I have a bunch of short ficlets—varying bedroom scenes—and nowhere to use them. So they become very short one-shots. I'll publish them here when the mood strikes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval, or any of the characters or themes therein.
o…o
It's weird between them.
The first time they have sex is in the Cretaceous, which is patently a bad idea and if Abby had been herself she'd've weighed the perks of fucking Connor against the likely odds that she could get pregnant eighty million years in the past—considering she's still young enough to be dangerously fertile—and come to the conclusion that it was a really, really stupid idea. But they're scared and alone, and being close is a comfort and feels safe.
And then they come back and slowly re-acclimate to their own world and things go to business-as-usual with them, meaning Connor sleeps in his loft and she sleeps in her own bed and the sexual tension goes back to being thick as pea soup.
One night Abby catches him on his way up the stairs and drags him into her room and shoves him into her bed and he actually rips his t-shirt in his struggle to get his clothes off all at the same time. They spend the night together but the next night he goes up to his own room and they spend the night in their own separate beds.
It follows a pattern after that: for the most part their lives continue on as they always have, except when the tension between them gets a little too tense they have at it on any horizontal surface that's closest. Sofa, tables, countertops. The floor, even. But at night they retire to their separate corners and their separate beds, alone. There are some nights they spend together, but those are infrequent and in between they go for weeks without sleeping in the same bed.
It's Connor's turn to wake up with the animals and let Abby have a lie-in today. They have a new addition to their menagerie—a dawn horse, the earliest known horse ancestor, that they call Seabiscuit (or Biscuit or sometimes just Bikkie, because it's not like he or any of their other pets answer to their names) and that needs to be taken outside to stretch his legs. Since he looks mammalian they walk him about on a harness and tell people he's a rare Asian deer they're fostering for a zoo.
He accidentally wakes her up stumbling blindly into her bedroom in the dark—he hasn't turned the light on so as not to wake her—when he comes into her room looking for his boots, since it's raining and he has to take Seabiscuit for a walk. She can't go back to sleep after he leaves so she goes into the kitchen for breakfast. Partway through the comics section of the newspaper she hears him come back and hears the clickity-clack of Biscuit feet on the floor.
"Shush, you—you'll wake Abby up," he warns in a low tone.
"I'm already up," she calls from the kitchen.
He sticks his head in. "Oh. Sorry. It was supposed to be your day to sleep late, wasn't it?"
She shrugs.
"I left my boots last time I spent the night. Haven't needed 'em." He looks piteous and apologetic and his hair is dripping down his face from the rain. "I'll make sure I take all my stuff with me from now on."
"Or you could just sleep in my room from now on." She folds the paper and looks up in time to see his mouth fall open. "Saves us the trouble, doesn't it?"
He nods dumbly.
"And anyway, I like sleeping with you—you're warm."
Things are still a little weird for them. They don't know how to operate as a couple and have spent the last three years carefully dancing around the matter. It's a learning curve for both of them but they don't really mind. It isn't bad-weird, it's just different.
But everything in their life is weird. Why should this be any different?
And really—neither of them would have life any other way.