Hello. New chapter again. Bit of action and the aftermath and something which makes me go 'ewwww' like a American teenager in a stereotypical teen film. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, esp. Bourne who I couldn't reply to. I quite like nice Scott. (If you don't know what I mean, please check out 'Say Something') ;-) In the meantime, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval. Shock horror.

Becker closed his eyes as he waited for the teeth to sink into his skull. He felt the wind whooshing about his ears and the sandpaper gravel underneath his finger tips as his senses heightened.

The subsequent shot almost burst his ears as a result. The creature roared and twisted in the air before crashing down onto his chest, pressing the air out of him.

Becker's eyes swam about in a colour world. He was vaguely away of voices surrounding him, but his mind was filled with the discomfort of what felt like half a house lying across his.

"His breaths are really shallow and quick."

"He's got a dinosaur on his chest, Abby. That's rather to be expected. Connor, Banks, help me get this creature off him."

Becker groaned as the creature was rolled onto the floor beside him, the release of pressure in his chest allowing him to take deep breaths in and out. Slowly, his vision returned to normal and he peered up to see Connor leaning over him.

"He's looking a little pasty," commented the young scientist.

"Again," said Cutter, clapping the grit off his hands, "he's had a dinosaur on his chest. For goodness' sake, Connor, let the man have some air."

Becker blinked a few times, before heaving himself upright, rubbing the back of his neck. There were a few twinges throughout his body, but his was relieved that nothing felt broken and there was no creeping damp feeling of gushing blood. Only he'd hope that if he was bleeding out all over the floor, the team may pay him more attention. As it was, Cutter and Abby were checking over the creature, giving it a far more thorough examination than they gave Becker, Banks was directing some soldiers from the barn door and Sarah and Connor were deep in conversation.

The Captain heaved himself to his feet and stared down at the creature which was lying next to him. Looking around further, he saw his gun lying a few feet away from his feet and, on impulse, he went to pick it up.

"What do you think you're doing?" cried Abby, suddenly. "You needn't shoot the poor thing, it's not doing any harm and the anomaly is still open, so..."

"I'm just picking it up," explained Becker bashfully, but he left the gun on the floor and went over to crouch by the creature's head. "What this one?"

"Eotyrannus," said Cutter when Abby didn't reply in confusion. "Early Cretaceous Period. Nifty little hunter, rather vicious." Becker nodded and surveyed the dinosaur up and down.

"Figured. You say the anomaly is still open?" Cutter nodded. "We'd best get it back through before that changes. How long do you think it'll be out for?"

"It had been running around, was slightly panicked, so its heart rate was up. And I didn't put that much in, I only had a small dose, so... soon," said Abby. "Come on, there must be some tarpaulin around; we'll lift it through. Simple."

Becker firmly believed he was the most relieved that getting the creature back through was as simple as Abby had said. By three o'clock, they were rolling the end of the creature's tail back through, after a lot of grunting and shoving from some of the soldiers. Abby seemed more interested in petting the silly thing, but soon they were all leaning against one of the cars.

"Right, well, I think that's all done. We can head home," Cutter announced.

"Do you know how long the anomaly will stay open for?" responded Becker. "I'll set up a perimeter..."

"Already taken care of, I think you'll find. Not all of us were rolling around under dinosaurs," sniggered Banks. Becker immediately felt a pang of embarrassment; this was not the way to make a good impression. "Still, I suppose it could've been worse."

"I could've been eaten?" guessed Becker, folding his arms.

"No. You could've been ripped apart. Can you imagine the mess that would've caused?" Banks sighed. "I, for one, would not be clearing that up. Right, well I'm off home." He looked at Becker. "So should you."

"But the equipment needs to go back and be..."

"Yeah, here's a hint. Leave it to the night shift. They don't particularly like day shifters hanging around all night. Makes 'em feel like you don't trust them; after all, they've got just as much experience as the rest of us. Well... most of us." The Sergeant strutted off, leaving the Captain feeling incredibly empty.

He didn't have long to wallow in this feeling though, as Cutter nudged his off the car door in a bid to return home. Becker eased himself off it, a pang of tiredness hitting him, along with the aches he'd picked up from the night's drama.

"You alright to drive home?" asked Abby. Becker just nodded. "Good," she accepted. "I'll probably see you later." The blond was just about to get into the car when she suddenly turned around. "Oh, by the way, we don't normally appear for work until about midday if we've pulled an all-nighter."

"Sun's not up yet," murmured Becker, but Abby was already closing the car door and was too busy to listen. Becker sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and wandered off in search of his own car, which, at some point, had been pushed out of the way in the ensuing chaos.

He returned home just as the sun was rising and crept as quietly as he could up to his room. His father wasn't there, much to his relief, but just as he opened his bedroom door, he felt a movement behind him. Scott was tying his dressing gown belt around his waist, blinking blurrily.

"What are you doing up?"

"Work," whispered Becker, edging his door open so it wouldn't squeak too much. The problem with having a soldier as a father, or at least with his father, was that any little noise would wake him. "Can't really explain."

