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fredbassettTitle : The Ghost and Miss Maitland
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Abby, Connor, Jenny, Ditzy, Blade, (Ryan)
Rating : 15
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None.
Summary : Abby gets a fright. Actually, several frights and not all of them are in the middle of the night.
Warning : None.
A/N : Written for my darling Evil Twin,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
munchkinofdoom. I hope you like it, and I hope you have a fantastic birthday! Posting early, so you don’t have to wait all day for it.
The first time it happened, Abby had thought it was a trick of the light.
She’d been tired, she’d spent a long day spent chasing a herd of surprisingly fleet-footed bagaceratops. All she’d really wanted to do when she got home was take a long soak in a nice hot bath, but, typically, just when she’d thought the day couldn’t get any worse, every light bulb in the flat seemed to have chosen that moment to expire, in one case, messily.
“Connor! Have you just done something to the electrics?” she’d yelled in irritation.
“Not guilty!” he’d replied, staring in dismay at his laptop, as the light from the screen had abruptly darkened. “Bugger it, not again!”
Five minutes later, as Connor had been replacing the last of the low energy bulbs, she’d caught something out of the corner of her eye. A blurred shape, nothing more. She’d blinked and it had vanished.
She’d put it down to tiredness and thought no more about it as she’d raced Connor to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her in laughing triumph.
* * * * *
The second time had been a little more problematic.
She’d been sitting in a meeting in the ARC, in Lester’s office, only half listening to the man’s, admittedly masterful, destruction job on Cutter’s latest attempt at public relations.
Connor’s phone had let out a frantic miaowing noise. He’d rooted around in a seemingly endless succession of pockets, before fishing it out eventually in such a flap that he ended up throwing it on the floor, under Abby’s chair, still mewling. She’d reached down and reunited him with it, and had shared a quick smile with ….. someone who wasn’t there.
Lester had seen the shock on her face and had dispensed one of his usual pleasantries which she hadn’t even heard. She’d still been staring at a point on the wall now occupied by nothing more than a particularly bland picture of water-lilies.
* * * * *
By the time of the third occasion, a figure half-glimpsed over her shoulder in the ladies shower room, of all places, Abby was seriously wondering if she was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress reaction, but she’d dismissed that idea with a sniff. She was tough. She wasn’t cracking up. No way.
* * * * *
Abby had started to pour the boiling water from the kettle into her mug when she heard someone else coming into the small kitchen off the recreation room in the ARC.
“Coffee?” she asked, half turning, before screaming and pouring the entire contents of the kettle onto her left leg.
A moment later, Jenny Lewis was at her side, draping a cold wet towel onto her leg to take the heat out of the burn, and Abby was surrendering herself gratefully to the older woman’s ministration.
“What happened?” asked Jenny, with concern. “Did you slip?”
A shudder ran down Abby’s spine. “I thought I saw a …..” then her brain caught up with her mouth, and she trailed off into the words, “…... a mouse,” with some degree of embarrassment.
“A mouse?” There was no mistaking the surprise in Jenny’s voice, as she stared round at the gleaming stainless steel surfaces and spotless white tiles.
“I think I’ve been drinking too much coffee,” Abby amended, hastily.
“Come on, let’s get you down to the infirmary, so Lieutenant Owen can take a look,” said Jenny, briskly, wetting a second towel. “Better safe than sorry.”
* * * * *
The Special Forces medic held the shower head carefully over Abby’s reddened thigh and let the cold water play over the scalded flesh. Abby’s upper body was snuggled warmly in a blanket, and she’d swallowed two painkillers at Ditzy’s insistence. She was now starting to cringe inwardly at her own stupidity and curse herself for being so jumpy.
“Miss Lewis said it was a mouse,” said the soldier, staring down at her leg.
Abby clutched the blanket round her and hoped he hadn’t noticed her shudder. “It was just a shadow. I don’t know why I said a mouse to Jenny,” she finished, with a self-deprecating shrug.
Ditzy turned the water off, and gently dried the back of her leg and her foot. “Because it sounded better than saying you’d seen a ghost, maybe?”
The blanket slipped from Abby’s fingers and fell to the damp floor of the treatment room, and this time the shiver ran the full length of her body. She met the medic’s brown eyes, conscious of the fact that she was flushing with embarrassment. “Who said anything about a ghost?”
“No-one – yet,” said Ditzy, calmly, pulling the shower cubicle closed and gesturing to the narrow bed as he settled himself down in a chair. “But Lyle’s thumbs have been itching non-stop for the past week and it’s got to the stage where Kermit is refusing to go to the bog by himself, so I’m guessing something is wrong round here.”
“What’s any of that got to do with ghosts?” asked Abby, avoiding the medic’s steady gaze. “Has Lieutenant Lyle said anything?”
“Lyle? He’d sooner cut his own dick off than talk about anything like this.” Ditzy grimaced and added, “Sorry, miss.”
Abby smiled, starting to relax slightly, for the first time in several days. “I thought it was just me, that maybe I was starting to suffer from post-traumatic something or other. Then I put it down to the fact that we were all still missing him, and you know, the way things had been with him and Connor, he’d started to spend more time round at my flat and ….. I suppose I’d just got used to having him about.”
“And you think he’s still about?”
Abby’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe in ghosts. No, of course I don’t think he’s still about. He died, Ditzy, you know that, I know that, Connor knows that. We were all there when you brought his body back through the anomaly. I saw you try to resuscitate him. I was there when you gave up. It was me who went with Connor to the hospital. I was with Connor when the doctor confirmed he’d been dead on arrival.” It was my shoulder Connor cried on. That night and several since.
“He was alive when we carried him into the anomaly.” Ditzy ran a hand through his short brown hair, making it stand up in untidy spikes. “I keep wondering if that was what killed him.”
“You did everything you could for him,” said Abby, softly, shaking her head. “We all know that.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” muttered the medic. “And anyway, none of that answers the question as to why half the bloody unit are as jumpy as cats on hot bricks, like a bunch of kids after a séance.” Ditzy abruptly changed tack. “What about Connor? Has he said anything?”
“He’s going to buy a new laptop.”
Ditzy frowned. “So?”
“His old one keeps crashing. We’ve replaced four sets of low energy bulbs in the last week. The TV’s on the blink and …..”
“The ADD has thrown up three false alarms in the past two days,” the medic finished, his expression thoughtful.
“And Jenny has spent half the week haranguing Maintenance on the subject of non-functioning lifts. Lester’s blaming the contractors, and Norman says it’s all the Archangel Gabriel’s fault.”
Ditzy looked up in surprise. “Does he? He blamed Raphael on Monday. Kermit thought he was talking about the Ninja Turtles.”
“I’m not sure consistency is Norman’s strong point when it comes to his battles with the Heavenly Host,” said a smooth voice from the doorway.
Abby jumped, but was relieved to see that even Ditzy’s spider-sense had failed him on this occasion. He’d clearly been equally unaware of Jenny’s approach as well. “Jenny, you ….”
“Startled you? That much was obvious. The pair of you jumped like naughty kids. So, are either of you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to take a wild guess?”
“There’s nothing going on,” said Abby, half-heartedly.
Jenny raised a pair of perfectly groomed eyebrows and favoured them both with a glossy red smile. “I was a prefect at an all girls’ boarding school. Every other year we used to catch the juniors playing with home-made Ouija boards. I recognise the symptoms. And Kermit isn’t the only one who’s been refusing to go to the toilet by himself, is he, Abby?”
Under the onslaught of Jenny’s cool brown eyes, Abby squirmed. Damn it, she’d been certain that Jenny hadn’t noticed, even though Stephen had made the usual crack about women always going in pairs.
At exactly that moment, the Anomaly Detection Device emitted its shrill summons.
