21/04/08

Title: Time and Distance

Chapter: Nine – Fighting the Future

Author: Squeezynz

Setting: two years post S2Ep7

Pairing: Stabby all the way.

“I'm freezing my bollocks off Cutter.”

“Well, they'll have to stay frozen for now. It said three twenty so we've got,” Nick checked his watch, “five minutes to go before the anomaly opens. Are you ready?”

“Been ready for the last hour. Fuck it's cold.”

The coordinates detailed on the cd had led them to the Forest of Bowland, a wild, isolated area of heather covered moorland that was sparsely populated in the upland areas. The site they were looking for was just outside the tiny village of Slaidburn, currently experiencing a boom in tourist numbers, if you could equate having the local Inn posting a no-vacancy sign any indication. Situated as it was, sheltered by the Bowland Fells, the village was both isolated and accessible, and the most unlikely spot to potentially sound the death knell for the rest of the world.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Stephen asked, knowing fully well he'd checked the site out for himself.

Nick ignored him, casting a glance down at the anomaly detector in his hand. The screen remained frustratingly blank, no sign of the strong magnetic field usually associated with the phenomenon.

“Get up and move about, we can't afford to be caught napping. You saw the science the same as I did. If Helen is right, and there's no reason to suppose otherwise, we only get one chance to do this.”

“What if she's played us for fools, and the bad guys have the right information? Have you thought of that?”

“Of nothing else...now shut up...” Nick glanced down at the detector, the device now starting to register something. “Stephen...it's here!”

They both rose to their feet as a point of light ten feet from where they stood started to coalesce into the familiar alien pattern of an anomaly. Nick dropped the detector and, like Stephen, lifted the gun to his shoulder and took aim at the splintered light shards slowly expanding, blinding in their intensity after the gloom of overcast afternoon.

“Shit. They'll be able to see this all the over Yorkshire.” Stephen hissed, shifting his grip and sighting along the barrel.

“No they won't...steady now.”

They watched the anomaly, not blinking, not moving. Nick squinting and wishing he'd thought to bring sunglasses to cut down the glare. The anomaly flickered and he drew in a breath, his heart thumping frenetically in his chest. Guns had never been his thing, always happy to leave the shooting up to the experts like Stephen, or the military guys. Now he willed his hand to stop shaking as a shadow appeared to pass over the flickering lights, a figure stepping through, his outline unclear but enough for Stephen to squeeze his trigger, the report sounding like a cannon firing so close to his ear. The man coming through the anomaly seemed to stagger, Stephen reloading and taking another shot, hitting the man so that he fell, his arms flailing, windmilling as he collapsed, half in and half out of the anomaly.

“Christ!” Stephen started forward, Nick at his side not having fired a shot. They approached the body, noting that it appeared to be dressed in ordinary clothes – trousers, jacket, boots, his hair a light colour and messy, his skin pale.

“Is he dead?” Nick asked, taking the gun from Stephen and waiting while the younger man donned a pair of surgical latex gloves and a mask before attempting to turn the man over, the man they'd just murdered.

Stephen dragged the body a little way beyond the anomaly before grasping the shoulders and rolling him. Stephen stared down into the face and fell back, his own expression ghastly in the light of the anomaly.

“Oh fuck...” Stephen suddenly scrambled to his feet, shoving the mask off his face and made it a few feet before he threw up, his body heaving repeatedly as he emptied his stomach.

Nick circled the body and approached Stephen, placing the guns on the ground.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just never killed a man before. Animals, reptiles, predators...but not a human.”

Nick left him alone and walked back to the body. It lay as Stephen had left it, bit of dirt and debris stuck to the pale cheeks, the blue eyes staring sightlessly up at the star studded sky. He looked normal, not diseased or plague ridden, but peaceful.

As Nick drew closer he frowned. As he stood over the body he felt his own gorge rise. Stephen was a good shot, so good he'd managed to hit the man right in the head. Despite that, his features were plain to see despite the blood.

