Hello. A bit more action and something which makes me (at least) go 'Poor Becker!' ;-) But then I say Poor Becker over most things which happen to him.

So, seeing as the chapter is here, there's little else for me to say but Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval. Sorry.

Nothing else happened that day and Becker was very relieved at that fact. He managed to avoid Banks, Lyons and practically everyone else. In his mind, how he reacted was playing over and over again, worrying that his boss thought his eyes lingered slightly too long on... everything that was visible.

Eventually, a soldier approach him as he was loading and pointed awkwardly to the clock, obviously wary of the fact the Captain wasn't in the best mood. Fortunately for the man, Becker just sighed and put the gun down, unclipping the ammo. It felt good to be out of the office, which was at least something which Banks and Lyons had achieved.

He slipped through to the locker rooms, planning on grabbing his keys and shoes before returning home. He turned to face Lyons who was standing awkwardly behind him. The soldier opened his mouth, but Becker waved him aside.

"If you're going to apologise again, you've said it." Lyons looked taken aback by this response, but backed down, allowing the Captain to pass. He was still watching him exit when Banks came in.

The Sergeant took one look at the solitary man and smiled knowingly. Lyons had always had a conscience and was properly fearing that this little prank had hurt the Captain's feelings. Sure enough, the soldier turned to his Sergeant with a rather pained look on his face.

"I don't think he found it funny," he stated. Banks sighed and placed a hand on Banks' shoulder, but the other man continued. "No, he's not angry or wound up or crying in a corner, but he's reticent and I, for one, don't like to be the cause of it. No more jokes."

"He's a soldier, Lyons! If he can't take a joke, he's got one hell of a struggle to face." Banks sighed again. "Look, we'll leave off for a couple of days. Let him settled a bit more. Maybe it was a little early to be pranking him, but honestly, considering how long other Captains have lasted, I don't want to miss the opportunity."

Lyons stepped back and mock surrendered. He knew that this was the best he was going to get out of his Sergeant for now and that he should be grateful for the reprieve. He turned and pick up his kick bag to leave.

"Just keep thinking of ideas," Banks called after him. Lyons didn't say goodbye.

The next day was still a little jointed and Becker managed to busy himself through various piles of paperwork and store checks. It was peaceful and as he went home, he was ready for a relaxing evening in front of the TV with a spaghetti Bolognese.

He drew up to his house and immediately saw an extra car waiting outside. His stomach starting doing flips and he contemplated turning around and heading back to work; after all, it was a job which had genuine emergencies at odd times.

His sharp eyes caught the curtain twitch in the bottom sitting room window and he knew he'd been spotted. He really wished he could fit a silencer to his car, but he doubted that would help. Taking a deep breath in, he climbed out of his car as casually as he could, slowly locking it behind him. He carefully walked up the path to the door and raised his hand to put the key in.

Scott opened the door before Becker had a chance to unlock. The flatmate stepped outside, ushering Becker further away from his own home.

"Your..." Scott started, but Becker just nodded hurriedly, waving a hand towards the extra car. Scott bit his lip. "I didn't know they were coming, I swear. Just turned up, out the blue, no voice messages or anything and..."

"HILARY!" The deep, booming voice seemed to echo about the street stopping Scott in his tracks and making Becker grimaced.

"He's not in a good mood, is he."

"When's he ever?"

"When he's talking about Lucas." Scott was silent.

"HILARY!" came the voice again, this time closer. Becker grabbed Scott's arm and tugged him inside, closing the door behind him. He was determined the neighbours shouldn't hear the disruption to his home; they would, but he liked to think if the door was closed, they wouldn't comment.

A man came striding into the corridor with all the authority of someone who owned the place. It was a minor technicality that he didn't. He was a broad shoulder man, dark hair, going grey, neatly cut so the balding around the edges of the forehead was just covered by hair. He stood a good couple of inches over Becker, just enough to be noticeable and his skin was slightly brown from outdoor activity, a few creases easing into place.

He was a soldier, an occupation immediately apparent from the way the man stood. Becker gulped as he was inspected briskly. The man sighed heavily.

"Well," he said, almost shouting as if he could go no quieter. "I hope this place is relaxed on its image. Come on, Hilary, those clothes looks as if you've slept in a hedge backwards in them."

"I don't think..." Becker began, but got no further.

"Straighten that... is that a black T-shirt?! WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU DOING IN A BLACK T-SHIRT MAN!" Becker gulped. "For goodness' sake, before you lose yet another job, pull your act together. Whoever heard of a Captain in a T-shirt on duty. Uniform, Hilary, uniform! Makes me wonder if you ever learnt anything I told you!"

"This is..."

"You're going to lose another job! Why can't you get anything right?!"

The man strode back into the living room, sighing and muttering under his breath. A slight woman appeared from behind him, a thin smile on his face.

"Hello Hilary. Good day?"

"It was fine, Mother," Becker automatically replied. "And now it's... brilliant." Becker's mother rolled her eyes at obvious lie. She sometimes wished her husband would let up on her younger son a bit, but she had no intention of broaching the subject, even if she could get a word in edgeways.