Ditzy jumped to his feet and Abby reached for her skirt.
“Ten to one says it’s another false alarm,” smiled Jenny. “My office, in ten minutes, if it is. If it isn’t, then I suggest we reconvene tomorrow.” And with that, she swept out, high heels clicking like a pair of determined woodpeckers.
The look exchanged by Abby and Ditzy acknowledged, without needing words, that they were both busted, then they trailed after her, with Abby rolling up her skirt a couple of inches at the waistband, to keep the material from rubbing against her scalded thigh.
The place appeared to be getting more like an episode of Grange Hill every day.
* * * * *
It wasn’t a false alarm, but nor did there seem to have been any creature incursion, either.
Abby stood in the darkened wood, shivering, a thick jacket and her favourite woolly scarf completely failing to make up for the fact that she was wearing nothing between her black ankle boots and the hem of her short yellow shirt.
“You can’t hang around here like that,” said Stephen, with a smile, slipping his arm round her waist in a brotherly hug. “Go home, get warmed up, and get a good night’s sleep.
She opened her mouth, trying to find a way of saying she didn’t want to be alone in the flat without making herself look like an idiot, then opted for the stranded codfish look instead, and closed it again, without speaking.
“Take Connor with you,” Stephen said, softly. “He looks like he hasn’t slept properly for a week.”
“He hasn’t slept properly since … since it happened,” she said, finishing in a rush. Which made for nearly two months of broken nights now.
“Hardly surprising.” Stephen’s voice was matter-of-fact, but that didn’t disguise the depth of his own feeling.
It had hit the whole team hard. There was no getting away from it. Abby had watched Connor come close to falling apart.
Cutter had also been devastated, guilt clearly written on his face every time she’d seen him. He’d refused counselling, they all had, preferring to take refuge in work. Struggling with the aftermath of Helen’s little bombshell hadn’t helped him much, either. To be quite truthful, it hadn’t helped any of them.
Things had only been made worse by Cutter’s insistence that the timeline had changed, that Jenny Lewis had previously been a woman named Claudia Brown, that they had done something, back in the Permian, which had brought all this about. Abby sighed, a slight squeeze from Stephen’s arm around her waist bringing her back to the here and now.
“Connor won’t leave an anomaly site,” murmured Abby, leaning against Stephen, glad of the warmth, and glad of the human contact in the darkened woods. “How have things been between you and Cutter?” It seemed easier, somehow, to talk about personal stuff in the dark.
Stephen sighed. “Distant, but can’t blame him for that.”
Abby squeezed his arm. “Don’t give up on him, Stephen. He needs you, he always has done.” She looked up at him and saw a wistful smile quirk his lips. He opened his mouth, about to speak, when a curse from the anomaly site attracted their attention.
The arc-lights set up by Lyle’s men on either side of the dancing shards of time, flickered twice, then abruptly went out.
“Sodding useless thing,” muttered Finn, bending down to try to restart the small portable generator.
The anomaly flared.
“Incoming!” yelled one of the other men, and Finn jumped backwards, swinging his rifle round.
Abby heard Connor breathe, “Wow!” as he stared down at his hand-held detector.
“Connor! What’s happening?” Cutter’s voice was redolent with alarm.
“The magnetism’s just gone off the scale!” Connor sounded equal parts excited and alarmed.
The soldiers surrounded the anomaly, the beams from their rifle-mounted torches cutting through the darkness.
“Finn! Get that fucking genny going!” yelled Lyle. “We need the lights. If anything comes through now we stand to lose it!”
“Doing my best, boss, but it doesn’t want to play ball!” Finn heaved again on the starter cord. The generator spluttered, hiccupped, and then died again.
“Keep the perimeter tight!” Lyle ordered. “Professor, Connor, move back, please! I don’t want anyone caught in cross-fire, but if something comes through, I don’t want it breaking out. Got that, people?”
Stephen gave Abby a last quick hug and moved to take his place with the soldiers.
Connor retreated, clutching both his ever-present laptop, and the hand-held detection device.
Shivering with a mixture of excitement and cold, Abby took her place at his side.
The anomaly flared to a sudden, incandescent brightness, illuminating the ring of armed men ranged around it - Lyle, Stephen on one side of him, Ditzy on the other, Blade and Kermit facing them, with Finn and Dane ranged on either side. The same six men Abby had attended numerous shouts with.
A prickle ran up her hands, and she recounted.
Her eyes ran round the loose perimeter with growing concern.
Connor was at her side. Stephen was next to Lyle, Cutter hovering anxiously at his shoulder. One … two … three … four … five. The light dimmed slightly, then brightened again, reminding her of the exploding light bulbs in her flat.
Illuminating, all too clearly, a seventh figure standing to one side, dressed in black.
Abby screamed, and to her lasting embarrassment, fainted dead away.
* * * * *
“Miss Maitland?” Ditzy’s voice was calm and reassuring, as ever. “Abby? It’s all right, you just fainted. Nothing to worry about.” His arm slid round her shoulders and he eased her up into a sitting position. “Give her some space, guys. She’ll be fine.”
The thought of a seventh figure that should not have been there, dressed from head to foot in black combat gear, standing to the side of the anomaly, sent a shiver running through Abby’s body, and she felt the medic’s arms tighten protectively around her. “I’m … I’m all right. Sorry about that. I’m fine, honestly.”
“Let’s get you back to the van,” said Ditzy, quietly, looping an arm round her waist. “You need to go home.”
Another shiver hit her at the thought of walking into an empty flat by herself. She hated doing a damsel in distress act, but needs must when … she cut that line of thought off abruptly. “Connor?”
“Connor can drive you home,” said Cutter, gently, materialising out of the darkness. “The anomaly is fading, nothing has come through. We’ll wait ‘til it’s gone, then wrap up here. Take a day off tomorrow; you’ve been pushing yourself too hard since … recently,” he amended, uncomfortably.
As ever, the unspoken name hung in the air between them.
She nodded and without a backward glance at the weakening anomaly, Abby allowed the Special Forces medic to lead her back to the car, while Cutter urged Connor to finish taking his readings and follow them.
“Did you see anything back there?” asked Abby, glancing up at Ditzy as they picked their way through the undergrowth towards the vehicles.
The medic shook his head, looking down at her enquiringly. “Did you?”
“I … I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure. It was dark, there were a lot of people and … I think I must have just miscounted, or something.” And even to her it sounded unconvincing.
“If it’s any consolation, I saw Blade jump like a scalded cat at exactly the moment you screamed. I thought the daft bugger was about to shoot his foot off.”
“Blade? Jump?” Abby was amazed, but it didn’t do anything for her level of composure. Of all the soldiers, Blade was the one who never seemed to turn a hair at anything. They were a pretty imperturbable bunch, but the words rock-steady could have been coined for him, in particular. “Are you sure it wasn’t me screaming that set him off?” Ditzy shook his head, and the gesture did nothing to lessen her feeling of unease. “Has he said anything before?”
“Nobody’s said anything,” said Ditzy, with a sigh. “But I’m betting Miss Lewis isn’t going to let the subject rest.”
“We should be so lucky,” Abby muttered, taking comfort from the fact she wasn’t likely to be the only one dangling from Jenny’s hook. She was just thankful for small mercies. Jenny could at least be avoided until the following morning.
* * * * *
Abby woke up with a start, heart thumping in her chest.
Sunlight was filtering in through the blinds, warming the room, but failing to lift the cloud of fear that had settled round her the previous night in the woods.
It was broad daylight and she was in her own flat, for goodness’ sake, what did she have to be afraid of? Making a conscious effort, Abby threw the duvet off and limped into the bathroom. Her thigh was bright red and painful, which made showering complicated. Afterwards, wrapped in a short towel, she made her way into the cavernous living area, wondering if it had been the door banging as Connor left which had woken her up so abruptly.
