Disclaimer: Primeval does not belong to me, this is fan fiction, not for profit.
Any references to people, places, businesses etc is entirely fictitious.
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Lester began the long drive to the estate in a bad mood.
After all that had happened in the past several days, and especially after all that had happened today, to come home and be told by one's own mother that you were an idiot just seemed to be too much. He floored the accelerator of the jaguar, but whether he was in a hurry to get home or just in a hurry to get away from London, even James Lester couldn't have told you.
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Lester paused to flash his security badge at the entrance gate monitor. He drove down the long driveway, parking the jaguar and moving up the entry steps to the front door. He was still fumbling with his keys when the door swung open.
"Oh, good… you're here," said Vivian as she took the keys out of his hand "I've got to go… appointment… check on the children, won't you now."
Lester stood on the front steps to their home with his mouth gaping wide open, in a manner not unlike the way the house door gaped open and vacant. He watched his wife climb into the jaguar and drive away into the night.
How on earth, he wondered, was he supposed to fix things with Vivian if they didn't even talk? He shook his head tiredly and entered their home.
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Vivian drove the car through the gate, then carefully maneuvered a three point turn and pulled back into the driveway. She turned the engine off and opened the window. Fumbling in her purse, she withdrew a small glass and metal device. Holding it out the window, she pushed a few buttons.
In front of the car, the air shimmered, fractured and an anomaly opened. Vivian turned the car on and drove through.
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Lester trudged upstairs slowly.
He looked in the first bedroom, Gail was snuggled on her side, sound asleep. In the second bedroom, he stopped to pick up his son's blanket off the floor. The boy murmured something in his sleep, and rolled over while Lester tucked him in, but didn't wake. Lester looked in the third bedroom. With some surprise, he noted the large bunched up lump of bedclothes. Wondering what his youngest daughter had in her bed now, he stepped closer. Sid and Nancy, dressed in tiny outfits complete with night caps tied on their heads, were snuggled on either side of his youngest daughter.
For the first time in this long, horrible day, Lester smiled.
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It was daylight, midmorning from the looks of things thought Vivian as she drove back down the long driveway to the family home. She parked the car and climbed up the steps wearily, she opened the door with her keys. Really she thought, a hundred years or more now and no one has had the locks changed?
She walked down the hallway to the kitchen, heels announcing her presence with every staccato step. She greeted the woman standing by the sink.
"Hello Mum."
The woman slowly turned to face her, sun glinting through the window above the sink, highlighting the steely gray mixed with the white of her hair. She was frowning.
"Vivian," said her mother "you're an idiot. You can't fix anything from here. Go home."
"But, but…" Vivian Lester looked around the kitchen she had grown up in…
"Go to your home," said her mother, her face softening a little, "in your time, back then."
"They've been gone eleven days!" Vivian blurted out "they should have been back by now."
"What on earth," began her mother in confusion, but then she stopped her eyes lighting up with realization. "Are you talking about Abby and Connor?"
"Yes, of course," exclaimed Vivian.
"Well, what on earth makes you think they should be back after only eleven days?" asked her mother. "You know the history… it was much longer than that."
Vivian did remember her history lessons, once it had been three terrifying days in the cretaceous for Abby and Connor. Now though it seemed it was going to be much longer. She nodded and turned to go. Her mother called after her once more.
"Don't forget, Practical Temporal Theory," she said "the first theorem."
Yeah, thought Vivian ruefully. Rule number one - if you go back in time, something will change.
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Lester woke to hear rustling. The sound was coming from the large walk in closet at the far end of the bedroom. The light shone through a crack between the edge of the door and the jamb. He heard a small thump. A high heeled shoe hit the floor, landing in the narrow space.
"Vivian," he asked "is that you?"
The space between the edge of the door and the jamb widened. More light poured into the room. His wife's face appeared, long brown hair curling and cascading over her shoulder.
"Sorry," she whispered "I was trying not to wake you."
"Really, I'm rather glad you did," replied Lester. He sat up in the bed. "We should talk."
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Downstairs in the kitchen, Lester and his wife puttered at making a cup of tea. A little honey, a little cream… soon they were both sipping a soothing warm beverage in a companionable silence. Lester stirred his tea once more, watching the swirling drink, trying to think of the best way to begin this. They both spoke at once.
