Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fanfiction, written solely for love of the show.
Author's Notes: Prehistoric sex pollen for the win \o/ The really scary thing is that this is not the one I was talking about with moonlettuce several months ago and which is still on the back burner, along with everything else.
Written for MMoM. Thanks to aithine for the rapid beta.
Connor laughs into her mouth and she breathes him in, giddy with it. Everything is bright and shiny and wonderful, especially Connor, who tastes like candyfloss and chocolate and smells like freshly baked bread.
Everywhere he touches her he sets off little starbursts all through her skin. If she squints, she might be able to see them, sparks of red and gold and green. She tries but then Connor kisses her again and she loses track of that thought, watching it drift away behind him.
His hair is soft when she strokes it, wrapping around her fingers. She's not afraid though. She could never be afraid of Connor and when she shares that thought with him, he purrs, his teeth sharp against her lips. Even that doesn't hurt.
She thinks she likes it when he purrs. She can feel the sound all the way through her, shuddering into the ground and making the earth shake beneath her feet. It's only a little earthquake though. The mug Connor left on the coffee table earlier doesn't even fall over, although it does dance. She watches it for a moment as Connor's fingers trail over her skin, sparks rising in their wake and joining the cup in dancing around them.
Oh. He touches somewhere that makes lightning flash, bright and fierce and she kisses him again, tongue tracing over his sharp incisors. She likes that - a lot - and it's something new to explore, like the fact that his skin is as soft as his hair but the rest of him, underneath, is hot and hard. She considers this for a while as she moves her fingers, feeling his soft skin move with her, back and forth, the texture changing as her fingers stroke over the end. It's hot and wet there and he buries his face in her neck as he pulses over her hand.
When she brings her fingers to her lips, she tastes rainbows. She puts her fingers to his lips, shares that happy, shiny taste with him, and then Connor touches her again and she soars.
There's a screaming in her ear, loud and sudden, and she wakes, disorientated, the dreams - weird and half-formed - clinging to her. For a second, she thinks that the sound is a raptor or some ancient prehistoric terror bird and her heart is pounding in her chest, her mouth drying out, before she realises that it's just her phone.
Her head is pounding too, matching the rhythm of her heart, beat for beat and pain for pain, and she really shouldn't have had so much to drink last night. She hasn't had a hangover this bad since the morning after her eighteenth birthday party, and she swore off drinking to excess after that. Apparently she never learns.
She scrambles for the phone, knocking it off the bedside table onto the floor before she finally manages to grab it. The covers are still tangled around her, and she's uncoordinated as she almost belly flops down to get it, feeling - and probably looking - like a stranded fish. Elegant. She catches hold of it, dragging it up by the charm that's attached to it, the one Connor gave her - a small lizard of all things. She and flips the phone open, peering blearily at the display as she once again tries - and fails - to push the covers off her and sit up. The display is too bright and she squints at it. As far as she can make out it says 'Stephen', and she's already got the phone up to her ear, has croaked out a hoarse, "Hello," and is trying to make sense of the words coming though from Stephen's end when she realises why she can't get the covers off.
She's not the only one tangled up in them.
Connor's still asleep, drooling slightly, and she stares at him, barely registering Stephen's 'okay' and 'Abby?' and something about 'unexpected side effects' and 'hallucinogenic' and possibly something about anomalies and air pressure and spores and...
Oh God. She had sex with Connor.
Oh God. She said that out loud.
"Well." Stephen sounds amused, damn him, and normally she'd tear him a new one right about this point but she's rather busy trying to ease the covers up over her - very naked, now that she's noticed - chest. "That explains where you two rushed off to."
Yeah. She rushed off to have sex with Connor, apparently, and she's never, ever going to live this down.
"Are you okay?"
Apart from the nakedness, yes. She manages not to say that out loud. Just. Perhaps she's still drunk or something.
