Author's note: Becker and Sarah's adventures (I use the term loosely considering my writing style) through time continue…


The creature...man? grunted, a cloud misting the air as its hot breath froze on the bitter chill, joining with the rapid puffs from the soldier and scientist.

"Let her go," he barked, knowing that the Neanderthal couldn't comprehend a word he said, but hoping the authoritative tone would be enough to illustrate his displeasure. Leave it to the archaeologist to be carried off by an extinct branch of the extended human family.

The creature held her protectively close in front of him, blocking Becker from any safe shot. However, the soldier did not lower his weapon, even upon Sarah's insistent request and reminder that history was easily malleable.

He had ordered his men to stay behind, protect camp and keep an eye out for the imminent anomaly. Thus there was no one to sneak up behind the creature or serve as a failsafe if the situation degraded. On the other hand, if the Neanderthal didn't feel as if he were surrounded or cornered, there my be a more passive resolution to the predicament.

Becker's eyes met the surprisingly human ones of Dr. Page's kidnapper. They revealed a frightened individual rather than an angry or aggressive one. But that wasn't enough to allay the soldier's wariness.

And then a club was jabbed in his direction, making his trigger finger twitch but not beyond his self-control. It was somehow a passive gesture, as if the creature were offering the item to him...but why?

He couldn't suppress the smirk upon his lips as his eyebrows raised over the amusing notion that had struck him. Well, if that were the case, and the Neanderthal didn't want a fight... He lowered his weapon somewhat, but kept it at the ready and in view of the creature's pensive eyes. The Neanderthal knew its frightening power, for Becker had fired a couple warning shots to halt its flee with Sarah thrown over its shoulder.

Stepping forward, he grabbed Sarah forcefully by the arm and tugged her to his side, knowing actions spoke louder than words that would never be understood by their extremely distant cousin. Yet, not to underestimate the effect of the verbal element, he added in a distinct, firm tone, "She's mine."

Cautiously he turned his back, listening intently for any movement on the creature's part before dragging Sarah along back towards the camp. After only about ten metres, the archaeologist wrenched her arm from his grasp, spinning to face the startled soldier and jabbing him in the chest with a gloved finger.

"Who in the hell do you think you are?!" she shouted. It echoed across the vast, snow-covered landscape, causing both to hesitate from the ferocity of her outburst. He gave her a what-did-I-do look. She continued to glare up at him.

"I'm sick of you pushing me about," she hissed. "I'm not one of your soldiers that you can order me around."

Becker tried to protest that he didn't treat her like one of his men, that he didn't think of her in anywhere near the same context, but she cut him off with a sharp look that said interrupting her would be tantamount to verbal suicide.

"I'm not just some asset for this mission."

Was that really what she believed he thought her?

"And I'm not a child that needs looking after, either."

This was the thanks he got after saving her life more times than he could recount?!

"Maybe you should stop wandering off like one, then!" he snapped at her, losing his composure momentarily. "You're the one supposed to be guiding us through the anomalies, yet whenever it's time to go, you're nowhere to be found and I have to play hide-and-seek with Dr. Page whilst hoping that we don't end up stuck forever wandering through time!"

She scowled at him, apparently beyond words with which to attack him. And oddly enough, he found himself distracted by her pursed lips that were somehow appealing despite their painfully chapped appearance. They matched her wind burnt cheeks, red from the heat of their argument or the chill of the air he couldn't say for certain. However, he was certain that she was no less an attractive woman in this state, bundled against the cold, fatigued, angry... passionate.

She swiftly turned on her heel and marched off towards the camp.

God, the woman could infuriate him. But the trait only seemed to fix her more in his thoughts.

"I should've took the damn club," He muttered, easily catching up the smaller woman.

"What?!" she barked at him, still heated over their exchange.

"Nice club, was that. Real mammoth bone, do you think?" he commented matter-of-factly, knowing full well he'd never trade Dr. Page for anything, no matter how tempting.


A/N: Sarah seems a little moody. My bad. I feel like her outburst would appear better justified in a story that was a little more in-depth, but it was written on the basis that quite a bit of (mundane?) stuff has happened that I just didn't include? I don't know. Enjoy?