"I'm sorry, I should have told you more," Vivian started.
"I'm sorry I raised my voice," began Lester.
They both smiled, tiny, quivering little smiles, but smiles none the less. Lester reached his hand out across the table to clasp his wife's slender fingers.
"Why don't you begin," he said.
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"Connor and Abby will be back," she said in a rush "but it might take a while."
"How long?"
"I don't know," she replied "something changed."
"I thought that's what you were here for…" Lester said slowly "to change something… yes?"
"Yes," she agreed, "but I wasn't supposed to change that."
He remembered what she had told him when they first met. What was it, fourteen or fifteen years ago now?
"I thought," he said carefully "that we were going to change the world. Change it for the better."
"We are," she said softly.
"And how is this better?" he asked sarcastically. "You told me Abby and Connor would be stuck in the cretaceous for three days, but that we would rescue them. You never said anything about Danny."
She looked at him with her big brown eyes, bottom lip quivering. "James," she started…
"It's been eleven days now… we've sent four rescue attempts… they've all failed…" he continued bitterly, "do you know how many people we've lost?"
"James," she started again. But Lester interrupted angrily. He had lost his calm cool façade.
"The arrogance of you, or anyone really, coming back in time… to fix us… to change us… to suit your future," he raged "How dare you?"
"James," she cried "it's not like that."
"Why didn't you just write us a note on the cliffs of Dover, tell us what to do…" he continued heedlessly, "give us our marching orders…"
"What?" she asked in confusion.
"Do some of that timey-wimey stuff," he added, sarcastic again, waving his hands in the air, "you know… kill the villains grandfather before his parents were ever conceived or something like that…"
"It sounds like you've been watching some of Connor's science fiction telly," she said incredulously.
"Well, so what if I have," replied Lester. "The young man's been a flat mate for the past couple of months."
"James," she cried "that's fiction, not science!"
"Hmmph!" he snorted inelegantly, "There's science involved with time travel?"
"Of course there is," she shouted, finally having lost her patience, "My great-great grandfather wrote the book on it."
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They were both standing now, their teacups forgotten. They stared at each other incredulously.
"What do you mean?" Lester asked.
"Connor and Abby will be back," she said again. "Connor is going to write a book some day, explaining all … all… this… time travel."
"And Connor," asked Lester somewhat shakily "is your great- great grandfather?"
"Yes, he and Abby," began Vivian.
"No, no… don't tell me," said Lester waving his hand "spoilers you know."
Vivian Lester glared at her husband. "Don't mock me," she hissed. "Tell me, if you had seen the future spoiled, humanity destroyed, wouldn't you go back and try to change things?"
He looked at her, sighed. "Of course I would," he said "you know I would. Tell me," he paused "whatever it is… that you can tell me."
She narrowed her eyes and looked at him warily. Then she exhaled deeply. "All right then," she began "you already know about Helen Cutter… there are people who try to manipulate the time stream for their own purposes… have you met Philip Burton yet?"
Lester shook his head. No he didn't know anyone by that name, at least not yet.
"And did you ever really see the body of Stephen Hart?"
Lester's eyes widened.
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The next day, Lester called a moving and storage company.
Abby's pets had already been taken to the menagerie. Sarah had made sure the pets were taken care of when they first went missing. So, when the movers went to Abby's flat all they had to deal with was packing boxes and loading furniture. Then they picked up all of Connor's things from Lester's flat. The stuff was boxed up and safely stored away, for whenever they returned.
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The next week at work, when the minister called saying the ARC's work would be suspended, Lester handled it with his usual grace and acerbic charm.
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Two months later, when reports of a stegosaurus in the member's bar of the House of Commons hit the news, Lester merely smiled.
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When the minister called again, asking for him to come back, the ARC's work really should continue… in one form or another, Lester agreed on two conditions.
First, he wanted Becker back as head of security.
Second, the lockers of Abby Maitland, Connor Temple, and Danny Quinn must be packaged up and taken over to the new ARC.
The conditions were non-negotiable.
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And when Connor's mother stormed the new ARC, breaching all security checkpoints, Lester was the one to calm the intimidating little woman down.
He held her hand, patted it and promised, they'd be back… some day, Lester was sure of it.
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