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Primeval fic: No Matter What the Ending (1/7)

June 22nd, 2015 (02:59 pm)

feeling: annoyed

Working Title: No Matter What the Ending (My Life Begins With You) 1/7

Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval.

A/N: This is based on the lovely, lovely art by lsellersfic for the primeval_denial Art Challenge. Make sure you check it out here. Somehow, my muse came up with this crazy not-so-little fic as a result. Beta work was kindly done by kristen_mara, who tried so hard to make sure this plot made some kind of sense. If it doesn’t, the fault is entirely my own. Parts will be posted daily until completion. Additional artwork was also graciously provided by the multitalented lsellersfic.

Summary: Paradise isn’t an ending at all. It’s a beginning. With the whole story left to be told.



Abby still remembers the moment when she knew, beyond all doubt, what she wanted to be when she grew up. She was seven years old, and Robbie Dayton put a lizard down her shirt. She squealed, writhing as the small feet scampered across her skin, dancing wildly until the little creature ran down her arm and she caught it in her hand.

There was a moment, then, when she thought about throwing it. When she thought about flinging it right back at Robbie and his stupid gap-tooth grin.

But she could feel its heartbeat, the rapid pulse along the palm of her hand, and when she finally stilled, it stood frozen in her hand, waiting for her to move.

This was the moment, they both knew. The defining moment in both their lives. From here, everything would be different. Abby knew exactly what her future would hold.

Honestly, to Abby, it’s a bit like a fairy tale.

Girl meets boy. Boy teases girl with lizard.

Girl and lizard live happily ever after.


That’s the problem with being seven, though. You know how it starts, but you don’t know how it ends.

Funnily enough, Abby has the same problem at 27.

It’s not that the endings are hard.

It’s just that they never seem to come.

And when they do?

Well, that’s the moment you’re not ready for it at all.


It’s like deja vu, really. When Abby sees Rex, he’s unlike anything she’s ever worked with or studied before. But she can still feel the pulse of his heart, rapid against the palm of her hand.

And she knows this is the start of something.

Something she’ll see through to whatever end may come.


Of course, she doesn’t expect it to be like this.

Anomalies, rifts in time, top secret project. She’s sworn to secrecy and risks her life chasing insects, creatures and dinosaurs around London.

This is what she knows.

The rest, she has to admit, is harder.

Because anomalies. Rifts in time.

Abby’s a zoologist; she knows animals. Her knowledge of biology is fairly complex, but physics? Advanced quantum mechanics?

There’s some comfort, at least, in knowing it can’t get any weirder.

Of course, then it does.

Of course.


One second, Abby is chasing Rex around her flat. The next, she’s falling through anomaly and landing a cold, stone floor she doesn’t recognize.

Worse, she’s in her knickers.

Granted, her life is pretty weird these days, but this is a bit more than she’s used to.

“Um,” she says, getting shakily to her feet. It’s not a room she recognizes. There is a large console full of computers with a wall of monitors directly behind it. The room is anchored by a large mahogany desk, which is finished with ornate scrollwork along its edges. Rex is nowhere to be seen. “Hello?”

“Oh, there you are!” a man says in a far too chipper tone. He’s sitting behind a desk and hastily sets a china teacup on a saucer. He’s wearing a trim suit with a waistcoat and his brown hair is meticulously groomed. His rugged nose is ust slightly crooked, and his face is framed by a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. “Ironically, I lost track of time.”

It seems to be a joke, but Abby doesn’t get the punchline. “Where am I?” she asks. She wonders if she’s somehow fallen through an anomaly in her flat, or if she’s fallen and hit her head.

“You’re at a castle,” he says. “A big one, too, but honestly that’s not the important question.”

Abby raises her eyebrows.

“The important question,” he continues, holding his index finger up with some amount of enthusiasm. “Is when.

Abby doesn’t see how that’s any more pressing, considering that she should be back in her flat, trying to keep Rex from shredding her bras.

The man’s apparent good humor fades a little as he scrutinizes her a bit more. “Though I guess a good question for you might be: where are your pants?