Nick Cutter stood staring down at his own face, his own body, the man Stephen had just shot was him. Reaction hit him like someone punching him repeatedly in the chest.

“Bloody hell.”

“I wonder where she sent the other guys?” Stephen asked, passing back the thermos cup for a refill.

They were sitting some distance from the anomaly, watching it pulse as it prepared to close. It had been weakening for some time, the detector recording the decrease in strength each time Nick checked. It would only be minutes before it closed for good.

They were both in a state of shock, but not so lost to all sense they hadn't completed all the instructions. The body had been zipped into a body bag, then into a second and currently occupied most of the boot of the car they'd hired for the trip to the Bowland Forest. The masks and gloves had been burnt, the small fired buried. Given some of the tallest vegetation was heather and bog, it was a bit of a misnomer to call it a forest, per se, but they weren't about to quibble. Now they just had to witness the anomaly closing and they could leave. They had a date with a cremator. The body would have to be disposed of, and short of a pyre, which didn't guarantee complete destruction of the corpse, they had to use facilities designed to do just that.

They also had to hope they didn't get stopped by the police at any stage. Explaining why they had a body in the boot that looked just like Nick Cutter would take some fancy finagling.

This went way beyond the official secrets act.

“Wherever they are, I hope they are royally pissed off,” Nick replied, sipping his own coffee and trying to work out how he felt about finding out the supposed plague carrier was himself. “Aren't I supposed to disappear in a puff of smoke if I turn up in my own time while I'm still here? Isn't it a paradox or something?”

“Depends on your theory about time...or which one you subscribe too.”

“I think I must subscribe to all of them by now. Why was it me?”

“God, I don't know Nick. Why did Helen send me back here?”

They exchanged a look, neither wanting to really discuss the ramifications of the amount of messing with time and space Helen Cutter seemed to do at will and without conscience.

“How are we going to explain turning up with a body to be cremated, without any paperwork?” Stephen asked.

“All arranged. I have discovered I have a rare talent for forgery.”

Stephen stared at Nick, both eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “What!?”

“I forged Lester's signature. As far as anyone knows, we are dropping off a creature that died because it wasn't used to our low level of oxygen in the atmosphere. A Cotylosaur, species Seymouria that wandered through an anomaly and scared the living crap out of some poor farmer.”

“That's our cover story?”

“The best I could come up with.”

“Then let's hope it holds.”

They watched the anomaly fade to a pinpoint then disappear. Without another word the two men gathered they few belongings and trekked back to the car for the second time that day. They had a long drive to reach Birmingham and their appointment with the cremation staff when they opened at eight in the morning.

Stephen pulled his key out of the door and winced when the hinges creaked loudly. He paused and listened, then let out his breath, closing the door fully and locking it behind him.

He was exhausted, from the trip back and the fraught day starting with the drive down from Yorkshire to Birmingham, to make the deadline for the disposal of the body. That side of things had gone remarkably smoothly, the paperwork passing the cursory inspection of the crematory manager, the man not batting an eyelid when Cutter rambled on about the species and its prehistoric origins, the body bag not inspected beyond the most fleeting, being loaded without due ceremony into a large wooden box tray to facilitate the process, before entering the cremator, the whole to be reduced to ashes in a matter of an hour or two.

Stephen had to admire Nick's sheer bravado during the entire nail biting experience, Stephen still suffering from reaction to shooting his first real person. That the person turned out to have Nick's face had been the final straw, the whole situation taking on a bizarre quality that he was still having difficulty dealing with. The fact that he'd shot Nick was distressing enough, trying to sort out the ramifications and reasoning behind it, was something beyond understanding.

Nick had invited him to stay another night, but he'd wanted, needed to get home to Abby, just to reassure himself that life had carried on despite his and Nick's clandestine date with the future.