On top of Rex’s tank she found a hastily scribbled note: Gone to work. 8.15. C U later. She glanced at the clock. It was 9.20 now, and she’d not been more than 10 minutes in the shower, so it hadn’t been Connor’s departure which had roused her.
The coeleosaurovus stared up at her, ruffled his wings, and gave a quizzical chirrup. Abby smiled and let down the side of the tank. Rex hopped out, spread his wings, and sailed round the room, before swooping gracefully into the kitchen and perching on top of the fridge. Abby followed him.
A moment later, the lizard shrank his head down into his shoulders and hissed loudly.
“Rex? What’s the matter?” Abby’s heart immediately started hammering again and she clutched the towel tightly around her. “Rex! Calm down.” He’s picking it up from me! Breathe, you stupid girl, breathe …
A sudden noise from the living room made her squeal. Music blared out loudly, competing, a moment later, with some inane babble from the television. Abby jumped, and the towel slid to the floor. Even though there was no-one there to see – or at least she hoped there wasn’t – Abby blushed almost as red as her thigh and scrambled for the towel.
Rex chittered in what she recognised as fear, backing up against the white painted wall.
“This is getting beyond a joke!” Abby suddenly realised she was angry as well as afraid. “Stop it! Just bloody well stop it!”
Abruptly, the noise stopped.
Gathering both the towel, and as much dignity as she could muster, around her, Abby stalked back into her bedroom and started to get dressed, conscious of the fact that her hands had started to shake. This was her flat. She was not a fainting, screaming sort of female, and the fainting and screaming was going to stop right now.
With her jaw set in a firm line, and her hair standing up in wet spikes, Abby marched back into the kitchen, refusing to give in to the almost uncontrollable urge to look over her shoulder, and started to prepare Rex’s breakfast, setting the food on the table in his favourite bowl. While the lizard ate, Abby chopped dried apricots and threw them into a bowl with some muesli and yoghurt for herself.
The flat felt …. empty. In a way that it had not done only a few minutes ago. Then, she’d felt like someone was looking over her shoulder, or watching her from the corner of the room, but now the feeling had gone, leaving behind nothing but a vague, residual unease. Rex was tucking into his breakfast, showing no signs of disturbance or fear, and all electrical devices were behaving just like …. electrical devices. But whatever it had been, it hadn’t been her imagination, she knew that much.
Half an hour later, with Rex settled down, asleep in his tank, Abby went round the flat systematically unplugging everything apart from the fridge. The time taken to reset everything with an inbuilt clock would be a nightmare, but it was worth it for the peace of mind that at least she wouldn’t be disturbed by whatever was sending a big enough surge – if that was even possible – through the equipment to override the stand-by settings.
She grabbed her jacket and car-keys and was just about to pull the door closed behind her when a blast of static assaulted her ears, followed by the unctuous words of a TV presenter announcing, “And next, on Big Breakfast Special, we’re delighted to introduce the extremely talented …”
Without waiting to hear more, Abby slammed the door and bolted down the stairs.
* * * * *
Jenny Lewis looked up and smiled. “We weren’t expecting you in today. Is everything all right?”
Abby flipped the door closed behind her and eyed the older woman with something close to uncertainty. She’d worked with Jenny for nearly two months now and had come to respect her ability to variously charm and even bully, where necessary, both unsuspecting members of the general public, and the rather more suspecting reporters they came across with such disturbing frequency.
They’d shared a few moments of perfect accord, usually when dealing with Nick in one of his more stubborn moods, but that hadn’t translated into anything more than a professional relationship. They’d certainly not shared anything resembling girl-talk. Not that Abby did girl-talk, or wanted to.
She forced a smile onto her face. “I’m fine. Everything’s …. fine.”
Jenny raised an elegant eyebrow, and the expression on her beautifully made-up face indicated, without the need for words, that she knew Abby was lying through her teeth.
Abby fidgeted like a naughty school kid who had gone to see the headmistress willing to confess to a crime, only to think better of the plan rather too late.
Jenny was the first to break the silence. “Shall we go and get a coffee? That’s unless you’re still concerned about …. mice?”
That at least provided an excuse to delay what was fast becoming inevitable and Abby clutched at the suggestion, whilst at the same time mentally calling herself an idiot. She’d come into the ARC with the sole purpose of discussing her fears, but now, in the huge glass and metal monstrosity that housed the Anomaly Project, Abby found it harder to cling to the fears that had beset her, both that morning and the previous night.
Armed with a mug of coffee and a chocolate biscuit, Abby settled herself into the corner of one of the sofas and eyed Jenny warily. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” she challenged.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” said Jenny, thoughtfully. “But nor do I believe that this place has mice.”
“So what do you believe?”
“Abby, why don’t you just start at the beginning? Then it might be a bit easier for me to decide what I do believe, rather than sitting here playing Twenty Questions. Something is obviously bothering you. And something – and whether it’s the same something or not, I don’t know – is bothering several other members of staff. Three of the cleaners handed in their notice this morning and at least two members of Maintenance appear to be unwilling to venture into the Boiler Room. We’re still having unaccountable issues with electrical equipment and Oliver Leek has now seen fit to suggest that the whole place is suffering from Sick Building Syndrome. Oh, and even the soldiers have started going to the toilet in pairs.”
Abby failed in her attempt to stifle a grin.
“It’s all right for you,” snapped Jenny, irritably. “You haven’t got to deal with the bloody idiots! Lester will be furious when he finds out we need yet more cleaners.” Then her expression softened. “Abby, come on, spill the beans. I promise I won’t laugh.”
Abby shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, and leant back for a minute, trying to collect her thoughts, but before she could bring herself to speak, it started again, that prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She fought against a sudden and almost overwhelming urge to bolt from the room.
“Jenny ….”
Before Jenny could answer, the door opened and Ditzy and Blade clattered in.
The medic smiled at her, then, sniffing fresh coffee, headed in the direction of the kitchen.
In complete contrast, the other soldier came to an abrupt halt, his vivid green eyes staring straight over Abby’s head, widening in shock.
Jenny’s eyebrows shot up at the expression on Blade’s face, while Abby wrestled with mounting panic. “Richards? What are you staring at?”
Niall Richards, better known by his nickname, dragged his eyes away from the corner of the recreation room. “Nothing, ma’am.”
“Oh for pity’s sake, what’s the matter with everyone around here?” snapped Jenny, slamming her coffee mug down on a small table with a bang that caused hot liquid to slop messily over the rim.
Abby had the satisfaction of seeing Blade jump.
Ditzy stuck his head out of the kitchen and asked, “Biscuits?” Seeing the look on the other soldier’s face, the medic grinned. “Two sugars, mate? My mam always says sugar’s good for shock.”
The look Blade shot him would have cooled hell by several degrees. “Some sort of set-up, Ditz?”
Ditzy’s grin didn’t diminish one iota. “Thought it was time we all had a little chat about you-know-what. I reckon you and Miss Maitland can compare notes on all the mice you’ve both been seeing, while me and Miss Lewis have a listen and see if we can make any fucking sense out of what’s going on.” His eyes flicked over to Jenny. “’scuse my French, miss.” The amusement faded slightly from the medic’s eyes. “You nearly shot your goddamn foot off last night, mate, and don’t deny it. You and Kermit are edgier than I’ve seen you since that time in Afghanistan and I’ll be treating Lyle for bloody eczema if he doesn’t stop scratching his thumbs soon.”
Abby’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline and even Jenny looked dumbstruck. It was the longest speech either of the women had ever heard from the normally laconic medic.
