Out of Place

A/N: First of all I haven't seen the last Primeval episode yet, so no spoilers in reviews if possible please! . and second... this occurred to me after writing my last Jecker fic. I love Emily way more than I thought I would and I don't think they explored the 19th century woman in her nearly as much as they could have done. This is where this story comes in. Bit of Merchant awesomeness and friendship with Connor.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

"I'm hungry," said Emily as she laid a pale hand upon her belly and frowned.

Another anomaly alert, another routine take-down, and now it felt like demons had been set to rest inside her stomach – she was absolutely starving.

Becker however did not seem to care one bit. He'd seemed ever anxious to return to the arc quickly since the insect infiltration. And now they all knew the name that would flush his cheeks he didn't seem at all concerned with hiding it. He'd not quite forgiven Connor either.
Matt was ever urgent these days as well. Emily wondered at the importance of sustenance in this future world he came from. But then what did she know of future worlds? She was Victorian, high born, and by definition used to an almost constant spread.

Becker had spotted the car now and began to stride faster towards it. But before Emily could follow, the demons began to grind and groan immeasurably. Connor stopped dead ahead of her and turned to her with a queer grin.
"Hungry, eh?"
Emily blushed and quickly tugged at the back of her shirt. "It doesn't matter now, we have to get back."
"Always time for a snack, ain't there? I don't see why they're in such a rush," Connor complained, gesturing team 'action' over there. "Me legs cramping up."

Emily smiled politely at him. Connor was sweet but sometimes she just had no idea how to respond to his modern forthrightness. She started to make her way around him but he caught her hand suddenly.
"Hold up!" A few gold coins clattered into the gutter beneath their arms. Connor groaned and leant back on his knees.

"Aw, I swear I had it this time!" Connor sighed as he swept them up in his gloves. "Oh, uh... sorry. It's this trick thing. Abby always said I couldn't... uh never mind, ey." Emily's queer expression was enough to staunch his explanation.
"Here," he said abruptly, shoving the coins into Emily's palm. "There's a shopping centre over there, get a slushie or something, on me." He ran off leaving Emily to ponder over the strange language.
"Oh! Careful of the brain freeze!" He called, knocking his head and grinning and he ran towards the car. The mist from the headlights shrouded him entirely and now Emily was alone.

Her brow furrowed and she weighed the metal gently in her palm.
"1... 2... 3... ... 5! Oh my..." she breathed. This was more than she had paid her maid in a six month. Emily had always belonged to wealthy families and as such had done business with credit and not cash. She'd rarely even seen this amount of money at once as Henry had always kept a tight fist around his purse; preferring her wardrobe and niceties to be of his taste rather than hers. The coins looked different to those she remembered. The stern face of Victoria had been replaced by an entirely new monarch. Emily fleetingly wondered how long her Queen had lived.

She closed her hand, determined to keep the money safe. Connor, though a rich man she had not thought him, trusted her, and she would not spend his money so frivolously.
She spied the 'shopping centre' Connor had pointed her towards; happily lit with a – what was it? Oh yes – one of those neon signs. Emily wondered if a painted one would not have done just as well, not to mention soothe the glare to her eyes.

She wondered inside, aware of looking totally competent, and marvelled at the hurry of these people. Back in her old life she would have spent at least half a day picking out a ribbon cutting for her dress or bonnet and then of course if she wanted a lace petticoat, it required at least as much thought. The people of this time were not bothered by such intricacies. One woman she spied in a shop window was even admiring a dress which had unravelled slightly at the back. Emily would not have given any merchant a second look seeing quality as careless as that.

Emily finally sought a small machine donning the words she was looking for. This was what a slushie was apparently. She grabbed a cup from the side and then eyed the bright blue and red mixture warily. This did not seem natural. There were two levers under each. She assumed she was supposed to push these. As soon as she did the thick, icy substance came oozing out and she let go almost in fright. "You've gotta put your cup underneath," said a girl in a flat voice as she passed by.
"Oh, oh thank you. You are very kind to help," Emily replied but the girl was already gone.

She tried it, both colours, and they swirled together in her cup, her hands quickly freezing as it filled. She wanted to put it to her lips but it seemed too monstrous a concoction. She decided she would wait until it warmed up a little.
Walking back amongst the shops she hoped that Connor had remembered to tell the others where she was and to wait. She didn't want to be stuck in a place such as this.