"What happened?" she asks before memories assail her - Connor's mouth and Connor's tongue and Connor's fingers and... there are sense memories, too, pressing for her attention: the heavy, firm weight of Connor's cock in her hand and the taste of him on her tongue and, oh God, she thinks he's naked under the covers too.
She's not panicking. She's not.
"Weren't you listening?"
"I was a little..." Naked. "Look, Stephen. I've just woken up. And Connor's..."
Connor's waking up too. He's stretching out like a cat, the lines of his shoulders a sharp relief against the bright light streaming through the windows. He yawns and rolls over, scratching at his belly although the covers, thankfully, remain wrapped around his waist. The look on his face when he finally catches sight of her is almost comical and he then freezes, a multitude of expressions flying over his face.
Not all of them are good.
"As far as we can tell..." Stephen's voice is a steady presence in her ear and she catches hold of that, using it as an excuse not to look at Connor stretched out and naked beside her. Her face is burning and it's difficult to tune into what Stephen is saying when she's hyperaware of Connor, in her bed, next to her. Very possibly naked. "The air on the other side of the anomaly was warmer than the air on this side. That meant that the convection currents moved it through to this side of the anomaly and apparently it brought something with it."
"Something that had Jenny trying to stick her tongue down Cutter's throat and apparently resulted in you and Connor having sex." His tone is very dry, the way that only someone who isn't terminally embarrassed can be. Bastard. And then - perhaps sensing her embarrassment, or maybe just the 'die die die' vibes she's sending in his direction - he adds, more briskly, "Our best guess at the moment is pollen, but there don't seem to be any long term effects."
Easy for him to say. Bastard. Trust Stephen to be able to walk away from it unscathed and cool as always, while she and Connor and Jenny...
"Was Cutter affected too?" Maybe it only affects females, which would explain Jenny's amorous attentions although... not Connor's.
Connor is most definitely not female. She now has first hand knowledge of that fact, and she squeezes her eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore the way that Connor is slowly wriggling his way back down under the covers, his face as red as hers and his eyes a little scared. Maybe he thinks that the 'die die die' vibes she's sending at Stephen are aimed at him.
She'd turn and reassure him on that point if it wasn't for the whole nakedness thing.
"Yes, Cutter was affected. You all were. Unfortunately, I was so busy trying to separate the pair of them that I didn't realise that you and Connor had taken off until it was too late. But I figured you were in safe hands."
Connor's hands. They'd...
She pulls her mind firmly back on track, trying to concentrate on Stephen rather than the vague and tantalising memories that insist on ambushing her when she isn't expecting them. Maybe she's still affected by whatever it was that had caused this in the first place. She didn't feel drugged, though. What she feels is...
Actually, what she feels is relaxed - a little languid and a little sore. The headache is receding though, and so is the queasiness, and apparently this thing - whatever it is - results in the shortest hangover ever. At least the physical kind.
"How come you weren't... affected?"
There's a brief hesitation from Stephen's end and then he says, slowly, "I was far enough away not to be affected immediately. It didn't hit until I got back to the ARC." He pauses and she waits because it's better to sit there listening to him, waiting for him to explain, than to look at Connor and have to do some explaining of her own. "I... I had to apologise to Lester this morning."
"Look," Stephen's voice is coming faster now and maybe he hasn't walked away from this as cool and collected as he always is. "I just wanted to make sure that you and Connor were okay. Lester," he stumbles slightly over the name and Abby can't help the wicked little grin that rises to the surface. No risk of her being teased about Connor when she has Lester to hang over his head. "Lester said that providing you hadn't done anything that would bring the British Government into disrepute or require Jenny to do some fast talking with the British press - which would be a bit difficult as... well, she was still pretty much wrapped around Cutter the last time I saw either of them - he wants you to stay exactly where you are until we've figured this out. You're safe, right?"
"Yeah. We're... we're at home. We're fine."
