Hello. Yes, another chapter, hopefully humorous in nature. Involves some very cringey scene... =-D I've had a message about a sequel to Say Something. I've just about got an idea together for it now. I started this story directly after I finished Say Something, as I like to vary what I do. It's a testament to the crazy year I've had that this is only just being published. Anyway, hopefully over the Summer I can get through both. In the meantime, Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own a Primeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeval... or, as it's more commonly known, Primeval.

Upon getting home, Becker sighed and slumped down on his sofa. Scott bustled around him until eventually his flatmate sat down on his feet. Becker let out a yelp, before Scott got up enough for Becker to withdraw his toes. Scott laughed in amusement as the disgruntled soldier sat up properly.

"I've done a full day's work today. No knocking off at 3.15 like some people."

"I have a lot of marking to do," defended Scott. "And besides, you don't have to deal with wild kids all day. You know, one of them this morning thought it would be hilarious to take other people out with his hockey stick. Blood all over the place!" Becker grimaced. "You work with rational adults." Becker let out a hollow laugh. "What?"

"Rational?! Apparently, they play hoopla with the spare tyres." Scott's eyes widened. "I heard some of them planning a rematch today!"

"Well, if they're odd, you'll fit in." Becker was silent. "What did you say?" Scott sighed, used to Becker coming out with the oddest comments when put under pressure to speak. It wasn't his fault, Scott knew; it was a case of finding something to fill the silence.

"I compared myself to a log." Scott rolled to his eyes. "To be fair, I said I wasn't a log. But... I don't think even this place is quite on my wavelength."

"No-one is on your wavelength," asserted Scott. "Come on. Let's have dinner."

That evening, Banks rang Lyons. He reached the answer phone, sighing as the pre-recorded message rambled away until the tell-tale beep.

"Lyons. I've had a brilliant idea, but I need you to bring in a few things, if you have them. Do you still have...?" And thus he rattled away through a list which most people would think constituted as more than a few.

Lyons returned a couple of hours later, after taking his wife out for a meal to celebrate the child that would soon be with them. One of the first things he did was checked the answer and as soon as Banks started speaking, the soldier grabbed a pad and pen to note down all the objects required. Just as it was finishing, his wife came up behind him and scanned the list in curiosity. She frowned.

"What do you need all that for?" She read a little deeper. "Why on Earth does he think you'll have that stuff?!" Lyons looked over the list that he had just written down.

"I don't know. To either of those questions. I hope he's asked a few more of the lads, 'cos he won't get much of it from me." He sighed. "Sounds like he has a specific plan though."

"A plan? Honey, be careful. It looks like he's trying to drag you into something."

"Oh, he's definitely trying to pull me into something," replied Lyons. He turned to his wife and kiss her on the forehead. "But don't worry. He does have a brain. He's just a bit... rash... sometimes."

His wife shook her head disapprovingly, but remained silent. She'd only met Banks twice at security social gatherings and both times, he'd been drinking, which didn't give her the best impression, but Lyons assured her that he was happy to place his life in his hands, so there must be something responsible about him. But from that list...

"What makes him think any of the lads would have that sort of stuff though?"

"A bunch of ex-soldiers?" he laughed. "You can count on it. Hang on. Can I ask a favour?"

The next day, Becker came in before any of the other soldiers of the day shift. This wasn't just to set an example, but also because he didn't like the fact that his flatmate was out of the house before him, leaving him with morning breakfast TV. He'd rather be up and about.

He headed straight for his office, where he still had half of yesterday's pile of paperwork outstanding. He reached his door and noticed the pile of papers on the table next to the door. It was marked 'FOR CAPTAIN' and was about an inch thick.

Glancing over the first page, Becker realised these were the reports and statements about yesterday's adventure. Flicking through, he found that EVERYONE had made a report. The inventory guys, the soldiers who actually attended the scene, the mechanics, Connor (though it was very short), Abby, Cutter (though it used several words Becker didn't understand) and even Dr Page.

Why had it all come to him? He was wondering this when someone suddenly bumped into his shoulder, sending the pile of papers everywhere.

"Sorry!" exclaimed Banks, who looking like he was caught in the headlights. "Didn't see you there. Erm... you're in early?"

"Yes," replied Becker, slightly confused by the bold Sergeant's nervous approach. "Just as well by the look of it... Sergeant?"

"Yes?" There was a pause. "... Sir."