A look of resignation settled on Blade’s face and the soldier rubbed uneasily at the perpetual growth of dark stubble on his jaw. With an imperious wave of her red-fingernails, Jenny gestured to the other sofa. Looking like he’d far rather face the Taliban any day, Blade sank into it and took the mug of coffee Ditzy was holding out to him.
“So what did you just see when you came in through the door?” asked Jenny, obviously deciding to go straight for the jugular.
The soldier’s eyes darted round the room and, seeing no escape, and apparently nothing else either, he met Jenny’s eyes and said, with obvious hesitation, “I thought I saw Captain ….” then his voice trailed off.
“Why won’t anyone say his name?” Jenny’s voice held genuine interest coupled with more than a hint of exasperation. “I don’t think one single person has referred to the poor man by name since …. he died. See, you’ve all got me doing it, too! Or at least if they have, I haven’t heard it. Do you realise I had to read the report to find out his name?”
Abby sat bolt upright and stared at Jenny in amazement. The other woman was right. When they could even bring themselves to talk about what had happened, they all seemed to avoid saying his name. With a mental shake of her head, she realised she was still doing exactly the same now, even though she’d already upbraided herself for that very thing.
“Not good to name the dead,” said Blade, uneasily. “My gran always says if you do, it encourages them to stay around. Prevents ‘em from …. moving on, she says.”
“Does your gran know a lot about …. ghosts?” There was no challenge in Jenny’s voice, only honest enquiry.
“Enough.” Green eyes stared back at Jenny, starting to lose their unease. “She got it from her gran, she always says.”
Jenny met his stare. “Let’s assume, for a moment, shall we, that we’re all happy to rely on your expertise in such matters. Let’s also assume that Lieutenant Lyle’s reputation for being able to sense trouble is well-founded. Let’s even go so far as to assume that we have no trouble believing in ghosts. Now with those assumptions as a base level,” sighed Jenny, “would everyone mind telling me exactly what the hell has been going on around here?”
Blade shuffled in his seat, pinned under Jenny’s gaze like a dead frog on a dissection table. “It started a couple of days after Captain …. after the captain died.” The young soldier cast an apologetic glance at the far corner of the room and continued, “At first it was only a feeling of being watched, then … I kept catching a glimpse of …. something, just out of the corner of my eye. A couple of the lads have had the same. And Kermit swears blind he saw …. him …. looking over his shoulder, in the big mirror in the showers. He hasn’t been to the bog on his own since.” The soldier grinned and started to relax slightly. “So we aren’t the only ones?”
It was Abby’s turn to shuffle. Faced with three sets of quizzical eyes, she took a gulp of coffee in a fruitless attempt to buy time and then said, “The same thing happened to me, only at first, I thought it was one of you lot in the women’s changing rooms. I was fixing my make-up. I saw someone – in the mirror - dressed in combat gear, back to me. I looked round, but there was no-one there. Then when I looked in the mirror again, the same thing happened. I freaked out and ran.”
“Reasonable reaction,” said Jenny encouragingly. “Blade?”
The soldier nodded. “Sounds much like what happened to Kermit. Dane had the same problem and he’s taken to going out for a slash in the bushes. Silly bugger thinks no-one’s noticed.”
Jenny looked pained. “I have, but we’ll not go into that. Abby?”
“Odd things started to happen. I’d switched off during one of Lester’s rants in the conference room. Connor’s phone went off, he dropped it, and when I grabbed it and looked up, I thought I saw …. him, standing behind Cutter’s chair …. smiling.”
“Did Connor see anything?” Jenny’s eyes were sharp with interest now.
Abby shook her head, the memory sending a slight shiver down her spine, and it was only with a supreme effort of will that she stopped herself from looking behind her. “Since then, we keep getting electrical problems in the flat: low energy light bulbs blowing, timers switching themselves on and off, problems with Connor’s laptop. Then it seemed to start here as well.” She looked round at the others, before deciding there was no point in holding back, and then the rest of the story tumbled out in a rush, ending with her mad dash out of her flat this morning.
Blade shot her a sympathetic look before he turned a somewhat more challenging stare in Jenny’s direction. “And the reason Ditz dragged me in here was that I saw the same thing Miss Maitland did last night.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Ditzy, with a trace of smugness.
“We’ll be getting somewhere when someone breaks this damned name taboo,” said Jenny, astringently. “You clearly thought you saw something when you came in, Niall, didn’t you?”
“I did see something,” said Blade, in a level voice, staring over Jenny’s shoulder. “I saw Captain Ryan, ma’am.”
The bang of the glass coffee jug in the kitchen exploding caused everyone in the room to jump violently.
Abby took great satisfaction in the fact that on this occasion it was Jenny Lewis who screamed. Not her.
“Bloody hell,” breathed Ditzy, staring over her shoulder. His words were low, respect mingling with fear. “Hello, boss.”
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Abby, Connor, Jenny, Ditzy, Blade, (Ryan)
Rating : 15
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None.
Summary : Abby gets a fright. Actually, several frights and not all of them are in the middle of the night.
Warning : None.
A/N : Written for my darling Evil Twin,
munchkinofdoom. I hope you like it, and I hope you have a fantastic birthday! Posting early, so you don’t have to wait all day for it.The first time it happened, Abby had thought it was a trick of the light.
She’d been tired, she’d spent a long day spent chasing a herd of surprisingly fleet-footed bagaceratops. All she’d really wanted to do when she got home was take a long soak in a nice hot bath, but, typically, just when she’d thought the day couldn’t get any worse, every light bulb in the flat seemed to have chosen that moment to expire, in one case, messily.
“Connor! Have you just done something to the electrics?” she’d yelled in irritation.
“Not guilty!” he’d replied, staring in dismay at his laptop, as the light from the screen had abruptly darkened. “Bugger it, not again!”
Five minutes later, as Connor had been replacing the last of the low energy bulbs, she’d caught something out of the corner of her eye. A blurred shape, nothing more. She’d blinked and it had vanished.
She’d put it down to tiredness and thought no more about it as she’d raced Connor to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her in laughing triumph.
* * * * *
The second time had been a little more problematic.
She’d been sitting in a meeting in the ARC, in Lester’s office, only half listening to the man’s, admittedly masterful, destruction job on Cutter’s latest attempt at public relations.
Connor’s phone had let out a frantic miaowing noise. He’d rooted around in a seemingly endless succession of pockets, before fishing it out eventually in such a flap that he ended up throwing it on the floor, under Abby’s chair, still mewling. She’d reached down and reunited him with it, and had shared a quick smile with ….. someone who wasn’t there.
Lester had seen the shock on her face and had dispensed one of his usual pleasantries which she hadn’t even heard. She’d still been staring at a point on the wall now occupied by nothing more than a particularly bland picture of water-lilies.
* * * * *
By the time of the third occasion, a figure half-glimpsed over her shoulder in the ladies shower room, of all places, Abby was seriously wondering if she was suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress reaction, but she’d dismissed that idea with a sniff. She was tough. She wasn’t cracking up. No way.
* * * * *
Abby had started to pour the boiling water from the kettle into her mug when she heard someone else coming into the small kitchen off the recreation room in the ARC.
“Coffee?” she asked, half turning, before screaming and pouring the entire contents of the kettle onto her left leg.
A moment later, Jenny Lewis was at her side, draping a cold wet towel onto her leg to take the heat out of the burn, and Abby was surrendering herself gratefully to the older woman’s ministration.
“What happened?” asked Jenny, with concern. “Did you slip?”
A shudder ran down Abby’s spine. “I thought I saw a …..” then her brain caught up with her mouth, and she trailed off into the words, “…... a mouse,” with some degree of embarrassment.
