Disclaimer: Primeval and the lovely song "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" do not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.
Any references to people, places, businesses etc is entirely fictitious.
A/N: A collaboration with Mijo54. A/N2 story takes place after Detour.
10.3 On the Home Front
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Becker finished painting the dining room tangerine orange Monday night. Tuesday night after work, he started to open the container of warm red paint Jess had selected for the living room walls, when there was a knock on the door.
"Connor?" said Becker in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"You were invited to dinner," reminded the dark haired scientist, "yesterday and again tonight."
"I want to finish up the painting," replied Becker. He gestured to the room behind him. A tarp covered a futon and pile of boxes in the middle of the room. Drop clothes and newspaper surrounded the edges of the tarp, reaching to the walls.
"First dinner," insisted Connor, "or Abby will have my head. I'll help you paint afterwards."
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Becker leaned back in the chair at Abby and Connor's dining table. The little girl sitting in the high chair opposite him leaned back also. Becker placed his fork on the plate beside the knife and spoon. Little Sarah placed her rubber tipped spoon on her plastic dish. Becker pushed his plate back, Sarah did the same. Becker smirked and the child smiled back.
"I think you've got a fan," teased Abby.
Becker glanced from Abby to Connor. The ARCs technical wizard was staring at his daughter.
"Thought you were supposed to be Daddy's girl, Princess," said Connor.
At the sound of her father's voice, the child's head turned to face Connor. She started chattering an incoherent babble of sounds. A smile lit up the face of the dark haired man sitting next to Becker. Connor nodded as if he understood the unintelligible sounds.
"Connor, would you take Sarah upstairs and get her changed for bed please?" asked Abby as the child reached for her father.
"Yeah, sure," answered Connor.
He rose from the table and lifted the little girl out the high chair. The child immediately snuggled against Connor's chest. As Connor left the room carrying Sarah, the little girl peeked over her father's shoulder. Sarah opened and closed her little hand in a gesture that might have been meant to be a wave.
"Fans are fickle," said Becker with a chuckle as the two disappeared down the hallway.
Abby laughed as she stood up and began gathering dishes from the table.
"Sarah's a Daddy's girl alright," replied Abby, "but she does like you too Becker."
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Becker and Connor walked quickly through the park. By the time Connor had returned with Sarah dressed in pajamas, the table had been cleared and the dishwasher started. Abby had insisted that the two of them get started on the painting.
"Glad Jess and her sister arrived safely," said Connor. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his black woolen button down coat and leaned into the wind. "It's a shame about the luggage though."
"Yeah," replied Becker, "according to the airline, they think the luggage was sent to Dubai when Jess and Evie changed planes in Singapore."
"Jess can go shopping, or you can bring stuff on Thursday when I take you to the airport," continued Connor.
"Or she can wait for her luggage to be returned tomorrow," replied Becker. "Jess said she and Evie would borrow clothes for a day from her cousin Kate."
Connor looked at Becker quizzically. He remembered seeing the pictures from the wedding in France the year before.
"Isn't Kate the big tall girl?" asked Connor. "She didn't look close in size to Jess."
"The main problem is the shoes," said Becker. "Jess has tiny feet. Right now, she's only got the shoes she's wearing."
Becker ran up the steps to his and Jess's new home. The soldier unlocked the front door and flipped on the lights as he stepped inside. Connor followed him. Becker tossed his multi-pocketed black zip jacket on the futon, then knelt on the nearest drop cloth and opened the can of red paint. Becker poured some paint in a tray and picked up a roller brush. He held it out towards Connor.
"I really appreciate your help Con," said Becker.
Connor looked around the bare room as he slowly removed his jacket.
"Mate, where's your CD player?" asked Connor.
"I haven't exactly started unpacking yet," replied Becker.
"We need music to paint by," insisted Connor.
The third box held Becker's CD player. Connor gave a low whistle as Becker pulled out the device.
"Supercool," said Connor approvingly, but then he frowned as he peered at the CDs in the box. "Mozart… Chopin… Beethoven…What's with all the classical music mate?"
"Mum was a music teacher," answered Becker as he carried the CD player to the kitchen counter, "I grew up listening to classical music."
"My Mum likes that stuff too," replied Connor. He held up his hands and wiggled the long slender fingers peeking through the ends of the fingerless gloves. "She even sent me to piano lessons when I was a lad… didn't take though."
Becker merely grunted in response as he plugged in the CD player.
"Don't tell me," said Connor with a grin. "Did your Mum make you take piano lessons too?"
Becker gave Connor a stern look. The soldier held up his big hand. The calloused fingers waved at the scientist.
"Does this look like the hand of a pianist Temple?" growled Becker.
"No, not really," replied Connor. Mischief lit up his eyes. "But you didn't really answer the question now Becker. Did you?"
The soldier glared and pointed to the next box in the pile.
"There are more CDs in that box," replied Becker.
Connor set the box he was holding down on the futon and started opening the next box. The scientist very carefully kept his eyes on the tape he was peeling back as he asked his next question.
"So how many years of piano lessons did you have Becker?" asked Connor.
Becker sighed. He could tell Connor wasn't going to let this go.
"Not years," answered Becker "just six weeks of piano lessons."
Connor was now sorting through the other CDs in the box.
"And did you try any other instruments?" asked Connor. He looked across the living room to Becker with a twinkle in his eye.
Becker closed his eyes briefly and sighed once more.
"Violin lessons lasted four weeks," admitted Becker, "French horn two weeks, percussion… lasted until the end of sixth form."
"Percussion?" asked Connor. He carried the box of CDs to the kitchen counter and set them down next to the player.
"Yeah," replied Becker. "I was the bloke in the back of the band recitals that hit the cymbals together."
Connor nodded knowingly.
"I was the bloke with the triangle," confided Connor. He held up a clear CD case with a handwritten label… MIX.
"What's this?" asked Connor.
"Music to paint by," said Becker as he took the disc from his friend.
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Two hours later, the two men leaned against the kitchen counter again. This time they were facing the living room, admiring their work. In the kitchen sink behind them, paint brushes, rollers and trays were drying.
"I was really thinking the red paint would make the place look like some sort of creepy haunted house in a horror movie," said Connor, "but it looks great."
Becker's eyebrows went up.
"Seriously," asked Becker, "you think it looks like a horror movie?"
The ending refrain of a Radiohead song faded away as a very flustered Connor tried to pull his foot out of his mouth.
"No, that's not what I meant! I mean, that's what I thought before I saw the paint on the walls," spluttered the scientist, "but really it's not like a horror movie, not bloody looking at all, it… it's… warm, cozy even."
Becker smirked at Connor's babbling.
"Jess thought the color would contrast well with the black cabinet furniture I have," said Becker.
"And I'm not really worried about haunted houses with Jess in this neighborhood," continued Connor.
"What?" asked Becker as a song by the Proclaimers started.
"Well Jess's last name," answered Connor, "Parker means keeper of the park… with Jess here we don't have to worry about ghosts or zombies or…"
"Connor, are you really worried about ghosts and zombies?" interrupted Becker.
Connor shook his head and mumbled something about dinosaurs. Becker rolled his eyes. The song refrain sang out... walk five hundred miles...
"Jess can't watch the park now," reminded Becker, "she is over half the world away."
"She's not over half the world away, not really," protested Connor. "The earth is over twenty-four thousand miles around, and it's only just over ten thousand miles from London to Sydney."
"Too far," replied Becker, "but I'm gonna be at her door on Friday."
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