Abby looks down, still a bit too shocked to be embarrassed. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

“Yes, yes,” the man says, sounding a bit resigned as he pushes his chair back and gets to his feet. “I suppose we should start at the beginning.”

“Okay,” Abby says. It says something about her tolerance for the strange and unknown that she doesn’t feel given to panic yet, but she does secretly wish she had a weapon on her, just in case.

“But maybe first we should get you some pants,” he suggests. “Because this might take a while.”


Somehow, the man has an entire wardrobe that is perfectly suited for Abby’s needs. He give her some privacy in what looks like a bedroom, and she takes her time while she tries to take it all in.

It’s actually a rather nice room, and there’s a good view of what she can only assume is the English countryside. There are no other buildings in the vicinity, and even when she’s squinting, she can’t make out any other sign of civilization.

This is a bit odd, to say the least, but not as odd as the ancient walls being equipped with full electricity and Internet. And in here, she swears the floors are heated.

For a moment, she considers trying to escape. The window would be hard to get out -- the drop is fairly substantial, but she has some ability sneaking around. She might be able to pull it off.

Somehow, though, she feels disinclined for that. She doesn’t feel threatened; she doesn’t feel overly unnerved. It’s strange, to be sure, but Abby has a pretty high bar for weird these days.

Besides, something fits here, and it’s not just the pants. There’s something familiar about it, and Abby knows that while humans have evolved to forget some of their baser instincts, the impulse of fight or flight is still strong enough.

And she is experiencing neither.

if nothing else, it’s a pragmatic decision. If this man is offering answers, then Abby feels compelled to hear him out. Given how many questions she has these days, she’s willing to entertain solutions, wherever they may come.

Or whenever, as the case may be.


Back in the hall, the man leads her to a sitting room. It’s more formal than the bedroom, with decadent tapestries and an opulent rug. He pours himself a cup of tea, and offers her some, but she declines.

“It might help you to calm down,” he says, looking almost hopeful.

She shakes her head. “I want to know where I am.”

He sighs, sitting back. “I told you, that’s not the answer you’re really looking for.”

“Yes, it is,” she says. “If you don’t tell me where I am, I’m going to break out of here and find out for myself.”

He doesn’t appear particularly threatened; if anything, he appears bemused. “That would be harder than you think.”

Abby draws a breath and feels her frustration start to build. “You promised answers--”

“I know, I know,” he says, holding up a hand.

“So tell me,” Abby demands. “Where am I?”

He appears a little disappointed. “The ARC,” he announces. “You’re at the ARC.”

And that, Abby realizes, is when things start to get really weird.


“I don’t understand,” Abby says, looking around in confusion. “The what?”

“Oh, right, wrong timeline for you,” he says. “The ARC is the Anomaly Research Centre, as it is known more officially in the other timelines.”

Abby’s brow furrows. “Other timelines?”

The man shrugs, almost a little apologetic. “Let’s just say that your version of the Home Office will become the ARC, and this is what the ARC will eventually become. More or less.”

Abby stares at him.

The man makes a face. “Temporal mechanics are messy,” he says. “Don’t you watch Dr. Who?”

“This isn’t science fiction, though,” Abby says.

“Come on, love,” he says, fond and tired all at once. “It might as well be.”


He sounds like a madman.

The idea of it, that this castle was built outside of time, to represent a constant, present force in the universe. The only place where truth could be known; the only place where time could be well and truly tracked for the ultimate preservation of mankind.

It was ludicrous.

But then, Abby has spent the last year chasing dinosaurs around London, so it’s not as crazy as it seems.

“So this is what the project becomes?” she clarifies. “The ARC?”

The man shrugs. “More like what it’s always been,” he says.

“Uh huh,” Abby says noncommittally. “And how did I end up here?”

“Oh, well that’s relatively simple,” he says, pleased by a question he seems confident in answering.

Abby stares at him, expectant.

He wets his lips. “I mean, the actual physics of it aren’t simple,” he continues, making a vague motion with his hand. “There are calculations, and there are certain guidelines, and honestly the precision involved is a bit intense--”

Abby just keeps staring.

