misura (misura) wrote in primevalathon,
misura
misura
primevalathon

fic: Another Day, Another Problem (for woodstock12)

Title: Another Day, Another Problem
Author: misura
Recipient: woodstock12
Prompt(s): Bank robbery (with added elements from the other prompts provided)
Pairing(s), if any: Stephen/Abby and Danny/Connor (both mildly implied)
Rating: G / All ages
Summary: "I'm going to ask Jenny where I can buy some M&Ms in bulk," Stephen said.
Warnings: No spoilers, no claim to being set in a canonical timeline.
Disclaimer: I do own Primeval on DVD, but other than that, nope.


On Monday, a new anomaly appeared in the Forest of Dean and Danny spent a night in what had to be the least skillfully built treehouse he'd ever had the misfortune to spend a night in.

"Looks fine to me," Connor said, patting the wall as if wanting to apologize for Danny having just spent a good fifteen minutes on explaining why it was, in fact, not fine. "Got walls and everything."

"They used duct tape to put on the roof." Danny'd built tree houses as a kid. "Duct tape." He'd never used duct tape - at least not for building a tree house. To fix his bike, sure. Still did, sometimes. Worked great.

Connor looked like he wanted to argue the point. All night, maybe.

"How's the ankle?" Danny asked, kneeling down and reaching out to grab it. To grasp it. Lightly. Just so he could check if it was still painful.

Connor yelped.

"Still painful, eh?" It wasn't broken. Danny wouldn't go around grasping someone's broken ankle.

"I think it might be broken," Connor said.

Danny dug up a bag of M&Ms and tossed one out of the window. There was some shrieking and whistling. "Look on the bright side," he said. "Could be you down there."

"You wouldn't." Connor looked sort of pale though, which was just - well, he was right. Danny wouldn't. "Not funny."

"I'm going to try and get some sleep." It was a tough decision whether to use his jacket as a blanket or to roll it up and turn it into a pillow. "Suggest you do the same." Of course, if he used Connor for a pillow, that might work out nicely, too.

"Um," Connor said. "I'm cold."

(Using Connor for a pillow and his jacket for a blanket worked out quite nicely, indeed - except that it started raining halfway the night, and of course the treehouse's duct-taped roof was leaky like a sieve.)


On Tuesday, Danny's nose was red and he sneezed a lot. Connor was still limping a little, but otherwise fine - not even a hint of a sniffle. Becker, predictably yet still unfairly, was smug.

Abby had acquired a new pet.

"I think it likes toes." Stephen looked like he'd had about the same kind of night Danny'd had, only minus the whole treehouse experience.

"M&Ms," Danny said. "Loves them. Except for the green ones." Becker'd found quite a few underneath the treehouse. Personally, Danny hardly tasted any difference.

Stephen looked curious. "I don't think they had M&Ms in that era. Or chocolate."

"Best not to feed it something it's not used to," Connor put in, looking positively saintly. Clearly, he didn't find the idea of Stephen's toes being nibbled on too worrying. "Could make it mutate or something. Like the Hulk - only, you know, with a big, scary dinosaur."

"I'm going to ask Jenny where I can buy some M&Ms in bulk," Stephen said.

"He could just sleep somewhere else if he doesn't like Abby's pets," Connor commented, watching Abby watch Stephen as he walked over to Jenny's office.


On Wednesday, the detector picked up a new anomaly in the heart of London.

The good news was that it was in a fully secured location - one where it was highly unlikely that anything coming through would go wandering the streets of London and eat people.

The bad news was that it was in a bank vault.

Which wouldn't have been Danny's problem - it wasn't a bank where he had any of his money or valuables stored, and anyway, what were the odds of this particular anomaly leading to an era where creatures knew how to crack safety deposit boxes or were attracted to bright shiny pound notes?

"Not gold bars?" Connor asked, looking oddly disappointed. "In the movies, there's always gold bars."

"Would someone please inform Mr. Temple we are, in fact, not in Hollywood?" Lester turned to Becker. "We can force an entry if we have to, I assume?"

"Could just ask for a key," Danny said, because Becker looked disgustingly happy at the prospect of getting to blow something up. And anyway, it was true.

Becker glanced at Danny in a way that might have hurt Danny's feelings if he'd been more sensitive. "Not a problem, sir," he told Lester.


On Thursday therefore, Danny found himself robbing a bank. Or, well, walking into the building and politely asking someone to take him to the vault and then open it for him.

Taking him to the vault was not a problem. Becker standing next to him looking like he might shoot someone had nothing to do with it; Danny was good with people, was what it was. Pure charm, if he put his mind to it.

Becker should be taking notes, really, not walk by his side looking like he'd never cracked a smile in his life and didn't plan on changing that any time soon.

The vault door looked plenty impressive, at least. Connor'd have loved it. It looked thick and solid and impossible to get through unless you were packing some serious explosives. On a wall next to the door was a keypad - nothing too fancy, with iris scanners or stuff like that. Just a keypad.

"I don't know the code." The nice young woman who'd brought them this far nervously glanced at Becker. "Only the manager knows that."

"Thanks, you've been very helpful," Danny said. "Why don't you go grab a nice cup of tea or something now? We'll take it from here."

Becker's arched eyebrow said more than fifteen minutes of Connor babbling non-stop.

"Try to leave the building standing, will you?"

Becker's lips curled upwards by perhaps a tenth of an inch.


On Friday, Danny was in jail, which might have been more bearable if Becker had been there, too (although probably not, because Becker'd likely as not have just sat there, impassive, which would have gotten on Danny's nerves pretty quickly).

The food was decent, at least, although Danny had little doubt that would change pretty quickly as soon as the cops found out he'd been one of them, once. Hopefully though, by that time, he'd be gone.

"This all seems strangely familiar, don't you think?" Jenny's voice drifted in through the small window in the door. Danny wondered if Connor was with her.

"You people were trespassing." For good reasons, perhaps, but then, it wasn't as if Danny had walked into that bank vault to steal something.

"So were you."

Danny didn't bother pointing out Lester had practically (but not quite literally) ordered them to get into the bank vault. "You here to get me out?" She'd better be - Danny was going to ask for a raise anyway, but if Lester was going to leave him stuck here for another day, he was going to insist on a bonus, too.

"We've informed the London police there has been a small misunderstanding," Jenny said as the door swung open.

Connor had come with her after all, looking a little nervous and like he'd have prefered to be somewhere else. Danny figured that maybe Connor felt like he'd owed it to Danny to come, after that night in the treehouse, which was sort of sweet, if probably not quite a declaration of ever-lasting love.

"Fantastic." Danny tried not to sound too sarcastic.

Jenny's expression turned slightly frosty. "You're a free man again now, Mr. Quinn."

"Should I kiss you?" A 'thank you' was probably what she felt was called for, only Danny honestly didn't quite think she was right. She wasn't the one who'd spent a night in a jail cell after all, like he was some sort of criminal, instead of an ordinary guy trying to save the world.

Jenny wrinkled her nose at him. Danny assumed that meant she'd rather kiss her fiance.

"I'm available for kissing," Connor said brightly.


On Saturday, Danny decided the world owed him a nice, quiet day.

(That wasn't what he got, of course.)
Tags: author: misura, genre: het, genre: slash, pairing: abby/stephen, pairing: connor/danny, year: 2010 autumn
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