A/N: this is not connected to my other Primeval/His Dark Materials fic, "Reflections of the Soul." All the dæmons have different names and forms, listed below.

Cutter – Laiguline, serval
Stephen – Ajība, tayra
Connor – Imzadi, common genet
Abby – Aegis, armadillo lizard
Claudia – Leonidas, mink
Ryan – Misha, Irish wolfhound

The new lads under the newly-promoted Admiral Tom Ryan's command often wondered just how in the hell the ragtag civilian team worked together at all, especially with the impressive-if-unconventional efficiency they did. They were all just so very different, none of them alike in any particular way. Sometimes he himself wondered how they worked so well together, how individuals from so many different backgrounds, with different personalities, could come together to form a team that worked together better than some units he'd seen.

But he never doubted that they were a team. Not once.

Because he had seen the grim determination on their faces when a pack of eustreptospondylus raptors appeared in a park full of civilians. He'd seen Stephen pull Connor out of a creature's claws and teeth by the scruff of his neck, seen Cutter run into the path of a very irate gorgonopsid to save Claudia, seen Connor take on a raptor with nothing more than a large tree branch when it came after Abby. They were a team. They looked after each other and kept each other safe, as they were supposed to, and not just because it was their job. They were, in a way, almost a family. Cutter the father that guided and led them, Stephen the protective older brother, Connor the nerdy little brother, Abby the spunky baby sister, Claudia the gentle and loving mother figure, and even Lester, the stern yet watchful godfather always keeping an eye on everyone. Ryan would just as willingly trust them with his life as he would his own unit.

That trust was cemented with the latest anomaly. A pack – herd? Troop? Gaggle? – of very large, very toothy utahraptors had charged straight into a shopping centre with claws out. Cutter hadn't hesitated even a second to give Ryan the kill order. Stephen had tossed out his tranquilisers and loaded up his high-powered rifle with live rounds, as had Abby. Connor was still shite with guns, but he could throw a knife with unerring precision, and he carried a dozen small throwing knives with him. Ryan once doubted their efficiency, but that doubt vanished after the geek threw one straight into the eye of a charging sabre-tooth, dropping it dead just like that.

They'd gone in there guns blazing, taking down one prehistoric predator after the next, following the trails of blood and screams to their next target. Cutter had led his team through without hesitation to save an unfortunate victim that'd been pulled through the anomaly itself, coming back dirty and scraped and bruised, supporting an injured-yet-alive civilian between them.

Now there they sat, still bruised and dirty and scratched, in one of the otherwise-empty break rooms of the Home Office. None of the were speaking, but beneath the table was another story.

The team's dæmons lay talking together. Laiguline was curled close to Leonidas, their tails entwined, and Laiguline was talking animatedly about the evolutionary track of the utahraptors and how it differed from other theropods, Leonidas listening with rapt attention. Ajība was stretched out on her back, paws in the air as she and Aegis traded accounts of the event, comparing shots they'd made and how accurate their aim was. Imzadi was silent, as she always was – funny, how such a chatterbox had an eternally silent dæmon – but she was listening closely, sometimes smiling. They were all just as disheveled as their human counterparts, but it made no difference to them. They were alive and together. They were happy.

Ryan almost didn't want to intrude, but Misha made that choice for him. His own dear soul trotted forward, forcing him to follow with her, and flopped down between Laiguline and Ajība, joining the conversation. None of them protested her presence and began conversing with her just as easily. Above the table, the rest of the team gave him a slight look, then Stephen lifted a leg and pushed out the last empty chair with one foot as Cutter slid an unopened beer across the table towards him. Ryan sank down into the chair, snapping open the beer without a word, not breaking the pleasant quiet with its undercurrent of dæmon chatter.

As different as they all were, there was no doubt that they worked together well, and Ryan was damned proud to be a part of it.