Title: Concourse
Author: Lady Primrose Roxton
Series: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World
Date: 8/2002
Part: 9 - Epilogue - A Work Of Time
Rating: R
Codes: M/R, N/V
Category: Romance, Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi
Summary: Starts where HotS left off. Danger Will Robinson! Mushy shipper alert, cliffhanger resolution alert, grandfather paradox alert, and hey, I even like Finn.
Spoilers: Out of Time, HotS
Disclaimer: As a matter of fact, in the shifting planes of my own reality, I *do* own TLW ;)
Feedback: Tell me -- primrose4@canby.com
Website: http://www.canby.com/ryukyu4
Posting: ff.net, tlwfix.com, others please let me know first.
***
A/N: Well, it's done, and I wonder at it all ;) Thank you for all your patience and wonderful feedback!
A/N2: It wouldn't be my introduction without at least two author's notes, doncha think? A question was asked about a term I used in part 7. * A gràdh* is Gaelic for 'my heart', which sums up Roxton and Marguerite's relationship nicely.
***
"We must remember the past, define the future, and challenge the present—wherever and however we can. It will take the rest of our lives even to begin. But then, what else have we to do?"
Jane O'Reilly, The Girl I Left Behind, Introduction (1980)
Although present on the occasion, I have no clear recollection of the events leading up to it.
Winston Churchill (1874–1965)
***
The crisis had passed. They all had hugged and cried and hugged again. The high emotions had finally settled and they all sat together. A natural silence had fallen as each began to think back on what had happened. It was as if the memories had faded to a light sepia in their minds.
The sharpness of *knowing* had left Malone. He knew that he had seen and done marvelous things. Now, all he recalled was the sense of wonder and the satisfaction of having the strength of his convictions. Somehow intrigued by its worn cover, he gently stroked the textured surface of a book from the Layton's library as it sat on the small end table by his chair. Almost immediately, an image of a pleasant looking man sitting in a chair next to a lovely blond woman, reading the very book he was touching. It evoked a warm feeling in him, then as he pulled his hand from the book, the image faded and in it's place Veronica came into focus.
"You did it," Malone said smiling up at her.
"We did it," Veronica put out her hand and Ned took it and stood up. "We need to talk," she added softly, her face a study of seriousness.
"I believe the balcony is very useful for that," Ned motioned toward it with his head.
"You're right," Veronica smiled suddenly. He had returned, for her. She would have the chance to tell him. And, maybe he could help her understand the images and feelings that danced about in her head. They walked together, hand in hand, toward the balcony.
***
"It was most intriguing," Challenger was remarking to Finn as they made their way down to his lab. "I was absolutely certain I had completely understood the entire ramifications of the affects of confluence of the shifting planes of reality and time with regard to the multitudes of gravitational shifts, then...I just forgot. I don't suppose you recall any of what I said," he eyed her hopefully.
Finn just looked at him for a second, decided that he had been serious with his request, took him by the arm, and remarked in a friendly tone, "Don't you have those algae experiments that you need to look at? You have to record the results of the fourth batch."
"Good heavens," exclaimed Challenger. "Who knows how long we've been gone. The control will have to be reset and the batch completely redone, especially..." his voice reduced to a mumble as he searched through the supply closet for his fine mesh net and some more specimen jars.
Finn leaned back against the lab table and chuckled ruefully. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but she knew she had just signed herself up for another algae *hunt* voluntarily. A strange day.
***
Two old souls sat next to each other. She had her head on his shoulder; he had his hand entwined with hers. Marguerite could feel the knowledge of who she had been and what had happened slowly draining away. She looked at Roxton and he seemed puzzled.
"What's the matter, John?" she asked softly.
"I'm forgetting what happened," he replied sadly. "I want to remember what happened with Will and Malone and you," he sighed and looked at her closely. "You're not forgetting, are you?"
"Most of it, I think," Marguerite said. "It's mostly like a dream now. The power, the conflict," she touched his face. "the way I lost you before."
"You have me now," Roxton assured her. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Thank you," Marguerite slid her other hand from his grasp and placed it on the other side of his face. Touching their foreheads together, she said, "We will remember, my love. If not the details, the feelings behind them."
Roxton pulled her into his arms and they kissed. Deep in their minds, Morrigan and Tiarnan kissed again, echoing back through the centuries. Then, gently, the memories slid back into their resting places, and it was Marguerite and Roxton who finished the embrace.
"A gràdh," Roxton said softly, wonderingly, stroking her hair.
"A gràdh," replied Marguerite, nestling into the hollow of his shoulder, content.