He clears his throat. “Right,” he says. “The short of it is, I brought you here as a necessity.”

“A necessity to what?” Abby asks.

“Oh,” he says, looking genuinely surprised. “I thought that was obvious.”

Abby’s expression suggests anything but.

“Right,” he says again, swallowing awkwardly. “It was a necessity to save the world, of course. And more than that.”

“I don’t understand,” Abby says, shaking her head.

The man sighs. “All the how’s and why’s -- they’re not really important,” he says. “From here, I can see everything. I can see how things start; how things end, and I know the things necessary to protect the timeline, to protect mankind. And when things are out of alignment, it is my duty to make the necessary arrangements.”

Abby half gapes, letting out an incredulous breath. “I’m going crazy,” she says. “I hit my head or something. I got envenomated by one of the predators. This can’t be real.

Chewing his lip, the man looks vexed. “Look,” he says. “Maybe it’d be easier if you heard it from someone else. Someone who understands what you’re going through a bit more.”

Abby is almost too afraid to ask.

“One of the other girls would be far easier to talk to,” he says. “Seeing as, they know how you feel.”

“The other girls?” Abby asks.

The man brightens. “Lovely pair,” he says. “You’ll really enjoy them, once you get to know them.”


The room seems to be a library, with a sprawling space and bookshelves filled on every wall. The windows are open to the daylight, spilling sun over the large tables and a particularly exquisite couch. There is a woman bent over one of the desks, apparently deep in study.

There is another pacing the far end of the room, absently putting a gun back together.

“Claudia?” Abby asks, both relieved and confused.

Both women look up, both with equally blank looks.

Abby ignores the first woman, crossing to the second. “Claudia, this is such a relief--”

The woman raises her eyebrows, putting her newly-assembled pistol into a holster on her hip. “I think you’re mistaken.”

Abby frowns. “But--”

“But you’re forgetting,” the man says from where he’s still standing near the door. “This is a castle out of time. I can bring people together from any time, any place.”

Abby turns back. “Which would explain why she doesn’t know me,” she says. “But this is Claudia Brown.”

“In your timeline, yes,” the man says, as if it’s perfectly obvious. “She’s not from your timeline, though.”

This revelation makes some sense, but it’s also kind of annoying. Honestly, Abby only joined the project for the creatures. Time travel gives her a headache.

“Jenny Lewis,” the woman supplies, interrupting Abby’s thoughts. “And you’re Abby Maitland.”

Abby looks at her, even more perplexed.

Jenny shrugs. “I know Abby Maitland in my timeline,” she says. “She also worked at the ARC.”

“That’s reassuring,” she mumbles.

“It gets easier, don’t worry,” Jenny assures her. “When I got here, I freaked out, too.”

From her place at the desk, the first woman looks up with a snort. “That’s an understatement,” she says. “Jenny tried to escape five times before she realized that it was pointless.”

“Every time you set foot off the property, you end up in a different timeline,” Jenny says. “The only way out is through him.”

They all look at the man again.

He manages to look somewhat sheepish. “I know it’s not polite to kidnap people, but I assure you, I’m only working under orders,” he says.

Abby decides to ignore him – the idea of him working on orders is perhaps relevant, but she’s really got more pressing considerations. Besides, she’d rather talk to the not-mad people in the room. “How long have you been here anyway?” she asks, directing her full attention to the other women. They don’t appear to be downtrodden hostages, at any rate.

Jenny thinks about that for a moment. At second glance, Jenny does carry herself differently than Claudia, and she’s more femininely put together, too. “You know, I don’t really know,” Jenny says. “Longer than you, but less than Sarah.”

From the desk, the woman smiles. “Sarah Page,” she supplies. “I worked at the ARC after both of you. Jenny is from an earlier point in the timeline, so she hasn’t met me yet, but I know both of you quite well.”

“Which is weird, let me tell you,” Jenny says. “Finding out the things I’m going to do is a bit unsettling.”

“I already told you,” the man lectures. “Different timelines--”

“And the fluidity of our choices, I know,” Jenny says, rolling her eyes. She winks at Abby. “But you have to admit, sometimes it’s fun to peek at the end of the book.”