"Why do I have everyone's paperwork? I mean, including the scientists. Surely they have their own person to catalogue it etcetera."

"Oh no. No, the point is, you, as the Head of Security and general know-it-all about safety, should look through it to spot ways things could be improved and send suggestions to Cutter and Lester. And if you have to look through it, you may as well organise it too. Time saving."

"For everyone but me?"

"Well, this is your equivalent to the scientists research I think." Becker sighed; at least he couldn't muck anything up behind a desk he thought.

"If I make any suggestion for improvements, will they be listened to at all?"

Banks laughed. "No!"

"Then..."

"'Cos you're meant to be in charge of the civilians in the field. Government policy. It's just that in this case, it's the civilians who know more about what to do, so we follow them instead. It's a bit of a paradox, though all official."

"Right... well, I think I know where I'll be for the rest of the day then." The Captain glanced at the office and grimaced. Banks gave a weak smile back and rushed off, before Becker realised he hadn't helped pick up the sheets. Sighing, he gathered the together and took them into his office.

Banks, meanwhile, scurried over to Lyons, who looked at his expectantly.

"We've been beaten to it," he growled, annoyed. "What's more, with the amount of work Jenny's managed to palm off onto him, he'll be there all day. Now what?"

Lyons stood thinking, as his Sergeant fiddled and kept glancing impatiently at the office. One the idea had entered his head last night, he'd been eager to make it happen and now the delay was irritating him to the maximum degree.

"We get him out of his office," said Lyons eventually.

"Brilliant. We could set the anomaly alarm off! That'll bring him out and he'll..."

"No," interrupted Lyons, shaking his head at the brash nature of his Sergeant; subtly had never been one of his special skills. "That'll have the whole ARC up and shoving about and I don't think Lester or Cutter would be especially pleased. What we need is a more... focussed distraction." There was a pause as both men started to think again. Suddenly, Lyons clicked his fingers, a smile forming on his face. "Maybe... maybe we could try this..."

Lester was typing up a report on the state of the ARC finances, trying desperately to justify Cutter's request for five hundred clothes pegs, when Lyons knocked lightly on his door frame. The civil servant looked up, frowning as he saw who is was. Surely they hadn't found a problem with this Captain already!

The soldier slipped in and stood awkwardly in front of Lester, a look of extreme concentration upon his face.

"Well?" asked Lester impatiently.

"It's the Captain," blurted Lyons hurriedly, then drew himself up that little bit further to slow his pace. "There's been a bit of an issue."

"Of course there has," sighed Lester, moving his keyboard to one side. "What's happened?" There was a flicker of various emotions across his face before Lyons proceeded.

"Well... It involves Connor's training programme..."

"Connor has a training programme? Since when, might I ask?" Lyons held back a smile. It was well known that the security had been running what Cutter termed 'their own shift', making decisions that they shouldn't really, but there hadn't been any harm done and there was no-one to spare to oversee everything they did all the time. Thus, the little white lie was easily concealed.

"We decided to give him a bit of arms training about a month ago now... maybe two. Well, he should at least be allowed to use a tranquiliser in the field, we thought, so... but anyway, that's beside the point. Becker... Captain Becker has stopped the training, saying that he shouldn't be allowed out in the field."

"Becker says he, as Captain, has said he shouldn't be allowed out in the field?" asked Lester, thoroughly confused.

"Yes sir."

"But he's meant to be leading you lot!"

"No sir. Not Becker, Connor."

"What?"

"Becker thinks Connor shouldn't be allowed out in the field. Says if he sees him out there again, he'll arrested him... and possibly steal his skateboard." Lester shook his head wearily. "Sir?"

"Surely everyone made it pretty clear Connor is a liability, but an essential one out there, chasing dinosaurs. I believe we tried to fire him before and that failed rather dramatically."

"Yes sir. But Becker demanded that Connor should have a H22."

"The civilian disclaimer form. Hasn't he already got one? I remember him trying to fill it out. The only person ever to put down 'gaming' as a specialised skill on it." Lyons frowned. "He argued it showed he had weapons training... and now you're giving this man actually weapons training?"

"It would be safer." Lester shrugged, not willing to get into the debate about who for – the scientists or the dinosaurs? "But this form... we lost our copy." Lester sighed. "Well, we're not exactly trained as secretaries, sir, and it's harder than it looks."

"You want me to show him my copy."

"No sir. We want you to show Becker your copy."