"HILARY!" came the call from the living room and Becker slipped past his mother to see his father settling down on his sofa. So it wasn't a flying visit. "Well, aren't you going to offer your mother and I a cup of tea or something? Honestly, do you have to be told to do everything? Sheer incompetence. How do you think you'll get a job with that?!"

"I have a job currently, Father," Becker reminded him in a smooth tone.

"On a temporary contract," his father scoffed. "So they can chuck you on the rubbish heap extra quickly this time. You should have stayed in the Army, man. Risen in rank a little, like Lucas." Becker winced at the mention of his brother, Lucas, who had just become a Lieutenant Colonel , a tantalising one rank below their father, the Colonel. The fact he was six years older than Becker probably made a difference. "Where's that cup of tea, Hilary?"

Becker sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Six hours later, after hearing all about Lucas' latest achievements in the Army, how he was adapting to his new rank, the benefits of an army career, the current economic climate making it hard to get a job unless you had brains and the exploits of the neighbour's cat the previous night (this was news from his mother), Captain Becker settled down in his bed. His parents were in the spare room, the snoring resonating with the partition wall.

Becker pulled the duvet up high and tried not dwell on all the comments and insults he had been subjected to that evening. Scott had excused himself half an hour after Becker got in, sighting urgent marking to do. He left out of sheer embarrassment at hearing the comments, which Becker knew he could hear in his room anyway.

Both flatmates went without an evening meal that night, the parents having already eaten. Becker sighed; where was an anomaly alert when you needed one.

Almost as soon as the thought came into his head, his phone went off. Becker groaned as he pulled himself up to check his phone. The screen was bright and he blinked several times before actually seeing the screen.

'ANOMALY ALERT' it said, followed by a set of co-ordinates. Becker slumped down in his pillow before shifting his legs across to hoist himself up. He hurriedly pulled on his still-warm clothes and grabbed his kit.

Out on the landing, he almost walked into his father.

"Where on Earth are you going at this time of night?"

"Work emergency," muttered Becker, slipping past the bulk of a man. His father grabbed at his arm and Becker rolled his eyes as he turned. "You want me to keep this job, I need to go." The other man snorted, but released Becker without further protest and the Captain was able to get on his way.

"Well, this isn't the farm you picked out half an hour ago," said Cutter, sitting behind the wheel of the car, as he surveyed the industrial estate they'd just driven in to.

"Yeah well, tricky things, maps. All lines and greens and squares," replied Connor, turning the sheet of map paper upside down. Again. "I'm pretty sure that we're not far off."

"Pretty sure?" asked Cutter, sceptically. There was a honk behind them. "Look, for Heavens' sake, the security detail are queuing up behind us and for every second we waste here, we aren't protecting people. Where are we?"

Connor crumpled the map and then, stretched it out as flat as he possibly could on the dashboard, scanning over the area as fast as he could. He then turned the map over again. Abby pulled herself up so she could take a better look by the dim car light.

"There!" Connor suddenly announced.

"Connor, that's a housing estate," Abby stated. "We're not there. Look, give me the map." She reached forward to grab it. Connor snatched the paper away from her reach.

"I'm sorting it..."

"Connor, give her the map," ordered Cutter impatiently. Connor sighed, but thrust the map back to Abby, who, along with Sarah, immediately set to work in sorting out their position based on previous and current observations.

"It's not my fault..."

"You reformatted the all SatNavs," Cutter reminded the young scientist. Connor just sniffed and stared into the dark through the window.

Becker had a little trouble finding the place after he found that his SatNav seemed to be speaking an alien language. He frowned, wondering when anyone had had access to it. Still, he was the first person to arrive at the scene, to his surprise.

He pulled out the gun which he kept in his car, on Lester's advice and his own mental ease. Currently, he was glad of the solid, cold metal in his hands as he scanned around the stables, a few horses whinnying slightly. Something had disturbed him.

At least the location of the anomaly was fairly obvious. It gleamed in the middle of the yard. He was finding it difficult to believe that the occupants of the house a few buildings away were still asleep, but the lights were still off and there were no people milling around. Maybe it was already too late.

Becker slung the thought from his head. It was no good as to speculating what might have happened; he needed to focus on what he could do now. He glanced over to the house door. It was shut, which was a good sign as it was. Best not wake them yet. There was no point in rousing people just to have to protect them on his own.

A horse neighed loudly and there were a couple of bangs. The sound echoed in the silence and it was difficult to pick up where the sound had come from. Becker immediately lifted his gun and started to stride very carefully and quietly towards the end stable where he thought the noise had originated. He kept his eyes moving, constantly alert for the tell-tale signs of a creature.

He reached the stable door and gingerly reached out a hand. In one move, he swung the door open and pressed himself to one side, expecting something to come leaping out.

Nothing happened.

Becker waited another thirty seconds before he eased around the corner. The stable was deserted, no sign of the even the horse which had apparently made the cries. Becker glanced around, the moonlight barely reaching the corners of the room. Shadowing danced and played upon his eye before he gave up and reached to his pocket for a thin torch; it wasn't much, but it was enough.

