
Claudia smiled. “If she does exist, I hope she has someone like you to help her put things in context.”
Lorraine leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Claudia’s cheek. Claudia turned her head and let the kiss slide over her lips.
Lorraine drew back slightly, a question in her eyes.
Claudia hoped her smile was answer enough.
A kiss that tasted deliciously sharp and sweet told her that it was.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Claudia/Lorraine
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : A photograph makes Claudia question her own existence. Lorraine is a good listener
A/N : Another long overdue fandom stocking re-post!
“That’s a nice picture of the two of you.” Lorraine set a mug of tea down in front of Claudia on the coffee table in the break room. “When was it taken?”
Claudia jumped slightly. It was clear she hadn’t realised Lorraine was there. She looked up, the shutters that Lorraine had come to recognise at ten paces sliding down in front of her brown eyes. “Thanks for the tea.”
Lorraine could take a hint, especially when it was hammered between her eyes with a six-inch nail and a mallet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Claudia sighed. “You weren’t. I’m sorry I snapped.”
“You said thanks for the tea. That’s not snapping. I work for Lester, remember. He wrote the manual on snapping. I believe it currently runs to 18 volumes. With appendices.”
A smile lightened Claudia’s face. “You’re a saint. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Danny Quinn, when I didn’t dob him in over last week’s outrageous expense claim.”
“The one where he bought cream buns for the field team after the shout in Dulwich and then claimed they were for a bunch of traumatised school kids? I thought that one was quite minor in the great scheme of things.”
“It was. I was thinking of the damages claim for the off-licence in Walthamstow.”
“You mean the booze for the piss up he threw for Becker’s lads?”
“That’s the one. Did he really think Lester doesn’t know?”
That drew a laugh. “I’m never quite sure what Danny thinks. The soldiers like him, though.”
“If the bill for buns and booze is anything to go by, they certainly should do.” Lorraine perched on the arm of the sofa. “I really can’t be bothered to cook tonight. Do you fancy going for an Italian? My treat.”
Claudia tucked the dog-eared photo away into her purse. “That would be lovely. But how about we compromise, and you let me buy the wine?”
Lorraine hadn’t worked for the civil service since leaving university without learning to compromise. “It’s a deal.”
****
Six hours later, after possibly the best spaghetti carbonara Claudia had ever eaten, she pushed her chair back and took a sip of the excellent red wine Lorraine had ordered. She’d be going home in a taxi.
“I think I owe you an explanation,” she said.
Lorraine shook her head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Claudia held up a hand. “Let me do this. It’s time I got it off my chest.” She opened her bag, took out her purse and put the photo she’d been looking at on the break room on the table. “This came from the box of things that was cleared out of Nick’s office. It was the only thing I kept. He didn’t have any family, so there was no one to ask if they minded.”
“It’s a lovely photo,” Lorraine said, her dark eyes soft with compassion.
“Yes, it is. But it’s not me, Lorraine. She’s a woman called Jenny Lewis.”
Lorraine’s eyes widened. “The woman the professor kept talking about?”
“The woman I used to be. I didn’t believe Nick when he talked about her. I thought he was just being…”
“Eccentric?” Lorraine volunteered, remembering Lester’s frequent comments on their late chief scientist’s metal health.
“Bloody infuriating.”
“I did wonder.” Lorraine took a drink of her wine, looking thoughtful. “He did a good job of covering it up, but he didn’t always succeed. He spent an entire afternoon one day going through the incident logs. That was after Lester referred to something in a meeting that he clearly had no memory of. And he asked some very odd questions, such as when we’d moved back to the Home Office. He seemed surprised when I told him we’d never left.”
“I thought the same until I saw the photograph.” Claudia picked it up and looked at it in the light of the candle and then handed it to Lorraine. “Can you tell the difference?”
Lorraine took the photo and looked closely at it and then at Claudia. “Her hair’s different, and she’s wearing more make up than you. But apart from that, I’d still think she was you if I bumped into her in the street.”
“If Nick was right, I used to be someone else, and then something changed. I changed. He came through an anomaly and Jenny Lewis was gone. And I’d taken her place. Just one change. It’s hard to believe anything could cause that.”
Lorraine shook her head. “Not just one change. I heard him ask Connor what he knew about the Anomaly Research Centre. Connor didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, and neither did I. So more changed than just you, Claudia.”