He had his own theory of who or more precisely where the Nick Cutter they just killed had come from. In his theory, it was the Nick from Helen's time, the one she'd gone back for. It was quite possible that she had convinced that Nick to end his life before the plague took it from him, one last trip into the past before he walked through the designated anomaly and he, Stephen, shot him. All arranged by his loving wife. God, he felt nauseas again.

The flat was dark, as he'd expect give the hour, but a light was still on in the hallway leading to the bedroom. He threw his keys on the side table and drew off his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair before walking towards the bedroom door. The murmur of voices made him check, his hand reaching out to the wall to steady himself. He had told Abby he would be home the following day, but here he was, a good twelve hours earlier than expected and she had someone in the bedroom with her.

He drew closer to the door and paused, his pulse drumming loudly in his ear. He could make out Abby's voice through the panel, and another answering her – male.

His fingers dug into the door frame, his nails leaving crescents in the soft wood.

Drawing in a breath to steady himself and rein in some of the black emotion rising up to choke him, Stephen turned the handle and pushed the door wide.

Abby glanced at the clock, then checked herself. She was behaving like some idiotic worry wort. Stephen would be back the next day, and she was sure he'd explain it all to her then. She really didn't have anything to worry about, other than clearing up her paperwork before she left for her check up.

“Hey!” Abby jerked her head up to see Connor standing, hands in pockets, in the doorway to her office.

“Hey yourself.” She rose to her feet, unsure whether to hold out her hand or give him a hug. Connor seemed to be in the same dilemma, choosing to walk further in, then look around.

“You're own office...a step up.” Connor observed, inspecting a shelf burdened with fossil fragments and journals.

“I share it with Stephen, so not exactly all my own. How have you been Connor?”

His eyes met hers then slid away. “Fine...yourself?”

“I'm fine. I thought I wouldn't see you until next month, when we came down for another of Lester's meetings?”

“Yeah...well...I had to come up to this neck of the woods...so I thought I'd pop in.” He gave her a quick half smile, then went back to his contemplation of the fossils.

“Stephen is away at the moment...and I have an appointment in half an hour.” She bit her lip, not sure whether she should ask. “Would you like to tag along?”

To her surprise, that seemed to brighten him up. He didn't ask her who the appointment was with. “Sure...then we could go for a drink.”

“How about a coffee?” Abby hedged, not sure how she was going to break it to Connor about her changed circumstances. “Just give me a moment. Why don't you go look around, I'll meet you in the main loading dock, okay?”

“Sure.” He hesitated, as if unsure whether to just walk out or do something more personal. In the end he raised his hand half way then ducked out the door. Abby sighed and sat down. She had known it was going to be difficult, but this was almost impossible.

Connor looked suitably surprised when they drew up to the Medical Center. He looked sideways at Abby. “Are you sick?”

“Not sick. I just have to have a check up. You can wait here, if you like, or come in.”

“I'll come in.”

Abby didn't satisfy his obvious curiosity, announcing herself to the receptionist before seating her self in the waiting room. Connor sat beside her, but looked uncomfortable.

“Why do you need a check up?” he asked her in a whisper. Abby mentally girded her loins and drew in a breath to steady herself.

“I'm pregnant.”

If she'd hit him with a large mallet she couldn't have produced a more surprised look on his face.

“What?”

Abby didn't answer him, her eyes firmly fixed forward. Connor started to fidget in earnest.

“How the fuck can you be pregnant?”

“The usual way.”

“But I thought we'd agreed...”

“When I was with you, yes I did...we did...” Abby flushed hotly as his scrutiny bordered on manic. “Stop staring at me Connor.”

“Didn't wait around much. Ink's hardly dry on the paper.”

“And I'm not getting any younger. This is all moot Connor. Can't we at least be friends?”

She could see that he was fighting hard to keep his emotions under control, his eyes shutting for a long moment, his mouth compressed into a thin line. He visibly relaxed his posture, so that when he opened his eyes there was nothing there but a bland acceptance.

“Congratulations. When is it due?” He smiled, the effect not reaching his eyes.

