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A Walk in the Park by alyse [Reviews - 12]
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Category: Primeval > Het > Abby/Connor
Characters: Abby Maitland, Connor Temple, Other
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Warnings: None

Summary: Her only excuse is that she might have seen a few too many secret agent movies when she was a kid.

Pairing: Abby/Connor



Story Notes:
Spoilers: Set just after Season 2, so there are some references to what happens

Author's Chapter Notes:
I have this thing about Abby and Connor kissing, and I just have to share. Thanks to Temaris for the beta read.



Abby spots him first. It’s not surprising she’s the one to see him because Connor is wittering on about something or other and not paying any attention to anything except what’s going on in his head and, possibly, Abby. As for Abby, well, it’s not really fair to say that she’s tuned Connor out. She hasn’t, exactly. It’s just that she’s letting the words wash over her, a constant litany of excitement that says he’s there, just beside her, thrilled about something. It’s a nice day, all in all. The sun’s shining, dappling the grass under the trees in the park, and they’re finally heading home, away from the ARC, where everything at the moment just seems dark and depressing.

Compared to that, the precise details of the ‘what’ that Connor is excited about don’t seem important.

What is surprising is that when she catches a glimpse of the figure striding down the path towards them, he’s weirdly familiar; the scowl, the way he takes up most of the path even when it’s not necessary. It takes a second for it all to click into place and then she freezes, as though that’s going to do any good. Connor – being Connor – remains oblivious. He doesn’t even notice that she’s stopped – just continues talking, managing to walk straight into the back of her. She rocks on her feet, hand automatically reaching behind her to push Connor off her heels; this would be why she wears Doc Martens to work.

“Abby?”

She’s got a split second before the man looks up and sees her – sees them, and it’s him seeing Connor that scares the hell out of her. God only knows why. Except…

Except if it is who she thinks it is – the guy they saw at the shopping centre, the one Connor thought he recognised in the ARC and who they’ve not seen since – then there’s only one reason he would have been in both of those places.

He’s one of Leek’s.

That would be why it scares the hell out of her.

He’s still heading towards them, all business and no bullshit. His head starts to come up. Any second now he’ll see them. Any second.

“Abby?”

Her only excuse is that she might have seen a few too many secret agent movies when she was a kid. Certainly it’s a move worthy of James Bond, only Bond would probably have shot the bloke heading towards him while he was doing it, and that would be strangely appropriate given that he reminds her of the generic Bond thug – all brawn, no brains and a face like a thousand fists.

Napoleon Solo then. Yes, this is a move he’d have pulled.

At least that’s her excuse and she’s sticking with it.

Connor lets out a muffled squawk when her mouth settles over his and she pushes him back into the shade. He stumbles slightly until his back hits the tree trunk but she doesn’t let their mouths break contact, following him every step of the way until it’s the weight of her body holding him there, pressed against the bark. He doesn’t fight it – he’s probably too surprised – but his hands do this weird clutching type thing by her shoulders without ever making contact. At least not at first. Then one of his hands settles tentatively on her shoulder and his mouth softens under hers.

Now that there’s no need to pin him in place, she can bring her hands up to cup his face, holding his head steady. She tells herself it’s so she can hide Connor’s face from any curious eyes, from anyone who might recognise him. And so Connor can’t pull away, ask any awkward questions before she’s ready for them. But he’s not pulling away. He’s not doing anything except letting her in.

The hand on her shoulder moves slowly down her arm. Connor doesn’t grab at her; instead, it’s almost like it slips, like the weight of it is too heavy for Connor to keep it in place. She doesn’t close her eyes, listening for the footsteps she knows are coming up the gravel path towards them, but it means that she’s left watching Connor’s face instead.

Connor’s eyes are closed. He’s so near she could count his eyelashes, one by one. They’re long for a man’s, sweeping down towards his cheeks. His eyelids are almost translucent, strangely vulnerable; there’s a faint furrow between his brows and dark shadows beneath his eyes.

They’ve not been sleeping well recently, either of them. It’s probably why she’s so on edge.

She lets her thumb stroke gently over his cheekbone and that furrow smoothes out. That reaction, that trust, twists something in her chest and she shouldn’t, she knows she shouldn’t, that it’s pushing both of them out into deeper water, but she gives into the temptation and lets the tip of her tongue trace the line between his parted lips.

Now his fingers clutch at her arm but it’s not painful; Connor would never hurt her. He pulls her closer instead, his head tilting a little more to the side, mouth opening under hers. This time the tip of his tongue touches hers and it’s soft, hesitant.

There are finally footsteps behind her and they pause, move on. She sinks her fingers into Connor’s hair, closes her eyes and kisses him back until they’ve faded into the distance again, until they’re long gone and the only sound left is birdsong.