“A mouse?” There was no mistaking the surprise in Jenny’s voice, as she stared round at the gleaming stainless steel surfaces and spotless white tiles.
“I think I’ve been drinking too much coffee,” Abby amended, hastily.
“Come on, let’s get you down to the infirmary, so Lieutenant Owen can take a look,” said Jenny, briskly, wetting a second towel. “Better safe than sorry.”
* * * * *
The Special Forces medic held the shower head carefully over Abby’s reddened thigh and let the cold water play over the scalded flesh. Abby’s upper body was snuggled warmly in a blanket, and she’d swallowed two painkillers at Ditzy’s insistence. She was now starting to cringe inwardly at her own stupidity and curse herself for being so jumpy.
“Miss Lewis said it was a mouse,” said the soldier, staring down at her leg.
Abby clutched the blanket round her and hoped he hadn’t noticed her shudder. “It was just a shadow. I don’t know why I said a mouse to Jenny,” she finished, with a self-deprecating shrug.
Ditzy turned the water off, and gently dried the back of her leg and her foot. “Because it sounded better than saying you’d seen a ghost, maybe?”
The blanket slipped from Abby’s fingers and fell to the damp floor of the treatment room, and this time the shiver ran the full length of her body. She met the medic’s brown eyes, conscious of the fact that she was flushing with embarrassment. “Who said anything about a ghost?”
“No-one – yet,” said Ditzy, calmly, pulling the shower cubicle closed and gesturing to the narrow bed as he settled himself down in a chair. “But Lyle’s thumbs have been itching non-stop for the past week and it’s got to the stage where Kermit is refusing to go to the bog by himself, so I’m guessing something is wrong round here.”
“What’s any of that got to do with ghosts?” asked Abby, avoiding the medic’s steady gaze. “Has Lieutenant Lyle said anything?”
“Lyle? He’d sooner cut his own dick off than talk about anything like this.” Ditzy grimaced and added, “Sorry, miss.”
Abby smiled, starting to relax slightly, for the first time in several days. “I thought it was just me, that maybe I was starting to suffer from post-traumatic something or other. Then I put it down to the fact that we were all still missing him, and you know, the way things had been with him and Connor, he’d started to spend more time round at my flat and ….. I suppose I’d just got used to having him about.”
“And you think he’s still about?”
Abby’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe in ghosts. No, of course I don’t think he’s still about. He died, Ditzy, you know that, I know that, Connor knows that. We were all there when you brought his body back through the anomaly. I saw you try to resuscitate him. I was there when you gave up. It was me who went with Connor to the hospital. I was with Connor when the doctor confirmed he’d been dead on arrival.” It was my shoulder Connor cried on. That night and several since.
“He was alive when we carried him into the anomaly.” Ditzy ran a hand through his short brown hair, making it stand up in untidy spikes. “I keep wondering if that was what killed him.”
“You did everything you could for him,” said Abby, softly, shaking her head. “We all know that.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” muttered the medic. “And anyway, none of that answers the question as to why half the bloody unit are as jumpy as cats on hot bricks, like a bunch of kids after a séance.” Ditzy abruptly changed tack. “What about Connor? Has he said anything?”
“He’s going to buy a new laptop.”
Ditzy frowned. “So?”
“His old one keeps crashing. We’ve replaced four sets of low energy bulbs in the last week. The TV’s on the blink and …..”
“The ADD has thrown up three false alarms in the past two days,” the medic finished, his expression thoughtful.
“And Jenny has spent half the week haranguing Maintenance on the subject of non-functioning lifts. Lester’s blaming the contractors, and Norman says it’s all the Archangel Gabriel’s fault.”
Ditzy looked up in surprise. “Does he? He blamed Raphael on Monday. Kermit thought he was talking about the Ninja Turtles.”
“I’m not sure consistency is Norman’s strong point when it comes to his battles with the Heavenly Host,” said a smooth voice from the doorway.
Abby jumped, but was relieved to see that even Ditzy’s spider-sense had failed him on this occasion. He’d clearly been equally unaware of Jenny’s approach as well. “Jenny, you ….”
“Startled you? That much was obvious. The pair of you jumped like naughty kids. So, are either of you going to tell me what’s going on, or am I going to have to take a wild guess?”
“There’s nothing going on,” said Abby, half-heartedly.
Jenny raised a pair of perfectly groomed eyebrows and favoured them both with a glossy red smile. “I was a prefect at an all girls’ boarding school. Every other year we used to catch the juniors playing with home-made Ouija boards. I recognise the symptoms. And Kermit isn’t the only one who’s been refusing to go to the toilet by himself, is he, Abby?”
Under the onslaught of Jenny’s cool brown eyes, Abby squirmed. Damn it, she’d been certain that Jenny hadn’t noticed, even though Stephen had made the usual crack about women always going in pairs.
At exactly that moment, the Anomaly Detection Device emitted its shrill summons.
Ditzy jumped to his feet and Abby reached for her skirt.
“Ten to one says it’s another false alarm,” smiled Jenny. “My office, in ten minutes, if it is. If it isn’t, then I suggest we reconvene tomorrow.” And with that, she swept out, high heels clicking like a pair of determined woodpeckers.
The look exchanged by Abby and Ditzy acknowledged, without needing words, that they were both busted, then they trailed after her, with Abby rolling up her skirt a couple of inches at the waistband, to keep the material from rubbing against her scalded thigh.
The place appeared to be getting more like an episode of Grange Hill every day.
* * * * *
It wasn’t a false alarm, but nor did there seem to have been any creature incursion, either.
Abby stood in the darkened wood, shivering, a thick jacket and her favourite woolly scarf completely failing to make up for the fact that she was wearing nothing between her black ankle boots and the hem of her short yellow shirt.
“You can’t hang around here like that,” said Stephen, with a smile, slipping his arm round her waist in a brotherly hug. “Go home, get warmed up, and get a good night’s sleep.
She opened her mouth, trying to find a way of saying she didn’t want to be alone in the flat without making herself look like an idiot, then opted for the stranded codfish look instead, and closed it again, without speaking.
“Take Connor with you,” Stephen said, softly. “He looks like he hasn’t slept properly for a week.”
“He hasn’t slept properly since … since it happened,” she said, finishing in a rush. Which made for nearly two months of broken nights now.
“Hardly surprising.” Stephen’s voice was matter-of-fact, but that didn’t disguise the depth of his own feeling.
It had hit the whole team hard. There was no getting away from it. Abby had watched Connor come close to falling apart.
Cutter had also been devastated, guilt clearly written on his face every time she’d seen him. He’d refused counselling, they all had, preferring to take refuge in work. Struggling with the aftermath of Helen’s little bombshell hadn’t helped him much, either. To be quite truthful, it hadn’t helped any of them.
Things had only been made worse by Cutter’s insistence that the timeline had changed, that Jenny Lewis had previously been a woman named Claudia Brown, that they had done something, back in the Permian, which had brought all this about. Abby sighed, a slight squeeze from Stephen’s arm around her waist bringing her back to the here and now.
“Connor won’t leave an anomaly site,” murmured Abby, leaning against Stephen, glad of the warmth, and glad of the human contact in the darkened woods. “How have things been between you and Cutter?” It seemed easier, somehow, to talk about personal stuff in the dark.
Stephen sighed. “Distant, but can’t blame him for that.”
Abby squeezed his arm. “Don’t give up on him, Stephen. He needs you, he always has done.” She looked up at him and saw a wistful smile quirk his lips. He opened his mouth, about to speak, when a curse from the anomaly site attracted their attention.
The arc-lights set up by Lyle’s men on either side of the dancing shards of time, flickered twice, then abruptly went out.
“Sodding useless thing,” muttered Finn, bending down to try to restart the small portable generator.
The anomaly flared.