Fin
Author: Lady Primrose Roxton
Series: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World
Date: 8/2002
Part: 9 - Epilogue - A Work Of Time
Rating: R
Codes: M/R, N/V
Category: Romance, Action/Adventure, Sci-Fi
Summary: Starts where HotS left off. Danger Will Robinson! Mushy shipper alert, cliffhanger resolution alert, grandfather paradox alert, and hey, I even like Finn.
Spoilers: Out of Time, HotS
Disclaimer: As a matter of fact, in the shifting planes of my own reality, I *do* own TLW ;)
Feedback: Tell me -- primrose4@canby.com
Website: http://www.canby.com/ryukyu4
Posting: ff.net, tlwfix.com, others please let me know first.
***
A/N: Well, it's done, and I wonder at it all ;) Thank you for all your patience and wonderful feedback!
A/N2: It wouldn't be my introduction without at least two author's notes, doncha think? A question was asked about a term I used in part 7. * A gràdh* is Gaelic for 'my heart', which sums up Roxton and Marguerite's relationship nicely.
***
"We must remember the past, define the future, and challenge the present—wherever and however we can. It will take the rest of our lives even to begin. But then, what else have we to do?"
Jane O'Reilly, The Girl I Left Behind, Introduction (1980)
Although present on the occasion, I have no clear recollection of the events leading up to it.
Winston Churchill (1874–1965)
***
The crisis had passed. They all had hugged and cried and hugged again. The high emotions had finally settled and they all sat together. A natural silence had fallen as each began to think back on what had happened. It was as if the memories had faded to a light sepia in their minds.
The sharpness of *knowing* had left Malone. He knew that he had seen and done marvelous things. Now, all he recalled was the sense of wonder and the satisfaction of having the strength of his convictions. Somehow intrigued by its worn cover, he gently stroked the textured surface of a book from the Layton's library as it sat on the small end table by his chair. Almost immediately, an image of a pleasant looking man sitting in a chair next to a lovely blond woman, reading the very book he was touching. It evoked a warm feeling in him, then as he pulled his hand from the book, the image faded and in it's place Veronica came into focus.
"You did it," Malone said smiling up at her.
"We did it," Veronica put out her hand and Ned took it and stood up. "We need to talk," she added softly, her face a study of seriousness.
"I believe the balcony is very useful for that," Ned motioned toward it with his head.
"You're right," Veronica smiled suddenly. He had returned, for her. She would have the chance to tell him. And, maybe he could help her understand the images and feelings that danced about in her head. They walked together, hand in hand, toward the balcony.
***
"It was most intriguing," Challenger was remarking to Finn as they made their way down to his lab. "I was absolutely certain I had completely understood the entire ramifications of the affects of confluence of the shifting planes of reality and time with regard to the multitudes of gravitational shifts, then...I just forgot. I don't suppose you recall any of what I said," he eyed her hopefully.
Finn just looked at him for a second, decided that he had been serious with his request, took him by the arm, and remarked in a friendly tone, "Don't you have those algae experiments that you need to look at? You have to record the results of the fourth batch."
"Good heavens," exclaimed Challenger. "Who knows how long we've been gone. The control will have to be reset and the batch completely redone, especially..." his voice reduced to a mumble as he searched through the supply closet for his fine mesh net and some more specimen jars.
Finn leaned back against the lab table and chuckled ruefully. She wasn't sure what had just happened, but she knew she had just signed herself up for another algae *hunt* voluntarily. A strange day.
***
Two old souls sat next to each other. She had her head on his shoulder; he had his hand entwined with hers. Marguerite could feel the knowledge of who she had been and what had happened slowly draining away. She looked at Roxton and he seemed puzzled.
"What's the matter, John?" she asked softly.
"I'm forgetting what happened," he replied sadly. "I want to remember what happened with Will and Malone and you," he sighed and looked at her closely. "You're not forgetting, are you?"
"Most of it, I think," Marguerite said. "It's mostly like a dream now. The power, the conflict," she touched his face. "the way I lost you before."
"You have me now," Roxton assured her. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Thank you," Marguerite slid her other hand from his grasp and placed it on the other side of his face. Touching their foreheads together, she said, "We will remember, my love. If not the details, the feelings behind them."
Roxton pulled her into his arms and they kissed. Deep in their minds, Morrigan and Tiarnan kissed again, echoing back through the centuries. Then, gently, the memories slid back into their resting places, and it was Marguerite and Roxton who finished the embrace.
"A gràdh," Roxton said softly, wonderingly, stroking her hair.
"A gràdh," replied Marguerite, nestling into the hollow of his shoulder, content.
Fin