Author's Note- Just fluff that was hanging about in my head so I decided to write it. Please review saying what you think. I know it's not the best I've ever done but... hey ho...
Disclaimer- Still not making any money from this as I don't actually own primeval or any of the characters. Hey, if I had a pound for every primeval fanfic I've ever written then I'd be a very bruised person! Get it? Pound- money/ pound- punch?? Never mind.
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It was a Sunday. A lazy Sunday. It was very, very hot and scientists were predicting that it was to be the hottest day in Britain of the year or, even, the hottest day of the century. As usual, in the height of Summer, Bournemouth Beach was crowded with people making headlines all over the country. But Abby Maitland wouldn't be able to stand that. She was happier here- in her own garden. She was lying on a sun-lounger, a thick adventure novel in one hand (she never was a romantic) and a glass of an icy cold fruit punch in the other. Another perk was Connor, who was her willing slave for the day after losing a game of cards. Several games of cards. Abby knew he didn't have much money so she forced him into slavery every time they played (Connor had not yet beaten her). She looked over at him, lting on his front, tapping away on his laptop. The factor 50 sun tan lotion lay beside him, but his pale skin was beginning to turn a reddish colour- a telltale sign of sunburn.
"Connor," she said, trying to catch his attention.
"Yes?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the screen.
"You're burning again." She grinned. Now he was sat up. He swore and cracked open the sun-cream. Whilst he rubbed it in to his skin, Abby took the chance to look at the screen of his laptop.
"Star Wars fan club?" she laughed.
"Hey! That's private!" Connor cried, minimizing it with his toe. Abby raised an eyebrow at him and gulped down the last of her fruit punch.
"Get me some more punch slave." She ordered.
"Get it yourself." He muttered, attempting to contort his body hilariously so that he could smear cream on his bare back. Abby laughed.
"Come here." She said and and squeezed some sun-cream into her own and before rubbing it on Connor's back.
"Thanks," he said and threw her a cheeky grin, "Slave."
"Yes. Drink. Go." Abby forced the empty glass into his hand and watched him retreat indoors. As she watched him go, she ignored the girly flutter she felt her heart give. "Stop it." She told herself, "I am not in love with Connor." She never was a romantic.
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That's all. Please review. Change of tactic. Cake for reviews as well as chocolate. Please? Someone?