"I meant Becker!" snapped Lester, frustrated by the circles currently being talked in. "Look, send Becker up here as soon as he's free as I'll dig out my copy. Is that alright sir?"

"Yes sir. Perfect sir."

As the soldier left, Lester rolled his eyes. Was he the only person capable of living harmoniously in this place?

Lyons entered the parade room and gave a small nod to Banks, who walked as slowly as he could out. It was like an undercover operation, even if a very silly one. Lyons breathed in and tapped on the door.

"Come in." The response was muffled through the wood, but Lyons straightened and entered smartly, not closing the door behind him. Becker, surrounded by piles of paper, looked up from his computer. Lyons could make out a slight reddening around his eyes where he had been staring at the screen too long.

A twinge of sympathy passed over Lyons face; he knew that half this stuff should be done by Jenny, but she was using the opportunity of a naive Captain who probably won't be around long to know better. Banks had apparently covered her earlier. Well, he was about to be given a break.

"Lester wanted to see you," he said. "As soon as you're free."

"Did he say what it was about?" Lyons shook his head and he put on a thoughtful face.

"Couldn't possibly say. Could be Cutter's come up with something and that... that could be anything." A little bit of a truth always made the lie more plausible, Lyons knew, and so he wasn't surprised when Becker minimised a few screens and grabbed his jacket.

"Well, it'll be nice to be out of here."

"Yes sir," replied Lyons, carefully schooling his face. "Absolutely."

Becker looked up sharply and for a second Lyons worried that he'd been seen through, but then the Captain shook his head and made his way out the office door. The soldier exited first and went off to Banks who was rather unsubtly peeking through the door to the fire range.

As Becker set off to Lester's office, Banks opened the door to let a group of five soldiers, all armed with heaps and material, in and lead them across to Becker's office.

The walk to Lester's office was uneventful, always Becker was aware he had to keep his wits about him as Connor went streaming past, shouting a word of warning, on his skateboard. Becker smiled at the eccentricity of the situation. Mad scientists.

Upon reaching Lester's office, his secretary looked up and smile pleasantly.

"Lester said you were coming up. You can go on in." Becker nodded his thanks, slightly reassured by the expectation. He couldn't deny he was a little perplexed at Lyons reaction to him earlier; it was almost as if he was being so straight as to not laugh.

Becker entered Lester's office from where the civil servant on the phone. He looked up and gestured for Becker to wait as he continued to listen to whatever the person on the other end was saying. Becker stood to attention for a full five minutes before the phone call ended and Lester sighed as he put the phone down.

"That was the Minister. Apparently, we need a team training day like every other Government organisation. As if we don't go running around cold, dark, damp woods enough!" Lester shuffled some papers and pulled out a sheet and handed it to Becker. "Well, here it is."

Becker scanned down the page and realised he'd been handed a form that was already filled in. He was pretty sure that wasn't the point of most forms and frowned. Lester went back to organising papers.

"Erm... thank you, sir." He paused as he tried to pull out the information on the sheet. "What is it?"

"It's Connor's H22 form. I heard you wanted to see it." Becker blinked a couple of times.

"I hadn't... Do I need to see it, sir? Am I suppose to check them?" Lester looked up, a confused by the Captain's expression. He rested his hands on the desk, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"I was told you demanded it off him earlier." Becker looked up, surprise plastered all over his face. "When you found him in the firing range. I can't blame you. Connor with a gun is enough to scare anyone." There was a pause. "Is there something wrong?"

"I haven't seen Connor today apart from he going past me on my way here," stated the Captain. He was looked down at the sheet again, unsure about what to make of the entire situation.

Lester stood up, pulling on his suit jacket. Obviously something was going on and in this place it could be anything from mixed communications to the clones walking about the place.

"Lyons seemed pretty adamant earlier. Let's go see what's happening." Becker blinked again as Lester strode out his office before hurriedly following him.

Cutter looked up at the sound of Lester's voice echoing around the corridor outside, expecting the man to walk through his door any second; normally, the professor was the first point of call for any of Lester's enquires. He was therefore intrigued when he saw Lester striding past the entry, with the new Captain Becker in pursuit, looking a little confused.

Putting down his metre stick from where he was measuring out his model, he hurried out after the disappearing suit.

"What's going on?" he cried after the pair.

"Connor has had an argument with Becker," replied Lester, continuing on.

"What?!" exclaimed Connor, emerging from a lab. "I haven't been anywhere near him today."