“Given our presence, it seems like a tangential risk,” Sarah says. “Because I think our host is being truthful about the mechanics of this place. It exists outside of time, which not only means we have infinite access to the timestream, but the rules of quantum mechanics simply don’t apply to us here. Time is the only meaning for us, but it’s also effectually meaningless. That’s why none of us know how long we’ve been here. It feels like it could be years or just seconds.”

Abby makes a face.

Sarah smiles apologetically. “I’ve done a lot of reading since I got here,” she says.

“And I’ve been training,” Jenny says. “Books have never been my favorite thing. Fortunately, there’s an armory down the hall and a shooting range in the basement.”

“We also have a chef’s kitchen and a swimming pool,” the man supplies, sounding proud. “But that’s not the point.”

“Okay,” Abby says, looking cautiously at the other women. “Then what is the point?”

“I told you already,” the man says, sounding somewhat exasperated. “I brought you each here to save the world.”


He asks them to all sit on the couch, in a neat little line. “Look,” he says. “Time is a mess.”

“Says the man who removed three women from three different timelines,” Jenny mutters.

“I know, I know,” the man says. “But I didn’t create the chaos. I’m just trying to control it.”

“And who gives you the right anyway?” Abby asks.

“Isn’t it self-endowed?” he asks.

“The power is self-evident,” Sarah says. “If not him, then who?”

“You, actually,” the man says. “This isn’t about me.”

“Who are you anyway?” Abby says. She turns to the other women. “Do you even know his name?”

“I called him John for a while,” Jenny says. “He didn’t mind.”

“To be fair, I think identity is tied to a time and place,” Sarah says. “If he exists out of time, then who he was has probably been lost, too.”

“I still remember who I am,” Jenny says.

“You came from a stable timestream, though,” Sarah argues.

“Wait,” Abby says. “You’re saying he was born here?”

They all look at him.

“This really isn’t the time for a family history lesson,” the man says.

Abby shrugs. “I thought we had all the time in the world.”


For this, he sits down. “Look,” he says. “There’s no history to tell. I’m not being mysterious or elusive for a reason.”

“So, your name?” Abby presses.

“Never had one,” the man says.

“Did you have a family?” Abby asks.

“Never needed one,” the man says. “Your lives, they’re finite. You’re born, you grow, you die. That’s why humanity struggles with the idea of eternity. That’s why people have to believe in something bigger than themselves. Because it’s impossible for the human mind to fully grasp the concept of forever. No beginning; no end.”

“But someone had to create you,” Abby says. She looks to Jenny and Sarah for support. “I mean, it doesn’t make sense.”

“I sort of gave up on common sense a while ago,” Jenny says.

“His existence could be entirely pragmatic,” Sarah says. “I’ve been here long enough to know that this place responds to our needs. I never cared about firing a weapon, but when Jenny arrived, there was an armory. It seems like whatever book I’m looking for, it automatically appears.”

“That would explain why there’s a lizard over there in the cage,” Jenny says with a nod to Abby. “And I never noticed it until now. You’re a zoologist, right?”

Abby looks over to the corner, surprised. There is a lizard in a cage. It’s not Rex, but it sure as hell looks like him.

“Which would mean this man is nothing more than the manifestation of our needs,” Sarah says.

“Which means he can totally be John,” Jenny says. “Though I have to say, I would have preferred someone a bit taller. Maybe some stubble.”

The man -- he does seem like a John, Abby decides -- looks amused and disconcerted all at once. “My appearance; my name; the location of this castle -- those things really don’t matter,” he says. “There are always going to be more questions than answers. The trick is to ask the right questions.”

Sarah appears to actually consider this. Jenny seems to be somewhat bored at the prospect.

Contrary to the popular sentiment, Abby doesn’t have the time for this. “So what question should we be asking?”

“Why,” he says, leaning forward with an emphatic lilt. “Why are you here. This place -- me -- it’s all just a stopgap until we really fix the things that are wrong.”

“And what if we don’t?” Abby asks. “What then?”