"No, I bet you can't," groaned Scott. "Sorry I ditched you earlier." Becker turned at this and shook his head.

"No, it wasn't your fault. He's not your father. Heck, he's mine and I wanted to follow."

"It's just... awkward. Look, we'll chat about it later, but this can't continue. You're just going to have to save the planet, or something equally as amazingly heroic, so he stops pestering you." Becker turned back to his door and slipped through. Just before he closed it, he looked to Scott.

"I honestly don't think that would do it."

Becker turned up next morning at nine o'clock sharp. There were a couple of surprised faces, though the events of the night were only just starting to filter across to the day shift as they met the outgoing men in the locker room.

Becker's first job of the day was to go down to the loading bay and check over the previous day's equipment. The kit had all been tufted out of the SUVs, which had had a vague wash with a wet cloth, which still lay, disappointingly sodden upon the bonnet. The kit itself was in a heap on the floor, though it had been clearly checked over by the previous shift. Now though, the soldiers were buzzing over everything with the active knowledge of their duties.

Becker left and went to the Parade room, but found everyone there was busy in their own little worlds. There was a stirring to one side as a man rose.

"Beck... Captain?" Lyons placed his cleaning to one side. "I thought you were at the anomaly last night?"

"Yes." Becker felt uncomfortably as if he was being put on trial. "It appear..."

"What on Earth are you doing here already?" interrupted Lyons. "It's only just gone half nine; you're entitled to another three hours at least before you are meant to be in."

"Don't you want me here?" retorted Becker and instantly regretted the tired impatience he displayed; tiredness, after all, would be the issue here. He took a deep breath in. "I am here to work. And oversee the post anomaly routine."

"But you don't know the routine, so how can you... never mind," he trailed off as he saw the glimpse of doubt fly across the young Captain's face. 'Give the bloke a break' said his conscience. "Just... don't make your presence too well known. Sergeant hates people overworking..."

"It's my impression Banks hates people working," muttered Becker.

"... says people need to be fully awake during anomalies," concluded Lyons, not having Becker, who was thoroughly exhausted of being given advice, not that he'd dare say that at this point; that would be inviting an argument and the loss of this job. No, he put it down to being so tired and aching in various places. Especially. His shoulder.

He sighed and left Lyons without further comment, leaving the ex-soldier thoroughly bemused. Shrugging, he returned to his polishing as Becker made his way back to his office, where he was getting the distinct feeling that his only purpose in this place was to do the paperwork.

Lyons continued his various duties until he knocked off for lunch. Just as he settled down to his sandwiches, there was a thud beside him of someone sitting down heavily. He didn't look up.

"Afternoon Sarge." Banks rolled his shoulders and huffed. "Busy night?"

"You wouldn't believe it..."

"I chase dinosaurs."

"OK," concluded Banks. "You probably would." The Sergeant turned in his chair to face Lyons. "Guess which Captain managed to get trapped under a dinosaur."

"Beck..."

"Captain Becker, that's who!" continued Banks, talking over Lyons who took another bite of his sandwich. "I mean who gets stuck under a dinosaur!" Lyons chewed. "When he comes in..."

"He's in already," Lyons informed Banks around a mouthful of ham. Banks stopped and stared at him. "Came in at 9."

He did what?!" Banks rapidly turned red. Lyons shuffled uncomfortably. "He must have had about 3 hours sleep! The idiot! How does he expect to... No, no. He wants work. I'll give him work."

Lyons stifled a sigh. "I take it you have another prank."

"Yes, I... You don't sound too keen."

"He seemed very... distant today."

"And whose fault is that?" Lyons took the last bite and nodded thoughtfully. Banks stood sharply.

"I need to see Abby." Lyons gulped, but Banks had left before he could protest.

It started off as faint voices that penetrated his door. Becker looked up as the voices became louder, the devious hint of anger involved. The Captain stood, straightening his T-shirt, and strode over to the door. Upon opening, he found Banks towering over some younger man, who had his arms crossed upon a shovel. Neither looked especially happy. Banks was almost shouting, though this was nothing to write home about.

"... your duties. You're doing it until someone... newer turns up."

"But this is demeaning, not to mention dangerous! I don't know how to deal with the thing."

"What's happening?" demanded Becker, with as much authority as he could muster. The younger man looked at Captain with a glance of disdain, before realising that maybe, just maybe, he should at least straighten up at the sight of his leader.

"Jameson here is refusing to do his job."

"This isn't my job! My job is protecting the public, chasing dinosaurs, not clearing them out!"

"Clearing them out?" questioned Becker. He looked to Banks for an explanation and the Sergeant sighed and gestured for the man to follow him. Becker did so and was surprised to be led to the menagerie. It was area he'd had minimal contact with, being the home of dinosaur which were no longer a problem.

Banks tapped at a screen and Becker peered into the cell. Below lay a huge four-legged creature, which lazily cast an eye upwards to the men above. It was bulky, had a crest and thick legs. It didn't exactly look like the most agile creature ever. Becker looked at Banks puzzled.