“Incoming!” yelled one of the other men, and Finn jumped backwards, swinging his rifle round.
Abby heard Connor breathe, “Wow!” as he stared down at his hand-held detector.
“Connor! What’s happening?” Cutter’s voice was redolent with alarm.
“The magnetism’s just gone off the scale!” Connor sounded equal parts excited and alarmed.
The soldiers surrounded the anomaly, the beams from their rifle-mounted torches cutting through the darkness.
“Finn! Get that fucking genny going!” yelled Lyle. “We need the lights. If anything comes through now we stand to lose it!”
“Doing my best, boss, but it doesn’t want to play ball!” Finn heaved again on the starter cord. The generator spluttered, hiccupped, and then died again.
“Keep the perimeter tight!” Lyle ordered. “Professor, Connor, move back, please! I don’t want anyone caught in cross-fire, but if something comes through, I don’t want it breaking out. Got that, people?”
Stephen gave Abby a last quick hug and moved to take his place with the soldiers.
Connor retreated, clutching both his ever-present laptop, and the hand-held detection device.
Shivering with a mixture of excitement and cold, Abby took her place at his side.
The anomaly flared to a sudden, incandescent brightness, illuminating the ring of armed men ranged around it - Lyle, Stephen on one side of him, Ditzy on the other, Blade and Kermit facing them, with Finn and Dane ranged on either side. The same six men Abby had attended numerous shouts with.
A prickle ran up her hands, and she recounted.
Her eyes ran round the loose perimeter with growing concern.
Connor was at her side. Stephen was next to Lyle, Cutter hovering anxiously at his shoulder. One … two … three … four … five. The light dimmed slightly, then brightened again, reminding her of the exploding light bulbs in her flat.
Illuminating, all too clearly, a seventh figure standing to one side, dressed in black.
Abby screamed, and to her lasting embarrassment, fainted dead away.
* * * * *
“Miss Maitland?” Ditzy’s voice was calm and reassuring, as ever. “Abby? It’s all right, you just fainted. Nothing to worry about.” His arm slid round her shoulders and he eased her up into a sitting position. “Give her some space, guys. She’ll be fine.”
The thought of a seventh figure that should not have been there, dressed from head to foot in black combat gear, standing to the side of the anomaly, sent a shiver running through Abby’s body, and she felt the medic’s arms tighten protectively around her. “I’m … I’m all right. Sorry about that. I’m fine, honestly.”
“Let’s get you back to the van,” said Ditzy, quietly, looping an arm round her waist. “You need to go home.”
Another shiver hit her at the thought of walking into an empty flat by herself. She hated doing a damsel in distress act, but needs must when … she cut that line of thought off abruptly. “Connor?”
“Connor can drive you home,” said Cutter, gently, materialising out of the darkness. “The anomaly is fading, nothing has come through. We’ll wait ‘til it’s gone, then wrap up here. Take a day off tomorrow; you’ve been pushing yourself too hard since … recently,” he amended, uncomfortably.
As ever, the unspoken name hung in the air between them.
She nodded and without a backward glance at the weakening anomaly, Abby allowed the Special Forces medic to lead her back to the car, while Cutter urged Connor to finish taking his readings and follow them.
“Did you see anything back there?” asked Abby, glancing up at Ditzy as they picked their way through the undergrowth towards the vehicles.
The medic shook his head, looking down at her enquiringly. “Did you?”
“I … I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure. It was dark, there were a lot of people and … I think I must have just miscounted, or something.” And even to her it sounded unconvincing.
“If it’s any consolation, I saw Blade jump like a scalded cat at exactly the moment you screamed. I thought the daft bugger was about to shoot his foot off.”
“Blade? Jump?” Abby was amazed, but it didn’t do anything for her level of composure. Of all the soldiers, Blade was the one who never seemed to turn a hair at anything. They were a pretty imperturbable bunch, but the words rock-steady could have been coined for him, in particular. “Are you sure it wasn’t me screaming that set him off?” Ditzy shook his head, and the gesture did nothing to lessen her feeling of unease. “Has he said anything before?”
“Nobody’s said anything,” said Ditzy, with a sigh. “But I’m betting Miss Lewis isn’t going to let the subject rest.”
“We should be so lucky,” Abby muttered, taking comfort from the fact she wasn’t likely to be the only one dangling from Jenny’s hook. She was just thankful for small mercies. Jenny could at least be avoided until the following morning.
* * * * *
Abby woke up with a start, heart thumping in her chest.
Sunlight was filtering in through the blinds, warming the room, but failing to lift the cloud of fear that had settled round her the previous night in the woods.
It was broad daylight and she was in her own flat, for goodness’ sake, what did she have to be afraid of? Making a conscious effort, Abby threw the duvet off and limped into the bathroom. Her thigh was bright red and painful, which made showering complicated. Afterwards, wrapped in a short towel, she made her way into the cavernous living area, wondering if it had been the door banging as Connor left which had woken her up so abruptly.
On top of Rex’s tank she found a hastily scribbled note: Gone to work. 8.15. C U later. She glanced at the clock. It was 9.20 now, and she’d not been more than 10 minutes in the shower, so it hadn’t been Connor’s departure which had roused her.
The coeleosaurovus stared up at her, ruffled his wings, and gave a quizzical chirrup. Abby smiled and let down the side of the tank. Rex hopped out, spread his wings, and sailed round the room, before swooping gracefully into the kitchen and perching on top of the fridge. Abby followed him.
A moment later, the lizard shrank his head down into his shoulders and hissed loudly.
“Rex? What’s the matter?” Abby’s heart immediately started hammering again and she clutched the towel tightly around her. “Rex! Calm down.” He’s picking it up from me! Breathe, you stupid girl, breathe …
A sudden noise from the living room made her squeal. Music blared out loudly, competing, a moment later, with some inane babble from the television. Abby jumped, and the towel slid to the floor. Even though there was no-one there to see – or at least she hoped there wasn’t – Abby blushed almost as red as her thigh and scrambled for the towel.
Rex chittered in what she recognised as fear, backing up against the white painted wall.
“This is getting beyond a joke!” Abby suddenly realised she was angry as well as afraid. “Stop it! Just bloody well stop it!”
Abruptly, the noise stopped.
Gathering both the towel, and as much dignity as she could muster, around her, Abby stalked back into her bedroom and started to get dressed, conscious of the fact that her hands had started to shake. This was her flat. She was not a fainting, screaming sort of female, and the fainting and screaming was going to stop right now.
With her jaw set in a firm line, and her hair standing up in wet spikes, Abby marched back into the kitchen, refusing to give in to the almost uncontrollable urge to look over her shoulder, and started to prepare Rex’s breakfast, setting the food on the table in his favourite bowl. While the lizard ate, Abby chopped dried apricots and threw them into a bowl with some muesli and yoghurt for herself.
The flat felt …. empty. In a way that it had not done only a few minutes ago. Then, she’d felt like someone was looking over her shoulder, or watching her from the corner of the room, but now the feeling had gone, leaving behind nothing but a vague, residual unease. Rex was tucking into his breakfast, showing no signs of disturbance or fear, and all electrical devices were behaving just like …. electrical devices. But whatever it had been, it hadn’t been her imagination, she knew that much.
Half an hour later, with Rex settled down, asleep in his tank, Abby went round the flat systematically unplugging everything apart from the fridge. The time taken to reset everything with an inbuilt clock would be a nightmare, but it was worth it for the peace of mind that at least she wouldn’t be disturbed by whatever was sending a big enough surge – if that was even possible – through the equipment to override the stand-by settings.
She grabbed her jacket and car-keys and was just about to pull the door closed behind her when a blast of static assaulted her ears, followed by the unctuous words of a TV presenter announcing, “And next, on Big Breakfast Special, we’re delighted to introduce the extremely talented …”
Without waiting to hear more, Abby slammed the door and bolted down the stairs.