"I haven't spoken to him!" Becker defended himself, desperate not to get caught up in something that wasn't of his doing; as if it wasn't hard enough to keep a job as it was.

"Which is precisely why I want to know what's going on," responded Lester. "If we've been invaded by clones, I want to know about it."

"Clones?" questioned Abby, who had run out after Connor. "What on Earth...?" She looked to Cutter, who shrugged.

Becker, meanwhile, was finding the whole experience rather bewildering. There was clearly some miscommunication somewhere, or a crossing of wires, but this was viewed as something which could be potentially... ridiculous.

"Have you dealt with clones before?" he asked Cutter, who had fallen into step with him.

"No, I think that's Lester exaggerating. I mean, a clone of a human... that's out of sci-fi," he scoffed, before pausing. "Having said that... so are time-travelling dinosaurs."

Upon reaching the office, the parade room was deserted, which Lester knew was usual for this time of day. He glanced around, then made his way over to Becker's office in the hope that something in there would tell him what was happening; if Becker happened to be in there as well, the civil servant and Cutter needed to have words.

Reaching for the handle, Lester eased open the door wearily. He pushed open the door and...

There were several clicks of cameras, but that wasn't what got the group's attention. In fact, the four men present tried desperately to make sure nothing got their attention; none of them knew where to look. Abby gazed around the office awkwardly, before deciding that neither did she.

Every spare inch of wall was covered in pictures of women in very... revealing positions. There were male magazines strewn across every surface, Becker's pile of work completely buried beneath a stack of lazily spread cut-outs from various page threes in newspapers Becker didn't normally glance at.

He sank to a crouch, mouth hanging slightly open. This was possibly the most embarrassing thing that could happen at the start of a new job. Next to him, Cutter was trying to cover his sniggers, the humour of the situation starting to get to him. Connor's eyes were wide open, but they kept flitting around, preventing them from focussing on... anything. Abby wandered a little further in, just taking in the amount of stuff that was coating everything; she stopped when she saw the display on Becker's computer screen, before shuddering and backing away.

Lester slowly turned to Becker, then realised the man was in a start of shock three feet below his usual head height.

"I know we may have implied make yourself at home, but I do expect certain hobbies to be kept at home." Becker straightened up as the silence was broken, but couldn't even formulate any words so settled on shaking his head in denial.

"I think..." mused Cutter, "...that your men have been having some fun."

"So long as that's all they've been having!" retorted Lester. "It's an eye-opener to the type of men we employ."

"Young men, ex-soldiers nearly to a man." Cutter shrugged. "Well, what would you expect?"

At that second, all five turned as Banks entered the room, a broad grin replaced by an awkward gulp as he saw exactly who had entered Becker's office. It took a second for his brain to kick in before he decided denial was the best option. He hastily glanced around.

"Gosh," he said, fairly woodenly. "What has happened here?"

"I think you know," replied Cutter and Banks sighed, knowing that his weak defence had failed. "Who was it that brought Becker to Lester?"

"Lyons," said Lester. "And I thought he was fairly sensible. See you've corrupted him. Ah, here's the culprit." Lyons had just walked in, a bit more cautiously, hearing the extra voices and knowing this traced back to him. There was no longer a new Captain to convince to keep it quiet.

"Sir..." he started before Banks cut him off.

"It was just a joke." There was a collective sigh of frustration and a couple of sniggers from Connor and Cutter, who possessed the sense of humour. Abby shook her head and grabbed Connor arms, pulling him out of the room before he got any ideas about her home. Cutter coughed once and made his excuses and left as well, realising that whatever had happened, no clones were involved.

"Well, Becker, I believe discipline is over to you," said Lester and straightened his jacket. He lifted his head to a decent posture and strode out, acting every inch the gentlemen. Banks and Lyons watched him go before turning back to Becker, who had his arms folded.

"Sorry," mumbled Lyons and Banks nodded his agreement. Becker was silent for another few seconds, letting them stew for a bit before taking a deep breath in.

"Clear it up," he ordered. "I don't even want to know it happened." He unfolded his arms and marched past them, intent on going to firing range to de-stress.

The two men watched him go, then looked at each other.

"Well, he could've been angrier," stated Lyons.

"Oh he will be," said Banks. Lyons frowned as Banks smiled, fishing out a couple of cameras that had been attached to the door, the shutters clicking on its opening. "Who wants to develop these?"

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