"Security has to clear it out. It's just too dangerous for the normal staff in this section."

"Dangerous? That?" Becker studied the creature again, but, if he was being honest, he didn't know what he was looking for.

"Nearly took one of the cleaner's leg off. Ever since then, Lester decreed that we should go in. Just needs a sweep, and bit of a clean."

"And you don't just get it out of the cage first because..." There was a pause.

"It has to... be done every week," said Banks slowly, slightly as if he was speaking to an idiot. The Sergeant turned to Jameson. "Look, just clear it out. Barney's covering you. It's perfectly safe."

"You just said it was dangerous," said Jameson. Another pause.

"It's relatively safe; I've done it and I'm still alive. Look, you may have left the Army, but you still have to follow orders." Jameson looked to Becker pleadingly. "Don't look at him. I'm giving you the order." Becker prickled at the insinuation and turned slowly.

"And now I'm giving you the order too," he said. Jameson huffed and peered at the Captain over his broom.

"How can you order me to do it? You've never done it!" Jameson turned to Banks. "There. He's newer than I am."

Becker felt every eye in the room, and several outside, swivel around and pin him to the spot. Banks coughed awkwardly and turned back to Jameson, who was staring at Becker.

"He's the Captain. You're... just do it, will you?" Banks glanced at the Captain, slightly embarrassed, but quickly tried to glare at Jameson once more.

Becker felt a shiver of shame go up his spine, even though it really wasn't his fault. He was torn in two minds. Firstly, he should cement his authority, proving that he wasn't just an ordinary soldier, but alternatively, he also wanted to show that he did actually want to do ordinary soldier work, mainly because it involved something other than paperwork.

"Besides, he has less experience with the creatures and..."

"And maybe I should get some experience," interrupted Becker. There. Perfect solution. Override Banks to prove authority and muck in. Literally. Becker then realised that what he'd actually volunteer to do was shovel animal excrement. He hid his inner disgust though, knowing it was too late to back out whether this was the correct call or not.

"Erm... Captain..." Banks stared at Becker as he stripped his jacket off and grabbed the broom off Jameson and picked up a shovel propped against the door in waiting. "Do you really think...?"

"I'm doing it. I'm sure I can at least deal with this dinosaur if you're expecting that any newbie can. And after all, that's what I am; a newbie." Becker stood in front of Banks and for a second Banks felt saw the authority that had been lacking from the other man over the past few days.

The moment was only fleeting and Becker turned to unlock the door to the compound of the dinosaur. Instead of going down the steps into the room, he slipped off the block directly onto the floor, the other end of the room from where the dinosaur lay sleepily.

"Beck... Captain! Wait! You need this!" Banks leaned down into the cell and presented a blue tabard to the Captain. "Cutter has shown that this colour can calm it. Something to do with... just put it on."

"It doesn't look very ferocious to me," observed Becker. Banks grunted and threw the tabard at the Captain.

"Of course not. It's a pouncer. Moves like a flash," explained Banks earnestly. "Amateur," he added under his breath, loud enough for Becker to hear very clear.

Becker gritted his teeth and threw the tabard over his head without taking another look at it. He swept around his feet before eyening the creature carefully. He approached slowly, but, upon seeing no reaction, gained confidence, took a bold visible step forward, keeping his eye on dinosaur.

His foot squelched in the dung it met. He looked down slowly and took a deep breath in. This was a mistake as his mouth filled with the bitter tang of manure. He fought back his gag reflex.

He swept up a little more and noticed the dinosaur was taking an interest in his actions. He paused and the dinosaur definitely looked him up and down, before relaxing down. It seemed the tabard was working.

The Captain also relaxed more and started cleaning the room as quickly and as efficiently as he could. With the broom, he brushed all the loose dirt into a pile quickly and set about scooping it into the bucket sat in the corner. The brown mush flicked onto him, spattering his black T-shirt and coating the bottom of his trousers.

This, Becker, conceded, was grim.

A speck flew up and caught him on the lip. Becker immediately felt his gut clenched, ready to hurl, but, instead, he gingerly took a deep breath through his nose and wiped his forearm across his mouth. He glanced back and noted the people still watching him. This wasn't surprising, as everyone had been watching him all the time since he first entered the place, but never had it been as annoying as it was now.

He really wanted to spit.

He continued scooping all the dung up and surveyed the rest of the room. It was clear and an overwhelming sense of relief washed over the relieved man. He leant the shovel against the wall and surveyed his work. He heard a scrapping sound and turned to watch, almost as if in slow-motion, the shovel slide down and clatter to the ground. His relief quickly dissipated as the creature grunted and lurched to its feet.

Becker glanced up to his spectators, but realised that for some inexplicable reason, they'd gone. He turned back to the creature and gulped. The animal grunted a few times and huffed roughly, before eyeing the Captain carefully.

Becker stepped backwards and felt the far wall press against his back, just as the dinosaur growled.

Gasp. Not another cliffhanger. Review please... Or there may be another one. ;-)