Abby only heard the words, not seeing the expression because she was smoothing her hands down her jeans and watching them, not his face.

“Thank you. Sometime in November. That's why I'm here today, to have an initial scan to determine a date.” She glanced up at him, seeing what she wanted to see.

“Stephen is a lucky man.” Connor managed to get past his stiff lips.

At that moment the nurse called her name. Abby got up then turned to face Connor. “I'll be about half an hour. You okay to wait?”

“Sure. I'll be here when you're done.”

She smiled at him then turned to leave. Connor sat there, maintaining his relaxed posture until the door shut behind her, then all semblance of control vanished and he leapt to his feet to pace over to the glass wall looking out over the car park. He repeatedly ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing in spikes, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace. Unable to stay still, he flung out of the reception area and through the door to pace outside.

He'd arrived at the new ARC with some half cocked idea he could talk her back into returning with him, returning to their life. He still had feelings for her, and she obviously still had feelings for him, so it made sense she'd have tired of that interloper with Stephen's face and be ready to start again, with him, Connor.

But now, her announcement put a new perspective on everything. She was pregnant.

Out of sight of the front reception area, Connor paced among the parked cars, his fist hitting against their metal panels as he passed, the punches sometimes hard enough to leave dents. Only when one of his punches set off the car alarm did he stop it, stuffing his bruised knuckles into the pockets of his jeans and putting as much distance between him and the wailing car as possible.

He met Abby coming out of the Medical Center, his posture as relaxed an nonchalant as he could make it. Abby smiled at him and waved.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” She rummaged for her keys before unlocking the drivers door.

“No problem. Just been taking in the air. Everything alright?” He slid into the passenger side.

“Yeah. Every thing's fine.” She turned on the ignition. “Still up for that coffee?”

“Yeah. You know the area better than I do, you pick.”

It was dark by the time they returned to the flat, Abby offering Connor a nightcap before he left to take a taxi to his hotel. Connor agreed readily, eager to see how his ex-wife was living. He couldn't help giving in to the whistle of appreciation when he saw her new accommodation.

“Geez Abby. Did you win the pools?” He stood just inside the front door and looked around. “I half expected you to be in a some bedsit by the canals.”

“I was, in a bedsit anyway, when I first moved to Rotherham. But since we had to move closer, and this place had just come on the market...”

“You own this place?” Connor stared around again, calculating the cost.

“Well...Stephen does.”

“How the hell...” Connor shook his head. “He's looking after you real well then?”

“Very well. Do you want another coffee or something stronger. We have beer, and I think there might be some wine...?”

“I'll have a beer.”

Abby padded off to the kitchen, leaving Connor to peer into the various tanks, reacquainting himself with her reptile collection, Rex the Second cocking his head when Connor spoke to him. Abby returned and held out a stubby.

“Not going to have one with me?” Connor asked. Abby shook her head. He wandered over to one of the comfortable looking couches and flopped down on to it, sprawling his legs out and taking up most of the space. “This is certainly a step up Abby...a definite step up.”

Abby seated herself opposite him, her legs curled up underneath her. “So what are your plans, Connor?”

“Plans?”

“You know...I mean...are you getting out, meeting people...that sort of stuff.”

“I'm not fucking anyone, if that's what you're asking. Not even Alison.”

“Alison? Who's Alison?”

“Rainbow Aurora. Gave that all up after you left.” He took a slug of his beer. “Left off doing a lot of things when you left.”

“I didn't ask you to. But for the record, why did you?”

“She was costing a bloody fortune for one thing. And once you went, I found it had lost it's appeal.”

Abby stared at him. “Lost its appeal? You mean it was only exciting because it was illicit while you were married to me? You beggar belief Connor, you really do.”

“You never understood!” Connor snapped.

“I'm not sure that anyone could!” Abby retorted, feeling so uncomfortable, she had to get up and do something, anything to take her mind of the implications of what he'd said.