The man shrugs. “Then everything will fall apart,” he says. “Not just this place, but each timeline. The entire expanse of time and space.”

Abby finds herself staring; she’s possibly somewhat slack-jawed. “So, what, then?” she asks, because this question matters. “We’re here to save the world?”

“Well, sort of,” he says. He chews his lip for a moment. “It’s more like you’re here to save every world, to save everything. Basically the entire universe.”

Sarah lets out an audible breath.

Jenny actually laughs.

“Oh,” Abby says, managing to close her mouth for a moment. “And here I thought it’d be something hard.”


It’s all rather a lot to take in. Abby shouldn’t be here; she doesn’t even know where here is. She half thinks she’s dreaming; maybe she’s fallen and hit her head. Maybe all of this, starting with Rex and that first anomaly in the Forest of Dean, has been nothing but one long figment of her imagination.

For all Abby can be certain of, she’s crazy.

Yet, somehow, this is the point in which it all makes some kind of sense.

After all, this all started with a lizard and a little boy, and it became a cause Abby couldn’t abandon. The stakes are too high, and whether she’s in her flat or some mysterious castle stuck out of time, Abby’s not the kind of girl to ignore a present and pressing concern.

Sarah squirms in her seat, and Jenny looks like she wants a drink.

John, as Abby is content of thinking of him for now, appears somewhat hopeful, but he’s waiting for one of them to make the next move. That’s something to consider. He’s the one with all the answers, but he’s not in charge. Not really.

Finally Abby narrows her eyes. “So if we’re here to save the universe, then why us?” she asks. “You say this is basically the ARC, and we all work there, so where is everyone else? Why not Cutter or Lester? Stephen or Connor? Even Ryan?”

Jenny arches one of her eyebrows, and Sarah looks away. John clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“What?” Abby asks.

“You don’t know the full story yet,” he admits. “Not for all of them.”

“What full story?” Abby asks, looking from John to the other women. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Ryan’s dead,” Jenny says, a little flat.

“And Stephen and Cutter, too,” Sarah tells her, somewhat apologetically.

Abby’s taken in a lot of new information, but this still hits her a little unexpectedly. Ryan, with all his training. Stephen, with his ability to shoot flying pteranodons out of the air. Cutter, who’s never wrong.

She stops, lets out a breath and shakes her head. “But it’s different timelines,” she says, as if that lessens the impact of what they’re telling her. “We could pull them in from anywhere.”

“That point is technically true,” John says. “But you’re assuming we want them.”

“Cutter’s always been a natural leader for this kind of thing,” Abby insists.

“And we could use someone who knows how to handle a gun,” Jenny says.

“And someone with a bit more theoretical knowledge might help,” Sarah suggests.

At this, John is somewhat exasperated. “You mean like you, an Egytologist with an voracious appetite for learning?” John asks. “Since you’ve been here, you’ve studied and annotated every book in that library, and your theories on time and space exceed my own. And you, Jenny--” He pins her in his gaze as he waggles a finger at her. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t taken pride in shooting tin cans off the roof.”

Jenny smiles, blushing. “I do like the way they disappear when they hit the barrier.”

“And you, Abby,” John says unflinchingly. “You’re the one who helped that little boy with his problem, even when no one else bothered. You’re the one who made sure Rex was okay, even going against orders. And you’re a natural at picking up new skills. You’re already more well rounded than anyone else on the team.”

“But I’m not an expert at any of that,” Abby protests.

“And you think anyone else is?” John asks. “This is new to everyone, even me, and I’ve been here for eternity.

Abby frowns.

“Besides,” John continues at breakneck speed now. “The men are idiots. Well-intentioned by the lot, and brilliant in their own ways, but they’re not quite the sum of their parts.”

“That hardly seems fair--” Sarah starts.

“Oh, please,” John says. “They fall over themselves when Helen Cutter is involved. A little cleavage and they’re all screwed up in the head. Stephen’s lying to people; Cutter’s throwing punches; Ryan’s collateral damage; and Connor is distracted by anything that blinks at him. I can’t trust them, not with this.