She held her slushie firmly between both hands and started back to where she believed the exit to be; but she couldn't help being warped in to the personal chatting of passers-by. "Your frivolousness brings shame," she shockingly exclaimed to a woman who had apparently spent twenty whole pounds on a dress and thought she was well off. To another she applauded for resisting the swarm of 'sales' – a marketing technique Matt had told her. There were so many new words to comprehend in this world.

A firm hand gripped her shoulder and she whipped around in indignation.
He was a big man and he had a firm glare and his hand wasn't loosening its hold. Shadows swam in the dip of his eyes as his brows bristled forbearingly at her. Suddenly Emily was very, very afraid; she felt more like a nineteenth century woman than she ever had before. He looked a little like her husband.

"Remove your hands," she commanded, keeping her voice steady. She knew that if it wavered she was in trouble. He looked a little surprised but he didn't move other than to shuffle. Then she shoved him away and dropped an elbow to his waist. When he fell easily, sprawling on the floor, she realised her mistake.

"Woah, woah, woah!" called a voice behind her. "I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already beating up helpless... slushie men."
All too quickly she saw the apron and name tag and red spluttering face. "Oh..."
"You were meant to pay for that," the slushie man said a little angrily, hand slapped to his cheek. "You women think you own the bloody place..."
"Right, uh, how much?" Connor asked, rustling up change in his pocket.

When he told him Emily wanted to drop the man again. She stopped Connors hand and faced the slushie man with an angry glare.
"How dare you," she said as colour rose in her cheeks. "I would be surprised if this poison cost a half-penny but you dare charge this man – he's not as stupid as he looks you know – a whole two pounds? Connor, have you bought from this man before? Don't you ever do it again. This man is a con-thief, preying on the innocent little-lived in the world. Sir, I demand you lower your prices immediately or I shall call the authorities and they shall have you deported to... to whatever land you come from." She gestured vaguely at his tangoed skin. She obviously hadn't the concept of spray tan either.

"Keep the change," Connor said and he crushed a fiver into the man's hand. "Let's go," he hissed and grabbed Emily and pulling her fast towards the exit.
"Why did you give in?" Emily cried as they burst out the doors. "It's men like that who might run your future if you let them get away with it."
Connor panted and searched out for direction of the car. "They're waiting for us somewhere... told me to come get you. What took you so long anyway?"
"Connor! Listen to me."

He sighed and opened her palm. The coins he'd given her were still crushed against the side of the cup. He took one of them and held it in front of her face. "Emily, what is this actually worth to you?"
She pursued her lips. "A couple weeks' wages? Food enough for ten days? Maybe a mount or two? Connor, that man should be jailed."
"Yeah, you see. One pound in 2011... won't even buy you a drink. Maybe... a hundred penny sweets," he grinned. "But that's it. It's worth like... almost nothing. That man, he wasn't doing anything wrong. That's just how much money is these days."

It dawned on Emily quite suddenly. "So... you are all rich?" She questioned, studying the pound.
Connor laughed. "All poor more like." And then he spied her unopened slushie. "All that trouble and you haven't even had any!" He seemed almost distraught.
Emily tested the sides and winced at the cold. "I was waiting for it to reach a more suitable temperature," she explained. "It didn't seem enjoyable."

"Oh my god, Matt's taught you nothing, has he," Connor sighed and he took a swig from her cup. "It's crushed ice, it doesn't cool or whatever it just... melts."
Emily peered into the red and blue dissolution. "Crushed ice is not this colour."

Connor smiled at that. "What has Matt actually been teaching you then?"
"Ah!" Emily lit up. "He explained all about marketing, and about developments in nuclear science I believe."
"He can teach you nuclear science but he can't manage currency?" Connor shook his head and laughed. "Priorities all right. Lucky girl."
She laughed with him. Matt perhaps wasn't the best authority on twenty first century living.

The next time an anomaly sounds, they sneak off together into the shopping centre.
It's the start of a new tradition.

A/N: I like to write Emily far more out of place than she is in the show so that's where any inconsistencies lie :P
This was only a quick piece I wrote in class but still, I hope someone enjoys it (: R&R please!
I realllllyyy want to see Connor/Emily friendship! D: Have they even talked?