She found herself in the kitchen, going through the motions of making a cup of tea, her mind in turmoil. Connor followed her in and stood leaning against the door jamb.

“I miss you Abbs...really miss you.”

Abby bit her lip to stop the hurtful words she wanted to shout at him from spilling out. “I miss you too Connor...I miss the friend I used to have.”

Connor put the beer on the table and sidled up to her, surprising her by putting his arms about her.

“Connor let go. You can't do this now.”

“Why not? You just said you missed me...I'm your husband...”

“Ex husband...now get off.” Abby threw off his embrace and moved beyond his reach. “Maybe you should go now.”

Connor looked sulky, walking back to where he left his beer and tipping the bottle to down the last mouthful. Slamming it back on the table top, he watched it teeter for a second before it righted itself. “Not yet Abby...you haven't given me a tour of the place...what's in here?” he pulled open the nearest door handle to reveal the small laundry leading off the kitchen.

“Connor...no really, I think...”

“Come on Abbs...you've got a great place, no expense spared...here's your chance to show it off, rub my nose in it...show me all the things you have now, that we never had when we were together. Show me how much of a better life this impostor is making for you. Is there a nursery?” And he was off, leaving Abby standing in the kitchen, her fingers digging into the bench surround, wishing that Stephen were here to lend her moral support.

Gritting her teeth, she switched off the kettle and followed Connor out of the kitchen. Maybe if she did as he asked, he'd get fed up and leave. It wouldn't be soon enough.

The last place they inspected was the master bedroom, Abby avoiding it, but Connor making a beeline for the only door not opened despite her protests.

“What's behind here? Are yes...the hub of the house, the master bedroom...except the master isn't here, is he Abby? Just you and me and the embryo swimming about in there,” he jabbed a finger at Abby's middle, but she batted it away.

“Not funny Connor. It's time for you to leave. I don't want you in here, and I know Stephen wouldn't want you here.”

“I bet he wouldn't...sanctimonious prat. Doesn't he know he's dead already? Should know when to lay down and stay dead, not rise up and steal a man's wife!”

“God Connor...he didn't steal me...our marriage was already shot to pieces long before he came on the scene.”

She tried to grab his arm and pull him out of the room, but he twisted and she found herself propelled backward to sit heavily on the bed, Connor kicking the bedroom door shut at the same time.

“But he did come back, didn't he...and you always did have a soft spot for good ol' Stephen. So tall and handsome, so confident and heroic. Wasn't much of a hero when it came out he slept with his best friends wife, was it? Even you, little miss prig, turned your nose up at him then.”

“Stop this...it wasn't like that.”

“Wouldn't have a bar of the poor bastard after that. Shut him out good and proper, gave him the patented cold shoulder and froze him out. Never stood a chance...was probably glad to die knowing he'd fucked up his relationship with everyone so completely. Probably figured there was no point to living any longer now that you and Cutter and everyone thought him a traitor.”

“Shut up...it's not true.”

Ignoring her, Connor continued. “And then, what do you know? He comes back from the dead, all hale and hearty and heroic as ever, and everything is forgiven and forgotten and he's back in the fold. So back he's even got you panting after him again, so eager and ready to let him into your knickers...so don't look to sanctimonious about me and Alison...he probably came back just because you wished him back every second you were married to me!”

“No...Connor...don't say that..”

“And now you're going to have his baby...another bloody Hart to clutter up the world and make the rest of us look like fools.”

“I'm not listening any more Connor, this is all rubbish. I want you to go...now!” Abby got up and tried to reach the door handle, but he was there before her, wrenching her hand away and sending her spinning back towards the bed.

“Ah, ah aaaah!” he wagged his finger at her, “you don't want to do that. You said yourself, he's not back until tomorrow...so why don't you made room for me. Give us one for old times sake..eh Abby?” He advanced on her, his back to the door, blocking her view, neither of them seeing Stephen's entrance. “I won't tell him, and I know you won't. Just one more fuck for your ex husband.”