Only then does she step away.

Connor’s watching her, heavy lidded, mouth slack and shiny. He still has one hand resting on the bark of the tree, and he uses it to push himself back upright. It’s…

She can’t look at him anymore, not when something too large to cope with is twisting inside her; she looks away instead, glancing up and down the path and trying not to be too obvious about it.

There’s no sign of the not-cleaner and she frowns, wondering how the hell he got so far so fast. Admittedly, she’d been a little distracted...

“Um…” It’s Connor who breaks the silence, sounding a little stunned, and her attention snaps back to him.

“Did you see where he went?”

Connor blinks at her, thrown completely off track. “What? Who?”

“That guy.” Her tone might be a little exasperated, but that’s because the bad guy might have got away – assuming that it was who she thought it was and not just some poor bloke having a nice walk in the sunshine and then being confronted by spontaneous kissing breaking out all around him. It’s got nothing to do with the way that she can’t seem to take her eyes off Connor’s mouth now that she’s facing him again. And even if the rapid rhythm of her heart has something to do with it, it’s adrenaline, that’s all. That’s got to be all, right?

Although for someone who she thinks hasn’t had much practice, Connor’s kisses were slow and sweet and, God help her, she wants more of them.

“Guy? What guy?”

Now Connor sounds – and looks – totally bewildered.

“The cleaner from the shopping centre. The one you said you saw in the ARC. Didn’t you see him? C’mon, Connor –“

And there she stops. Connor’s far from stupid. Okay, he can be a little dense sometimes when it comes to actual living, breathing people rather than dinosaurs, but that doesn’t mean he can’t put two and two together and come up with four eventually. She can see the exact moment when he gets it, and that’s what stops the words in her throat. He gets that look on his face – that closed in, miserable one. It’s exactly the same as the one he got when he finally twigged to the fact that his girlfriend – ex-girlfriend – was an evil bitch.

Only this time Abby’s the evil bitch who’s put that look on his face, not Caroline.

“Oh.”

Connor looks away, up and down the path, avoiding her eyes. His face has flushed red and she was wrong; it’s not exactly the same look. It’s worse. He didn’t look anywhere near this hurt when it was only Caroline stomping on his heart. But then, he didn’t love Caroline, did he? Abby knows – just knows – that she’d heard him right, back on the other side of that anomaly. She just hasn’t known what to do about it.

“I can’t… I can’t see him.” That’s Connor – putting a brave face on it again. “Are you sure…?”

She can’t stand it. She hates that she’s hurt him. She feels about two inches tall and Connor will forgive her anyway. And all for something she can’t say for sure isn’t a paranoid fantasy.

She can’t hurt him. Can’t leave him hurt. She knows how he feels and now – finally – she knows what to do about it.

What is it they say about being hung for a sheep as well as a lamb?

He’s not quite as stunned this time but he still doesn’t fight her. It should make her feel better but it doesn’t, not really. When she pulls away this time, he just stares at her mouth for a split second, his expression edging into something wistful, then jerks away, eyes darting left and right as the colour moves up into his cheeks again.

“Is he…?”

“Hmmm?” she hums, moving for the kill in again. The pounding in her chest is starting to ease into something slow and steady; the feeling is nearly as sweet as he tastes. He’s still not fighting her and she can take comfort in the fact that Connor’s smart, even about people sometimes. He’ll get it eventually.

“The guy… is he?”

“What guy, Connor?”

This time she closes her eyes, taking her time, savouring it. And this time, Connor’s hand settles on her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers flexing slightly against her skin. She licks at the corner of his mouth and he opens up to her again, meeting her tongue with his. It’s…

Yeah. It just is. Her and Connor, and it feels like this is the way it should be.

When she pulls back, his lips are parted, swollen and shiny again, and his eyes are bright. That look’s gone and the one on his face now just makes her want to smile back. Do nothing but smile. Nothing except maybe kiss that smile again until she’s swallowed it down, let it light her up from the inside the way that just looking at her is lighting Connor up now.

No, Connor’s far from stupid but now even Abby gets that one and one make two. Eventually.

They’re alone in their little secluded corner of the park, no sign of anyone else, no bad memories or paranoid little fantasies. It must have been her imagination, and even if it wasn’t…

Leek’s taken too much from them. He’s dead now, and he’s staying dead. He’s not going to take anything else.

He’s not going to take this.

It’s a beautiful day. The sun’s shining through the leaves of the tree they’re under, and the air is still, heavy with the scent of summer. The birds are singing and, in the distance, she can hear the low rumbling of traffic. It’s a whole other world away. They’ll join them soon enough; head home, together. But for now…

For now, Connor’s hair is warm underneath her fingers and Connor’s kisses are slow and sweet.

The End






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