“And so you think we’re your solution?” Jenny asks.

John sits forward, thoroughly emphatic now. “I know it,” he says. “You’re brave, loyal and determined. You’re talented, quick learners and strong hearted. Besides, I find women are better suited for time travel. You take less absolutist stances on the issues. You have a higher acceptance for chaos than the average man.”

“Not Helen Cutter,” Abby murmurs.

“Well, that’s why Helen Cutter’s not here,” John says. “Though she is a large reason why you’re all here.”

Abby doesn’t know a lot about Helen Cutter except that she exists and that that’s probably not a good thing. It’s not so much anything specific that she’s done, it’s just the way her presence changes everything around her that unnerves Abby. The way she makes everything off-balance. The way Cutter closes off; the way Stephen becomes a whole different person.

There’s something unsettling about her.

“Oh?” Jenny asks, and she sounds like she’s much more familiar with the woman -- and not in a good way.

John nods readily. “Most of us make choices that affect time in a linear fashion,” he said. “That’s the nature of life; the very fabric of reality. But Helen moves in and out of time like it’s hers to own. She’s not just affecting her own timeline, but everyone’s timeline. It’s like pulling strings out of a woven blanket. If you pull enough, the whole thing falls apart.”

“Her presence throughout multiple timelines could alter the precarious balance of the universe,” Sarah theorizes. “So you want us to travel back to fix things.”

“But wait a minute,” Abby interjects. “If altering the timelines destabilizes them or whatever, then why would you send us to do the exact same thing?”

Jenny seems somewhat impressed. “She has a point.”

“Yes, a point,” John says. “Though only in a limited sense.”

Abby narrows her eyes.

John continues. “Helen keeps making changes. She goes back as many times as she needs to; she goes forward as many times as it takes. Like, if you walk over the same piece of carpet again and again, eventually it wears all the way through. But you three, I just want to send the three of you back one final time.”

“For all we know, that’s exactly what Helen thought in the beginning,” Abby argues.

“That could be true,” he says. “But that’s why there’s three of you. That’s why there’s this place. For perspective -- what is it called? -- checks and balances.”

Abby shakes her head. “It still sounds an awful lot the same to me.”

“And it is,” John relents. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“They why?” Jenny asks. “Why should we trust you?”

“Because I want to save lives,” John says.

“And who gives us the right?” Sarah asks. “To say who lives and dies?”

“Please,” John says, almost a little coy this time. “I haven’t even told you who I plan to save.”

Abby exchanges an uncertain look with Jenny and Sarah as John pulls a file from the inside of his suit jacket. He rummages inside and produces three photos before laying them meticulously on the table in front of him.

Abby tries not to flinch, but it’s hard.

Much harder than it should be.

Because the three photos are Nick Cutter, Stephen Hart and Connor Temple.


In all honesty, Abby just needs a second.

She’s coped with a lot in all this. She’s coped with everything, right from the very start. And it’s been a lot, thank you very much. She started on this path because she loved lizards, and she’d decided to see it through no matter what.

There had been no way of knowing just what that meant.

So she’s dealt with the dinosaurs and prehistoric creatures. She’s battled giant centipedes and seen new friends almost die. She’s been sworn to secrecy and she’s willingly risked her life, and this whole thing about rifts in time is all well and good because Abby’s willing to believe things. She’s willing to put faith in things she believes in.

But she’s essentially been kidnapped and plied with metaphors in a castle with people she’s never met yet that seem to know her, with instructions to save three men and the world.

So yeah, Abby just needs a second.

At least, that’s what she says when she gets up and promptly leaves the room. John calls after her, but makes no attempt to stop her. Surprisingly, it’s Sarah who’s behind her, with Jenny a little ways behind Sarah, as if following out of obligation more than anything else.

“Abby, please,” Sarah calls. “You can’t leave--”

Abby fumbles at a door, looking for an exit. “I just need a moment,” she says again, as if somehow it makes more sense this time.

“But Abby--”

Abby ignores her, finding a stairwell and taking it down.