“Ex is bloody right!” Stephen lunged at Connor, spun him around and landed a blow on the younger man's jaw that sent him reeling to hit the wall.

Connor recovered quickly, wiping the trickle of blood away from the corner of his mouth before looking up at Stephen. “Bastard!”

Pushing himself away from the wall, Connor threw himself at Stephen, the two grappling for a moment before Stephen, the taller of the two, managed to land a punch that winded his opponent and sent him to the floor to writhe helplessly.

In the lull, Stephen looked over at Abby who had sensible retreated to the far side of the bed and safety.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” Abby's eyes were dark with shock, her face pale. “Can you get him out of here?”

“Call a taxi, I'll get him out the front door.”

Using the phone by the bed, she did just that, while Stephen hauled Connor to his feet and started to manhandle him out of the bedroom. Connor struggled, but was helpless against Stephen's vice like grip. Abby scooted past them both after making the call, holding the front door open for Stephen to bundle Connor through.

“Go wait inside, I'll stay with him until the taxi arrives.”

Abby stared at Stephen then nodded, turning her back on her former husband without a second glance. Stephen held Connor in front of him with the young man's arm twisted behind his back to prevent any further fighting.

“You're bloody lucky I don't break your fucking arm Temple,” he hissed, his grip unrelenting when Connor made an attempt to free himself. “If you so much as come within a mile of Abby when I'm not around, I'll rip your fucking head off. I'm not the old Stephen, I'm the new Stephen and I'm not afraid to mark that pretty face of yours if you threaten me or my family ever again. Are we clear?”

The taxi was heading up the road towards them. Stephen released his grip on Connor, who sucked in a sharp breath and massaged his sore arm as he walked towards the road side. Stephen remained on the door step and watched the younger man. Connor glanced only once over his shoulder at Stephen, his expression shuttered and mutinous, before he climbed into the taxi and was gone.

Taking a moment, Stephen watched the red tail lights and tried to relax his tense shoulders. Subduing Connor had been easy, not pummeling the stupid wanker into a bloody pulp had been the hard bit. Turning on his heel, he re-entered the house, finding Abby waiting for him just inside. Without saying a word they came together, arms wrapped around each other, letting jangle nerves and tense muscles find their release in reassurance and security.

Stephen freed up an arm and flipped the locks on the door, before turning out the lights, leaving only the bedroom light to guide them. Together they made their way to the room, Stephen kicking the door shut behind him before laying down, still fully clothed on the covers with Abby scooting over to wrap herself around him again.

“You alright?” he asked her again, this time without the harsh anger in his voice. He knew she was, but he wanted to, needed to hear her say so.

“Really...I'm fine. He didn't touch me.”

He tightened his grip on her and kissed her hair. “Good. I came at the right time then.”

“You have no idea how glad I was to see you.” Her muffled voice sounded a bit tearful. “He wouldn't have hurt me...but it was getting ugly.”

“Hey, it wasn't your fault. He's just a sore loser...”

“I'm not some prize pig at a fair to be fought over!” Abby's indignant squawk made him sigh.

“No, not even remotely. But it did give me a chance to vanquish the baddy and rescue fair maiden, so I'm not complaining.”

“My hero. Although Connor is hardly in your league...you're taller, fitter and you can handle a gun.”

“Which is why he got to leave with all his limbs still attached.”

“Poor Connor...”

“Oh no...don't you dare. He had his chance...and lost you. I won't be making the same mistake.” Loosening his hold, he rolled until she was on her back, his body poised over her. “He's only poor in as much as he doesn't have you in his life to love,” he kissed her, “ to hold,” he kissed her again, “to make wild, passionate love to,” he kissed her again and again. “I'm the richest man in the world because I have you. But even rich men have their limits, so no more 'poor Connor'.”

“Tyrant.” Abby said affectionately.

