Author's Note: So this story needs to be told. We are on hiatus with Primeval until god knows when and I need to figure out what is going to happen with the anomalies, what happens with Emily and what will happen when Abby finds out Connor is lying to her per Philip's orders. However, this first chapter is simply a Matt and Emily chapter. I hope to add more soon and keep up my writing bug as long as I can. Please be patient and I will do my best to keep you entertained!

I don't own any of this, please note that I make nothing from this except personal joy when I get a review! Thanks!

Matt watched as Emily stepped through the anomaly. Her brown hair in ringlets around her face; she was dressed in a purple walking skirt, white shirt and a brown leather jacket. It was the same thing he had found her wearing when they first met. Her eyes locked on his and he could see the indecision in her eyes. He knew she wanted to stay and help him. A tear trickling down her face said more than words would ever possibly express. Matt bit his lip to keep from calling out to her as she turned and continued through the swirling mass of floating crystals towards her home, towards 1867.

The anomaly flashed and pulsed as if nothing had happened. That two people from two very different times had not just been torn apart didn't matter to the anomaly. Matt steeled himself as he watched the anomaly start to waver, then pulse steadily and vanish. Emily was gone as if she had never been.

That night, Matt sat on the edge of the sofa in his loft. The soft light from the kitchen were all the illuminated the room. He held a glass of water in his hand and stared pensively out into the night. On the table in front of him were several drawings of Ethan, or Patrick, or whatever they were going to decide to call them. He had told Jess not to call unless it was a true emergency. He needed a night off from the ARC. As much as he had lied to himself and his father, Gideon, about not being distracted by Emily, he was torn inside. He wished he could see her smile again, or hear her laugh as she was amazed by the advancement of this age.

His fingers slid over the edges of the paper in front of him, brushing the charcoal and smearing the lines. Drawing his hand back, Matt looked at his fingers, covered in gray charcoal dust. This was all he had of her now; the images she drew of a man who wanted to kill the people who stood in his way; a man he had thought was the key to the anomalies. Ethan had been nothing but a confused man, torn from his family at a young age and sent to a distant time with no one to care or protect him. He wasn't the man that Matt was looking for.

Matt took a sip of water and set the glass down on the table with a clink. The paper lay innocently on the table, Ethan's face staring up at him. He covered it up with another sheet, tired of staring at the face on the page and what it might mean. Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, he sighed. He was now back at square one. Who was going to disrupt the anomalies? It obviously wasn't Ethan, and now that Emily and Danny had crossed back through the anomalies, their names had been checked off the list as well.

The smell was what hit her first. She knew that her time was less sanitary than the 21st century, however her nose was quick to tell her that she had actually made it back to 1867. Emily wiped the tear from her cheek and pushed thoughts of Matt from her mind. He had made his choice, and she had made hers. This was for the best. He would have the ability to focus on saving the future without the distraction that she might have caused.

She surveyed her surroundings and noticed that she had shifted not only in time but in location. It was hard to tell in the prehistoric eras if you had shifted location, but this was obviously not the prison where she had been only moments before.

The green of the grass around her and the tall bushes and trees would indicate she had been transported to a park. Hopefully it was one she could easily get out of, and not someone's back garden or a private estate. Fidgeting with her necklace, Emily made up her mind and walked towards the sounds of a busy street, hoping not to meet anyone; her skirt was far too short for this time period.

Finding a split in one of the hedges, Emily walked through it, her skit tearing a bit and the branches scratching at her face. Unconcerned about a few brambles, Emily pushed through and found herself on a path. A surprisingly familiar path. She suddenly realized that she had been transported to the edge of Hyde Park in the middle of London. She was only a mile or so from her parent's London home and she hoped she would be able to find refuge there.

She continued down the path and people began to notice her appearance. A skirt that rose above her ankles and abrown leather jacket stood out from all hoop skirted crinolines and shawls; ladies began to twitter as she passed and gentlemen averted their eyes. Emily tried not to roll her eyes and think about the short skirts that Jess liked to wear to the ARC.

"Miss, are you in need of assistance?" came a voice, jolting Emily from her thoughts. In front of her stood a well dressed gentleman with a top hat stuck at almost a jaunty angle on his head. Certainly not the proscribed angle for such a hat.

"I'm fine" replied Emily, attempting to end the conversation.

"But you are bleeding, and far less than dressed for an afternoon in Hyde Park" the gentleman offered a handkerchief. Emily reached up to her cheek and noticed that one of the branches had made a slight cut on her cheek. She hadn't even noticed, her mind overwhelmed with being back in the 19th century.

"Thank you," Emily inclined her head and accepted the handkerchief. She smiled at the man and wiped her cheek.

"You're welcome," he replied, "Now can I help you find your way? Have you lost your walking companion?"

Emily was thankful that he had given her a way out of this situation; she stammered uncharacteristically, "Y- - yes. My companion and I must have fallen asleep during our picnic - -just in the field there. When I awoke she had gone. I don't know what has happened. I tore my dress trying to come through the bushes."

Emily blushed, hoping to sell the act. She needed all the help she could get at this point.

Victorian England could be deadly.

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