I hope she would.
"What's that?" Jack asked, coming to stand by her at the window.
It was late. On her way into the flat she had woken him up: he was rubbing his eyes and his hair was mussed.
She waved her lighter at him. "Don't touch."
He held his hands up. "I'm not, Abby."
"That's a lot of candles," he added a second later. She was lighting them, one by one, lined up in the window.
"I know." He was right. It was a lot; too many.
"What are they for?"
She touched the tip of her lighter to the wick of the last one and it flared to life. She turned to face him briefly. "It's a memorial."
"A memorial?" he repeated.
"Yes," she glanced out at the city lights, "to everyone who's been lost at my work."
"So, what, this one's for Peter Panda and this one's for Kissy the Sea Lion?" He tapped the two largest ones.
She caught his hand. "Yeah, basically. Don't touch."
The memorial was going to grow tonight. She dug through the bag on the ground at her feet, drew out the new candle she had stopped on her way home to buy. Small, because it was for a stranger. She placed it alongside the rest and lit it. It flickered against the reflection in the window pane.
Her somber expression must have caught Jack's attention. "Hey, I'm sorry, sis," he said. "Whoever they're for must have been important to you."
"Well," she said, running her fingers along the length of the shelf where the two largest candles sat, "they were all important to someone."
Can I just say how much I love the relationship between these two? How they exist to drive each other crazy, but she's the one who can bring out his good side, and as much as she berates him, she still loves him.
Anyway, I don't own Primeval. I keep an anomaly in my bedroom though.