* * * * *
Jenny Lewis looked up and smiled. “We weren’t expecting you in today. Is everything all right?”
Abby flipped the door closed behind her and eyed the older woman with something close to uncertainty. She’d worked with Jenny for nearly two months now and had come to respect her ability to variously charm and even bully, where necessary, both unsuspecting members of the general public, and the rather more suspecting reporters they came across with such disturbing frequency.
They’d shared a few moments of perfect accord, usually when dealing with Nick in one of his more stubborn moods, but that hadn’t translated into anything more than a professional relationship. They’d certainly not shared anything resembling girl-talk. Not that Abby did girl-talk, or wanted to.
She forced a smile onto her face. “I’m fine. Everything’s …. fine.”
Jenny raised an elegant eyebrow, and the expression on her beautifully made-up face indicated, without the need for words, that she knew Abby was lying through her teeth.
Abby fidgeted like a naughty school kid who had gone to see the headmistress willing to confess to a crime, only to think better of the plan rather too late.
Jenny was the first to break the silence. “Shall we go and get a coffee? That’s unless you’re still concerned about …. mice?”
That at least provided an excuse to delay what was fast becoming inevitable and Abby clutched at the suggestion, whilst at the same time mentally calling herself an idiot. She’d come into the ARC with the sole purpose of discussing her fears, but now, in the huge glass and metal monstrosity that housed the Anomaly Project, Abby found it harder to cling to the fears that had beset her, both that morning and the previous night.
Armed with a mug of coffee and a chocolate biscuit, Abby settled herself into the corner of one of the sofas and eyed Jenny warily. “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” she challenged.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” said Jenny, thoughtfully. “But nor do I believe that this place has mice.”
“So what do you believe?”
“Abby, why don’t you just start at the beginning? Then it might be a bit easier for me to decide what I do believe, rather than sitting here playing Twenty Questions. Something is obviously bothering you. And something – and whether it’s the same something or not, I don’t know – is bothering several other members of staff. Three of the cleaners handed in their notice this morning and at least two members of Maintenance appear to be unwilling to venture into the Boiler Room. We’re still having unaccountable issues with electrical equipment and Oliver Leek has now seen fit to suggest that the whole place is suffering from Sick Building Syndrome. Oh, and even the soldiers have started going to the toilet in pairs.”
Abby failed in her attempt to stifle a grin.
“It’s all right for you,” snapped Jenny, irritably. “You haven’t got to deal with the bloody idiots! Lester will be furious when he finds out we need yet more cleaners.” Then her expression softened. “Abby, come on, spill the beans. I promise I won’t laugh.”
Abby shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, and leant back for a minute, trying to collect her thoughts, but before she could bring herself to speak, it started again, that prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She fought against a sudden and almost overwhelming urge to bolt from the room.
“Jenny ….”
Before Jenny could answer, the door opened and Ditzy and Blade clattered in.
The medic smiled at her, then, sniffing fresh coffee, headed in the direction of the kitchen.
In complete contrast, the other soldier came to an abrupt halt, his vivid green eyes staring straight over Abby’s head, widening in shock.
Jenny’s eyebrows shot up at the expression on Blade’s face, while Abby wrestled with mounting panic. “Richards? What are you staring at?”
Niall Richards, better known by his nickname, dragged his eyes away from the corner of the recreation room. “Nothing, ma’am.”
“Oh for pity’s sake, what’s the matter with everyone around here?” snapped Jenny, slamming her coffee mug down on a small table with a bang that caused hot liquid to slop messily over the rim.
Abby had the satisfaction of seeing Blade jump.
Ditzy stuck his head out of the kitchen and asked, “Biscuits?” Seeing the look on the other soldier’s face, the medic grinned. “Two sugars, mate? My mam always says sugar’s good for shock.”
The look Blade shot him would have cooled hell by several degrees. “Some sort of set-up, Ditz?”
Ditzy’s grin didn’t diminish one iota. “Thought it was time we all had a little chat about you-know-what. I reckon you and Miss Maitland can compare notes on all the mice you’ve both been seeing, while me and Miss Lewis have a listen and see if we can make any fucking sense out of what’s going on.” His eyes flicked over to Jenny. “’scuse my French, miss.” The amusement faded slightly from the medic’s eyes. “You nearly shot your goddamn foot off last night, mate, and don’t deny it. You and Kermit are edgier than I’ve seen you since that time in Afghanistan and I’ll be treating Lyle for bloody eczema if he doesn’t stop scratching his thumbs soon.”
Abby’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline and even Jenny looked dumbstruck. It was the longest speech either of the women had ever heard from the normally laconic medic.
A look of resignation settled on Blade’s face and the soldier rubbed uneasily at the perpetual growth of dark stubble on his jaw. With an imperious wave of her red-fingernails, Jenny gestured to the other sofa. Looking like he’d far rather face the Taliban any day, Blade sank into it and took the mug of coffee Ditzy was holding out to him.
“So what did you just see when you came in through the door?” asked Jenny, obviously deciding to go straight for the jugular.
The soldier’s eyes darted round the room and, seeing no escape, and apparently nothing else either, he met Jenny’s eyes and said, with obvious hesitation, “I thought I saw Captain ….” then his voice trailed off.
“Why won’t anyone say his name?” Jenny’s voice held genuine interest coupled with more than a hint of exasperation. “I don’t think one single person has referred to the poor man by name since …. he died. See, you’ve all got me doing it, too! Or at least if they have, I haven’t heard it. Do you realise I had to read the report to find out his name?”
Abby sat bolt upright and stared at Jenny in amazement. The other woman was right. When they could even bring themselves to talk about what had happened, they all seemed to avoid saying his name. With a mental shake of her head, she realised she was still doing exactly the same now, even though she’d already upbraided herself for that very thing.
“Not good to name the dead,” said Blade, uneasily. “My gran always says if you do, it encourages them to stay around. Prevents ‘em from …. moving on, she says.”
“Does your gran know a lot about …. ghosts?” There was no challenge in Jenny’s voice, only honest enquiry.
“Enough.” Green eyes stared back at Jenny, starting to lose their unease. “She got it from her gran, she always says.”
Jenny met his stare. “Let’s assume, for a moment, shall we, that we’re all happy to rely on your expertise in such matters. Let’s also assume that Lieutenant Lyle’s reputation for being able to sense trouble is well-founded. Let’s even go so far as to assume that we have no trouble believing in ghosts. Now with those assumptions as a base level,” sighed Jenny, “would everyone mind telling me exactly what the hell has been going on around here?”
Blade shuffled in his seat, pinned under Jenny’s gaze like a dead frog on a dissection table. “It started a couple of days after Captain …. after the captain died.” The young soldier cast an apologetic glance at the far corner of the room and continued, “At first it was only a feeling of being watched, then … I kept catching a glimpse of …. something, just out of the corner of my eye. A couple of the lads have had the same. And Kermit swears blind he saw …. him …. looking over his shoulder, in the big mirror in the showers. He hasn’t been to the bog on his own since.” The soldier grinned and started to relax slightly. “So we aren’t the only ones?”
It was Abby’s turn to shuffle. Faced with three sets of quizzical eyes, she took a gulp of coffee in a fruitless attempt to buy time and then said, “The same thing happened to me, only at first, I thought it was one of you lot in the women’s changing rooms. I was fixing my make-up. I saw someone – in the mirror - dressed in combat gear, back to me. I looked round, but there was no-one there. Then when I looked in the mirror again, the same thing happened. I freaked out and ran.”
“Reasonable reaction,” said Jenny encouragingly. “Blade?”