“Tease,” Stephen replied, his hands pushing up her hoody to stroke the warm skin beneath.

“I had my check up today.”

He paused in his stroking, his expression serious. “Everything okay?”

“No problems at all.”

“Wish I could have been there...did they give you a date?”

“Put a ring around the week starting the third of November...give or take a day or so.”

He grinned, ducking his head to kiss her torso just above the waistband of her jeans. Abby giggled. After the disastrous end to the evening, this was just what she needed. Stephen lifted his head and grinned back at her.

“You're wearing far too many clothes.” He started to unbutton her jeans.

“And you're impatient...just because it's been more than twenty four hours...” she wiggled her hips to allow him to draw off the tight trousers, kicking them off her feet to fall somewhere on the floor.

“Jesus, that long? I think I'll expire if I have to wait a second longer.” He pulled his own shirt over his head and threw it away, Abby's fingers flattening against his chest and tweaking a impudent nipple.

“Are you going to tell me what you and Nick have been up to?”

“Nope.” He nuzzled her breast through her bra, biting on the tip and making her squeal.

“Ow...easy on the teeth Dracula!”

He returned his mouth to her breast and this time drew the injured tip fully into his mouth and suckled. Abby crooned and stroked her fingers through his hair, anchoring him in place.

She tried again. “Not even a hint of what you two have been doing?”

“Only that we've been saving the world and return as unsung heroes, to pillage and plunder our reward.”

“What does pillage mean exactly?”

His hand found it's way into her knickers and between her legs. “Too much talking and not enough moaning...concentrate woman.”

Abby obliged by arching against his hand and sighing against his mouth. Her arms wrapped themselves about his neck while her lower body wriggled and tried to get him to press against her sweet spot.

“Stephen?” Abby growled, gasping when he obliged and circled her clit with a slick finger, making her buck against his hand.

He watched her reactions, his own body begging to bury itself in her sweet heat. He loved watching her fair skin flush pink, her body trembling against him as she strained to reach her peak. Abruptly he pulled his hand out of her underwear, almost ripping off his own remaining clothes in his eagerness to claim her as his own.

Not bothering to remove her knickers, he pushed the damp, silky fabric to one side and buried himself between her legs, Abby wrapping her legs around him, her hands clutching at the headboard to give herself leverage to push back as he pounded inside her.

Several positions later he finally allowed himself the release he was craving, his shout as he came loud enough that Abby feared the neighbours would be hammering on the walls for a bit of peace before much longer. Sweaty, exhausted and floating on a cloud of contentment, they lay back to front, legs entangled, among the wreckage of the bed covers.

When his heart finally stopped racing, Stephen nuzzled Abby's shoulder, pressing kisses to her salty skin until she responded by pushing her delightful bottom into his groin to distract him.

“Abby?”

“Mmmm??”

“Marry me.”

“ Kay...”

“Abby?”

“Hmmm?”

“Did you hear me, I said – 'marry me'.”

“I know...I said 'yes'. Can I go back to sleep now?” She hadn't even opened her eyes.

Stephen chuckled against her back and admitted defeat. “Yeah..go back to sleep. I'll ask you again in the morning.”

“S'okay...love you...”

“Love you too.” He replied, settling himself against her before pulling up the covers, Abby already asleep in his arms.

He lay for several minutes, listening to her breath, his hand spread out protectively across her belly, imagining the life growing there.

Life had carried on, despite him and Nick saving the world, an act that would never be acknowledged or recognized by anyone beyond the two of them. It would be the one secret he'd keep from her, and take to his grave. They'd probably save the world several times over between the pair of them, Nick as well, and risk their lives for people that don't even know they exist. Even their child wouldn't know how much its future depended on what its parents do in secret.

But they'd be together, and maybe one day they'd get to join Greenpeace or some other conservation project and leave anomalies and dinosaurs where they belonged – in the past.

For now, he had a future, a family on the way and someone to take care of and love. Who could ask for anything more.

Time and Distance – the end.