“I wish I’d asked him about her. She looks like me but she’d not me. And now I’ll never know who I was.”
Lorraine reached out and rested her hand on top of Claudia’s. Her hand was warm and soft. Claudia turned hers so they were palm to palm and Lorraine gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re a woman called Claudia Brown. You have parents who love you, friends who love you, colleagues who like and respect you. You’re yourself, Claudia. That’s who you are.”
Claudia smiled, and Lorraine’s words almost reached that small shard of ice that had lodged in her heart the moment she’d seen the photograph. Almost but not quite.
She tucked the photograph back into her purse. “Thank you. I wish I’d told you earlier.”
And she wished she’d asked Nick Cutter to tell her about the woman called Jenny Lewis.
But it was too late for that now.
****
A week later, after a difficult day spent acting as Lester’s gopher in a series of increasingly soul-destroying budget meetings with the Treasury, Claudia dropped her hastily typed-up meeting notes on Lester’s desk and was about to head home when the door to the outer office opened and Lorraine walked in, her coat on and handbag over her shoulder.
She smiled warmly. “You survived.”
Claudia rolled her eyes. “That’s a matter of opinion. Have you got to dash, or do you fancy a drink?”
“I’d love one. No, make that two.”
Two gin and tonics later in the nearest pub to Marsham Street, Claudia felt the stresses of the day finally sliding away. Lorraine was excellent company and had demonstrated a previously unremarked gift for mimicry when describing Lester’s latest passage of arms with Danny on the ex-copper’s latest creative expense claims.
When Claudia had finished laughing, she downed what was left of her G&T and asked, “Fancy another one and something to eat? I can recommend their tapas.”
“Beats drinking on an empty stomach.”
The food was good, the company was even better, and the evening flew by. It was a long time since Claudia had felt so relaxed in anyone’s company. Telling Lorraine about Jenny Lewis had played a huge part in that. Her gran’s favourite maxim about a trouble shared came back to mind and she smiled. Her gran had always taken great delight in being proved right.
They left the pub at closing time, arm in arm. The walk to the tube was blustery, with a touch of fog in the air. Claudia pulled out her Oyster card out of her purse and as they prepared to part company, she blurted, “Come back for a night cap. The spare room is always made up…”
Lorraine’s usually serious face wore a wide smile. “That would be lovely.”
Half an hour later, Claudia was fumbling for her keys on the doorstep, with Loraine doing her best to shield them both from a sudden rainstorm with an inadequately-sized umbrella. Pressed together in the narrow hall, they wriggled out of their wet coats and kicked off equally wet shoes.
“Towels and a hot toddy,” Claudia announced.
“I like your style.”
Ten minutes later, with their hair up in warm towels and steaming mugs of hot whisky, infused with lemon and honey in hand, they curled up on the large sofa in Claudia’s living room., Lorraine’s feet tucked into a pair of fluffy white hotel slippers.
“Do you ever wish you did a normal job?” Lorraine asked. “One with fewer dinosaurs?”
“It’s funny how no one ever mentions dinosaurs in interviews.” Claudia sipped her drink, giving the question the sort of deep thought that accompanied four G&Ts and a hefty slug of whisky. “I’m not sure what I expected when I applied to join the civil service. But it certainly wasn’t this.” She reached out and laid her hand on Lorraine’s arm. “Do you think I really was a woman called Jenny Lewis?”
Lorraine shook her head emphatically and the white towel around her hair wobbled like an overly-large blancmange. “Makes no sense at all. I saw a programme on the Discovery Channel last week about the possibility of parallel universes. That makes more sense to me.”
“So somewhere there’s a woman called Jenny Lewis wondering who Claudia Brown was?”
Lorraine shrugged. “Maybe. After all, what’s parallel universes when we already deal with dinosaurs and rips in time?” She put her hand on Claudia’s. “You’re your own self, Claudia, not a shadow of someone else. I won’t say forget Jenny Lewis because I know that’s never going to happen. But learn to live with her. She looks like the sort of woman I’d be happy to call a friend.”
Claudia smiled. “If she does exist, I hope she has someone like you to help her put things in context.”
Lorraine leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Claudia’s cheek. Claudia turned her head and let the kiss slide over her lips.
Lorraine drew back slightly, a question in her eyes.
Claudia hoped her smile was answer enough.
A kiss that tasted deliciously sharp and sweet told her that it was.