8.8 Another Show?
Connor and Abby slowly climbed up the steps from the sidewalk to the flat entrance. Juggling the packages he carried Connor fumbled for keys and started unlocking the locks. Abby gathered up the mail and magazines. The door clicked open and they entered the sanctuary of their flat.
"Long day", sighed Connor "I'll just set this down here and get my shoes off before putting everything away."
Abby nodded her head in agreement, absentmindedly setting the mail and magazines on the side table. She hung up her coat and watched in amusement as Connor started hopping on one foot while untying the boot laces from his other foot.
"I'll be glad when Becker gets back so you don't have to go out on anomaly alerts again," Abby said. "You are really not supposed to be in the field anymore."
"Well," hop, "…he needs," hop, "…a bit of extra time," hop, "…off for the wedding" hop, "…you know," Connor said breathlessly.
"Yes, but you're supposed to be in the research department now," Abby began.
The rustle of papers alerted her to the slide of magazines onto the floor. As Abby knelt to pick up the magazines, she noticed Connor's science fiction magazine had flopped open to a picture of a triceratops in a Canadian park.
"Hey Connor," said Abby, "Did you see this article in your magazine? They are making a spinoff of your favorite television show."
"Yeah," he snorted, "A darker, sexier version …hmph." Dropping his boot to the floor, he set his sock covered foot down and raised the other boot clad foot to repeat the hopping and untying process.
"What's wrong? I thought you would be happy that the show is continuing," said Abby.
"Hmph!" he grunted as the boot finally came off his foot. Wobbling precariously on one sock covered foot, he quickly straightened himself putting his other foot firmly on the floor.
Looking at Abby, he said "It won't be the same. It's not like I can talk to Mum about the new show." He bent down to retrieve the packages with one scoop of his arm, dangling his boots at a distance from his other hand. He continued, "She won't like the show if it has too much blood, you know."
"Oh," Abby said with dawning realization, "The dinosaur show… that's the one you and your Mum both like to watch…" She remembered the long phone conversations, Connor talking animatedly and laughing about some escapade between one of the show's characters and the dinosaurs.
"Yeah," he responded as he headed towards the kitchen.
Abby followed behind, watching as he set the packages down on the counter and put his boots in the sink. Turning the tap, he began running water over them. She watched appreciatively as he bent over to search under the sink for detergent.
"You know," she started again, "There's a reason you're supposed to be research department only now."
Connor stood and turned to face her, detergent in hand. "I know," he exclaimed, "I was operating the locking device, well back from the anomaly… the pteranadon just swooped out of nowhere." Connor's brown eyes looked directly at her, "I would never risk leaving you and," he started emphatically.
"Connor," Abby cried, "The water."
He turned quickly to shut off the tap as the water started cascading over the sink rim and onto the floor. "Great," he grumbled grabbing towels, "now I get to mop the floor as well as scrub pteranadon droppings off me boots."
Abby smirked a little hearing his words. Then, she walked over to the counter where the packages were. Searching, she found the one she wanted and opened it.
"Connor," she said quietly, "We should go to Bradford this weekend, see your Mum, yeah?"
Connor looked at her, holding the stuffed purple dinosaur above the gentle rounding of her abdomen. One quick step and he was wrapping his arms around her. "Oh yeah," he breathed. "That would be brilliant."