“Abby, we understand--”

“Do you?” Abby asks with a swift glance back. “Because I think you’re all mad.

“Not a bad thought, really,” Jenny comments from afar.

Abby rolls her eyes and picks up her pace as the stairs lead out into a larger hallway.

Sarah is still closing in, no more than a few steps behind. “But we told you, you can’t leave--”

“Oh yeah?” Abby asks, narrowing in on the door and all but charging for it. “Watch me.”

“It’s not a question of volition,” Sarah explains breathlessly.

The sunlight outside is surprisingly bright, and Abby is momentarily disoriented.

“It’s a question of function,” Sarah continues.

Function, Abby thinks. Sounds ironic to her. Because if she stays here another moment, she won’t function at all.

“Abby, listen to me--”

“I just need a second,” Abby says, heading down the steps. “Just a moment.”

She’s poised to run as she hits the bottom step -- ready to leave -- when the light explodes and she’s thrust forward. For a second, there’s nothing but light.

Then, when her vision clears, there’s nothing but dinosaurs.



Posted by: knitekat (knitekat)
Posted at: June 22nd, 2015 09:45 pm (UTC)

Ooh, timey-wimey confusion. And where has Abby ended up? Who exactly is John? More, soon?

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 07:10 pm (UTC)
connor smile

I don't know why I keep writing timey-wimey fics, since I'm not overly adept at ironing out all the details, but Primeval fics certainly do lend themselves to such things :)


Posted by: knitekat (knitekat)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 08:02 pm (UTC)

They're fun? If difficult to keep track of all the timey-wimey-ness ;)

Posted by: goldarrow (goldarrow)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 02:59 am (UTC)

Wow, this is an amazing setup!

I love the mystery, the timey-wimey-ness of it, the women and their different takes on the situation.
Brilliant. Just brilliant.

LOL for the descriptions of Helen and the mens' reactions to her.

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 07:10 pm (UTC)
stephen broken

I just hope the rest of the fic makes sense! I always get in a bit over my head with stuff like this, but the muse will do what the muse will do.


Posted by: fredbassett (fredbassett)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 03:14 pm (UTC)

That's a very intriguing set up! I like the idea that only the women are sensible enough to put things right.

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 07:11 pm (UTC)
stephen cutter

I didn't watch a lot of the later seasons, but the boys really were a mess in the first few! I enjoyed getting a bit outside my normal writing zone by writing a female-centric piece.


Posted by: nietie (nietie)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 04:15 pm (UTC)

The men are idiots LOL

I'm all for girl power!
But poor, confused Abby. She'll figure it out, though, I'm sure. And together the women will succeed.

And mysterious "John". Ooo, he could be a son of one of them.....

Posted by: do i dare or do i dare? (faye_dartmouth)
Posted at: June 23rd, 2015 07:12 pm (UTC)
stephen blue wonder

I so often focus on Stephen (and Cutter!) that this one was a different experience, and a rather enjoyable one at that. I just hope the fic makes sense!

Thanks :)

Posted by: aunteeneenah (aunteeneenah)
Posted at: June 24th, 2015 02:45 am (UTC)

Wow! I will admit I am totally confused and had to read this a couple of times but I think it's making more sense to me now. This is wonderful and I love these three ladies and their strengths. You've done very well with this.

Posted by: lsellersfic (lsellersfic)
Posted at: June 27th, 2015 06:41 pm (UTC)

I love this fic, I'm so sorry I've not got around to catching up before now (even though, as you know, I've already read it). I love the sense of Abby's dislocation in this part!

Posted by: fififolle (fififolle)
Posted at: June 28th, 2015 08:57 am (UTC)
Primeval - Abby car Naughty Girl

Eek!! Poor Abby, it does all seem rather a lot to take in! Wonderful tension and, well, madness!! Looking forward to seeing what happens.

Posted by: kristen_mara (kristen_mara)
Posted at: July 13th, 2015 08:52 am (UTC)

Well, you certainly come up with some unusual scenarios ;)

**Girl and lizard live happily ever after.**

Awwww! Very intriguing set up and I agree that these three women would be much better at saving the day than those men...

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