Around him, he saw a pile of straw and tackle hung up. There was never any horse in here, just a store room within which nothing had been touched in a while. The door banged behind him. Becker swore in his head. It was the wrong stable.

Just then, there was a snarl and a bang which vibrated through the wall. This time Becker was sure; there was something in the stable next door. The snarls continued and became less contained. Becker stepped slowly back towards the door. A hinge squeaked from next door and Becker moved with a greater urgency. Whatever happened, the creature must remain close.

The Captain reached his hand out to the door knob and jerked it open. The creature snapped around at the movement and Becker recoiled instinctively. It was a two legged dinosaur, about his height so he could see the sharp, pointed teeth glistening with saliva and blood.

The heart in Becker spared a thought for the poor horse, but his mind was rushing with options. The first came naturally. He pulled the trigger, just as his foot went through the rotten trapdoor behind him.

Professor Cutter drew up in front of the anomaly, just far enough away for none of the electronics and metal to be affected by the pulsing star. The courtyard was empty other than a solitary black car, which Cutter recognised as Becker's. Well, at least one person had got to the scene.

Everybody hurried out of their respective vehicles as quickly as they could and Banks started to set up a perimeter around the anomaly. Cutter's attention soon taken by some scuff marks clearly visible under his feet.

"Well, something's got out. Sergeant, get your men to search the area. Most likely option is that it's gone into one of the surrounding field to forage and..."

"Excuse me," came a thin voice. The Professor turned to see a small, middle-aged woman standing in the middle of the door to the house, dressed in a pale blue dressing gown which she was hastily tying around her. "What's happening?"

"Err..." Cutter glanced around for Jenny, but couldn't see her straight away. Luckily, she spoke again before the pause became obvious.

"I heard a gunshot," she informed him nervously. "And I looked out and I saw this in the yard... well..." She stared at the anomaly, but Cutter's interest was taken by her initial statement.

"You heard a gunshot? When?"

"Two minutes ago, maximum. I'm sorry..."

"I do apologise, but I will have to hand you over to my colleague here..." the Professor reached out behind him and grabbed the first arm he encountered, dragging the unfortunate sole, Connor, forward "... who answer all questions for you."

The scientist hurried away, desperately searching for Banks to inform him of the latest developments. If Becker had fired, and Cutter felt the Captain was not the sort of person to fire on impulse, he had found the dinosaur and could very well be in serious danger.

Connor looked at the woman, who was worriedly picking at her dressing gown tie. He plastered what he hoped was a warming smile on his face and stepped forward.

"Tell me, have you ever seen Men in Black?" he began.

"If Becker has fired, he surely must be roaming around after this dinosaur," Banks said. "You say it's likely it'll gone to the fields."

"It can't like being surrounded by so many enclosed buildings. It's not its natural habitat," Cutter theorised.

"So now what?" asked Abby. Cutter thought for a second.

"Banks, you have most men. Leave a couple with Connor at the anomaly and the rest can search the field with us." There was a neigh. "Abby, you and Sarah take the stables. Calm the horses, the last thing we need is them to attract the attention of whatever it is."

"Any ideas about that?" she questioned.

"Bipedal, medium height by the size of the footprints. It could be dangerous, especially as it's out of its comfort zone, so be careful, though I imagine that it just wants to get home. Got it?" The group nodded their understanding and departed to set up.

Abby grabbed Sarah and started at one end of the stables. In the first stables, the horse was sweating profusely, but the comforting hand of a human and a few soft words made it settle back again.

"You are pretty good with animals," Sarah marvelled.

"You just have to think logically. They don't act irrationally, just out of fear, hunger or...well... love. Far simpler than humans." Sarah stepped aside as Abby opened the next stable and continued her work.

Becker's head ached. It took a moment for him to realise where he was and remember what was had been trying to do. He'd fired at a dinosaur. Had he hit? He didn't know. The world had gone toppling backwards by then.

A faint breeze rustled his hair.

Something underneath his foot had given way, with a loud crack, he recalled. Rotten wood. He should've checked his footing, but he guessed a dinosaur was a reasonable distraction.

The breeze moved his hair again, this time more strongly.

So he'd fallen backwards, down whatever hole the wood was covering and...

Becker stopped his thoughts in their tracks.

He'd fallen down a hole, of that he was sure.

...

So where was the breeze coming from?

He cracked open his eyes and saw a vague movement in the dark. The dinosaur was staring at him, occasionally darting forward and back again, as if it was still slightly nervous. Well, the shot had achieve something if nothing else; it had scared the dinosaur, even if it hadn't stopped it mid-leap from colliding into Becker and following him down the hole.

Becker very slowly propped himself upright. He reached for his gun, but noticed it was just outside his reach. The dinosaur watched him warily. If he could just stretch...

In a flash, something in the dinosaur's head clicked. If realised that the man was unarmed and unprotected and roared in anger, nipping forward, teeth bared. Becker slid back as fast as he could, but fell flat on his back, arms beneath him.

The dinosaur approached snarling and opened it mouth to claim its second kill of the night.

*Gasp* Cliff-hanger! Oh, I do like them. =-)