"Okay." He sounds decisive now - the Stephen she knows - but if he thinks she's going to let the Lester thing lie, he's got another thing coming. Possibly literally and... she's back to 'eew'. "Stay exactly where you are," he repeats. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"
She closes the phone slowly and places it back on her bedside table. Connor's a silent - and nervous - presence at her side as she slips back down under the covers, looking at the ceiling rather than him.
"Stephen says it was a side effect of something coming through the anomaly."
She steals a glance at Connor but he's not looking at her, instead staring down at where his fingers are picking at the sheet.
"Pollen, they reckon."
"Nick and Jenny are..."
"Oh." Connor's still sharing at the sheet like it holds all of the mysteries of the world. "So we're not..."
He still won't look at her and she blurts out, "I think Stephen had sex with Lester."
Now that gets his attention. He stares at her open mouthed for a long moment and then he blushes, furiously.
"So, you know," she says, aiming for kind but the words come out a little fast and a little high pitched, "it could have been worse." Ouch. His shoulders come up again but it's a defensive move this time as he hunkers down, his expression sliding slowly but surely towards misery. "I mean... than with me," she adds hastily and that slow slide stops, Connor finally looking up at her, his expression now edging towards... hopeful.
"Wait. Did you say... Are you trying to tell me that my first time was because of prehistoric sex pollen?" His voice rises steadily and then...
He seems to realise what he's said at the same time she does, and slaps his hand over his mouth, staring at her with eyes that are wide and panicked over the top of it. He's still wearing his gloves and it strikes her suddenly as really, really silly but really Connor. There's more giddiness, but this time it's down to relief because this is going to be okay because this is Connor. She has to fight the laugh though, because Connor wouldn't take it the right way. She can't say she'd blame him if he didn't. Not when he's still looking like he's expecting her to rip his heart out with her teeth at any second.
Instead she settles on a tentative, "First time?"
"And I don't remember it."
He slaps his hand over his mouth again but not quickly enough to completely mask the mumbling complaint and this time she can't hold her grin in but can only duck her head to try and hide it.
She can't remember it either, not that. There are other memories - heat and sweat and Connor's fingers in her hair, against her breast - but no memory of... She aches a little, and there's a wetness between her legs still, but ...
She hasn't had a boyfriend for ages, and she's only had her fingers or something with batteries to keep her occupied, so she thinks if they had, if they had done that, gone that far, she'd have noticed. Instead, the only soreness is at the junction of her thighs, and feels more like stubble burn and...
He was quite good at it too, from what she can remember.
"I don't think we... I mean, we didn't..."
"Oh." He sounds - and looks - a little disappointed this time, then he catches her watching him and ducks his head, his face red again. "I mean... that's good. Right?"
She hasn't had a boyfriend for ages and Connor's her best friend and... well, she'd be lying if she didn't admit that she thinks he's kind of cute. And at the moment, he's more than cute, all rumpled and adorable with his hair in his face and his expression almost pleading. And there's that whole naked thing as well. And Stephen did say that they should stay right where they were.
She still has some condoms around from the last time she did have a boyfriend. They should still be in date. It hasn't been that long. Has it?
Besides, everyone should be able to remember their first time. And everyone should have a first time that's memorable.
She watches him carefully as she says, "Stephen says that we should just stay right here until they've figured it out."
"Oh," he says again, and then he must see something in her face because he adds an, "Oh!" It's a little more enthusiastic this time, and his face lights up.
She smiles and leans a little closer and if the sheet slips a little, well. These things happen, right?
"Connor..." she begins but then she's distracted again and not, this time, by his nakedness.
He doesn't taste of chocolate, although she doesn't know why she would think he should. Instead, he tastes a little like her and a lot like himself. She thinks she likes it. A lot.
She slides her fingers into his hair and he makes a sound that's half a gasp and half a purr against his mouth, and she melts into him, goes with the flow.
Maybe the earth moves this time too. Just a little.