The soldier nodded. “Sounds much like what happened to Kermit. Dane had the same problem and he’s taken to going out for a slash in the bushes. Silly bugger thinks no-one’s noticed.”
Jenny looked pained. “I have, but we’ll not go into that. Abby?”
“Odd things started to happen. I’d switched off during one of Lester’s rants in the conference room. Connor’s phone went off, he dropped it, and when I grabbed it and looked up, I thought I saw …. him, standing behind Cutter’s chair …. smiling.”
“Did Connor see anything?” Jenny’s eyes were sharp with interest now.
Abby shook her head, the memory sending a slight shiver down her spine, and it was only with a supreme effort of will that she stopped herself from looking behind her. “Since then, we keep getting electrical problems in the flat: low energy light bulbs blowing, timers switching themselves on and off, problems with Connor’s laptop. Then it seemed to start here as well.” She looked round at the others, before deciding there was no point in holding back, and then the rest of the story tumbled out in a rush, ending with her mad dash out of her flat this morning.
Blade shot her a sympathetic look before he turned a somewhat more challenging stare in Jenny’s direction. “And the reason Ditz dragged me in here was that I saw the same thing Miss Maitland did last night.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Ditzy, with a trace of smugness.
“We’ll be getting somewhere when someone breaks this damned name taboo,” said Jenny, astringently. “You clearly thought you saw something when you came in, Niall, didn’t you?”
“I did see something,” said Blade, in a level voice, staring over Jenny’s shoulder. “I saw Captain Ryan, ma’am.”
The bang of the glass coffee jug in the kitchen exploding caused everyone in the room to jump violently.
Abby took great satisfaction in the fact that on this occasion it was Jenny Lewis who screamed. Not her.
“Bloody hell,” breathed Ditzy, staring over her shoulder. His words were low, respect mingling with fear. “Hello, boss.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 10:36 pm (UTC)Loads and loads of fabulous bits in it -- I love Jenny and Ditzy in this. And I sporfled at Dane going outside for a pee. And do we get to meet Blade's gran? *g*.
no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 11:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-01-27 10:59 pm (UTC)But say you're not going to leave it there! There's got to be more, surely?
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:21 am (UTC)Yes, there will be a sequel, but I need to know Becker's first name before I post it!
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Date: 2009-01-27 11:05 pm (UTC)Abby took great satisfaction in the fact that on this occasion it was Jenny Lewis who screamed. Not her.
:-)
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:21 am (UTC)Edited for spelling fail.
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Date: 2009-01-28 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 11:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-01-28 01:57 am (UTC)*holds out bowl* Please Miss, can I have some more?
(& loved Jenny's pained notice of Dane in the bushes!)
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:23 am (UTC)See above. There will be a sequel.
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Date: 2009-01-28 02:10 am (UTC)What a creepy athmosphere, you scared the crap out of me and I'm glad I don't have to move from my very well lit living room till Spidey comes home from school!
I feel so sad for Ryan but the fact that the soldiers are going to the toilet in pairs is too bloody funny. I love Ditzy being the one trying to keep things calm and in perspective and the little sibling like moment between Abby and Stephen is great.
All in all... please tell me there is more, you can't leave poor Ryan like that please?
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Date: 2009-01-28 02:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-01-28 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-01-28 04:22 am (UTC)Having read the comments, I know everyone is freaked out and disturbed by Ryan being stuck, and found it scary - but I adored it.
Having grown up on The Ghost and Mrs Muir - both movie and tv show - I can so see Abby ending up inheriting Ryan. And the thought of the ARC having a resident ghost who has no intention of leaving that lot to blunder along without him is just wonderful.
*has visions of ghost!Ryan giving Cutter a piece of his incorporeal mind about letting the situation with Stephen fester*
Like everyone else, loved the idea of Kermit etc going to the loo in pairs, and Blade almost shooting his foot off, and Lyle probably needing skin grafts by the time this is all sorted out.
Lovely! Thank you! *smooches*
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:26 am (UTC)Well, you wanted it, so naturally it had to be written. And it turned out to be huge amounts of fun. So there will definitely be a sequel. The Ghost and Captain Becker, maybe.
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Date: 2009-01-28 06:55 am (UTC)Can't wait to see what Ryan intends to do now that they've actually noticed him!
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 07:30 am (UTC)Really spooky atmosphere. I adored the bit where there's one extra man at the anomaly site - really scary.
Are you writing more of this, please?
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:06 am (UTC)Encore soon please!
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Date: 2009-01-28 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 01:49 pm (UTC)The soldiers going to the toilets in pairs *sporfles*
And I really have to stop with the coincidental music! Just as I'm typing this the song What It Feels Like To Be A Ghost came on. Pffft.
I gather there's going to be a sequel, YAY! *vbg*
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Date: 2009-01-28 01:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-01-28 02:06 pm (UTC)Very happy to hear there will be sequel!
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Date: 2009-01-28 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 04:10 pm (UTC)I'd love to see Ryan back from the dead, although ideally in a somewhat more corporeal form!) so I didn't find it as frightening as Abby and the SF guys would have, but you conveyed their fear and unsettled feeling really well.
*sits on your doorstep waiting for the next episode*
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Date: 2009-01-28 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-01-28 05:39 pm (UTC)Oh Ryan! *sniff* The way they are all affected is so heartbreaking. Poor Lyle, and Ditzy of course is just spectacular *hugs him*
Is there more? Can there be more, please? :D
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Date: 2009-01-28 05:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-01-29 08:46 am (UTC)And I do believe you've written a woman's POV again.
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Date: 2009-01-29 08:54 am (UTC)I had to for this as Munchkin suggested the title, so I had to try and pull it off for her.
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Date: 2009-01-31 12:06 pm (UTC)We have to wait until they finally name Becker in order to get the sequel????
////“He was alive when we carried him into the anomaly.”
“I keep wondering if that was what killed him.”////
Brrr - or perhaps the anomaly did something to him, put him out of phase somehow, and they can get Ryan back!
Yay Ninja Turtles reference. Wrenching sad bits like Jenny having to read the reports to find out Ryan's name.
////“Hello, boss.”////
Great cliffhanger - can't wait to see how it all pans out.
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Date: 2009-01-31 12:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-06-03 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-04 07:16 pm (UTC)I was rather hoping we'd get Becker's first name before I wrote it, but it looks like I'll have to manage without.
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Date: 2009-07-13 04:02 am (UTC)You did the modern Ghost and Mrs Muir thing very well (I love that movie), though unfortunately I can't say I was scared. ;) I think I watch too much ghost tv, lol. Going by your comments, there's also a bit of Ghost Dad going on here perhaps....? :P
I like the dynamics here. Abby and Stephen were nice together, and I liked the little update on him and Nick.
It makes total sense for Ryan to hang around. He's not being very direct though, lol. Maybe he can't get enough energy to do more then fiddle with electronics, or he's still getting the hang of how ghostly things work.
I liked how it was mostly the other soliders that have seen him, except for Abby. I wonder, is that because everyone else is just not noticing, un- or subconciously, or is it that some people believe that not everyone can see ghosts? Or something? I guess he's staying away from Connor because he doesn't want to hurt him.
Lovely fic, I love finding new things I haven't seen done before in the universe. :)
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Date: 2009-07-13 01:44 pm (UTC)I do intend to write a sequel, which will be entitled the Ghost and Captain Becker. I now just need to get it started!
The funny thing is that I hate ghost stories and can neither read them nor watch them, as they terrify me, even the crappy ones, but I seem perfectly happy to write about them!
I have to admit that I thoroughly pinched the idea from a drabble by
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Date: 2013-01-29 08:36 am (UTC)I loved the idea of Blade being scared of the ghost!