Fic: "All Quiet On The Night Shift", Gen, Primeval Sanctuary!verse
Title: All Quiet On The Night Shift
Author: mysteriousaliwz
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing: Gen, hints of OFC/Norman from Maintenance
Rating: U
Wordcount: 794
Author Notes: Located in the ARC, with references to Sanctuary. If you’re not familiar with Primeval Sanctuary!verse, this will make no sense whatsoever. (Masterlist here: Sanctuary Masterlist.)
From the prompt ‘The Night Shift’ given to me at the Denial weekend. Norman belongs to fredbassett, who was kind enough to Normanify the dialogue & beta for me, despite being horrendously busy. Many thanks m'dear! (Due to technical issues, some of the edits may have been mangled in transit, so anything that seems off is solely my responsibility.)
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Lena’s head appeared round the door of the office.
“Tea-break!” she announced cheerfully. “Have you finished the hoovering yet?”
Shelly blinked at the interruption.
“Um, not yet, still got to finish this room.”
“No problem, love, we can do it after. Bring the rubbish.”
Lena headed off down the corridor to the kitchen area, with Shelly trailing after her, clutching a black bin bag.
“Pop them over by the others,” Lena said, gesturing at a pile of bin bags by the doorway, “I’ll take them round the back door at the end of the shift.”
“I’ll be doing that,” said a gruff voice behind Shelly, who gave a little shriek of surprise and looked around.
“Goodness, you gave me a scare! I didn’t see you there,“ she said to the man emerging from the door marked ‘Maintenance Only’.
“Norman!” exclaimed Lena. “Such a gentleman! I didn’t know you’d be around tonight.”
The gentleman in question muttered something that sounded like ‘One o’ them diggin’ pests been at the wiring for Monty’s cage door’.
“Well the kettle’s on. Fancy a cuppa?” asked Lena.
He nodded, and gathering up the rubbish bags, carted them off down the corridor.
Lena smoothed down her nylon overalls and checked her reflection in the door of the microwave, patting her grey curls into place.
“Who was that, then?” asked Shelly. This was only her second day working at the ARC and she still hadn’t quite got over the shock.
“That’s Norman from Maintenance. He’s a lovely fella, just don’t bring up the subject of the Archbishop of Canterbury.”
Shelly opened her mouth to ask why, and then thought better of it. She was still having enough trouble getting her head around the idea that there were real, live dinosaurs wandering around the place through holes in time and that she’d been introduced to a mammoth in the basement during her meal-break yesterday. (It had liked the apple.) Adding religion into the mix was, she thought, asking for a nervous breakdown.
Lena filled the teapot and took out some mugs, handing Shelly the one with the picture of Luke Skywalker. She added three sugars to the Spice Girls mug and the ‘I ♥ Triceratops’ one, then waved the bag of sugar enquiringly at Shelly.
“Just milk in mine, thanks.”
Lena poured out the tea. Norman returned to the kitchen and pottered around at the sink.
“You’re looking very dapper tonight, Norman. Is that a new pair of socks from Dave?” asked Lena.
Shelly glanced at Norman’s ankles. The socks in question were obviously hand-knitted, and in a particularly virulent shade of yellow wool.
“Arp. ‘e liked that tea-cosy pattern you gave ‘im, e’s knitting one for you now.”
“Aw, bless him! By the way, I have that mohair & wool yarn he wanted, but they only had the primrose shade and not the buttercup, hope he doesn’t mind.” Lena rummaged in one of the cupboards and took out a carrier bag full of balls of wool.
“Thanks Lena, that’ll keep the blighter busy a wee while. ‘obnob?”
He held out an open packet of biscuits.
Lena and Shelly both took one.
“Ooh, chocolate ones! You do know how to treat a girl, Norman!”
Lena smiled coquettishly at Norman, who blushed furiously. He ducked his head, and sipped at his mug of tea, mumbling something even more incoherent than usual.
“You still all right to come round this weekend and paint the shed, Norman, love? That Moroccan Pink paint you showed me looked lovely and bright, should cheer up the garden no end.”
“Arp”, nodded Norman from behind his mug. He knocked back the last of his tea and picked up the bag of wool. “I’ll just drop this off with Dave afore I fix up the big fella’s door.”
He headed back through the door marked ‘Maintenance Only’.
“I could have sworn that was a cupboard,” remarked Shelly.
Lena looked shifty. “Well ... sort of.”
Shelly looked at her, bemused.
Norman’s voice was heard from the other side of the door, barking “Sinister! Get back in there!”
“Who’s Sinister?” asked Shelly, feeling more confused than ever. “Are you not telling me something? I’ve had to sign the Official Secrets Act to promise I won’t tell anyone about the dinosaurs or the holes in the universe, I’ve met a mammoth, been buzzed by a flying lizard and the place where I work has a bleedin’ dragon in the basement! Are there unicorns too? I mean, how much more bizarre is this place gonna get?”
They both looked at the not-exactly-a-cupboard door, and Lena patted Shelly comfortingly on the shoulder.
“I don’t think you’re quite ready to know, lovey. Let’s get back and finish the hoovering, shall we?”
-------§§§§§§§-------
Author: mysteriousaliwz
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing: Gen, hints of OFC/Norman from Maintenance
Rating: U
Wordcount: 794
Author Notes: Located in the ARC, with references to Sanctuary. If you’re not familiar with Primeval Sanctuary!verse, this will make no sense whatsoever. (Masterlist here: Sanctuary Masterlist.)
From the prompt ‘The Night Shift’ given to me at the Denial weekend. Norman belongs to fredbassett, who was kind enough to Normanify the dialogue & beta for me, despite being horrendously busy. Many thanks m'dear! (Due to technical issues, some of the edits may have been mangled in transit, so anything that seems off is solely my responsibility.)
-------§§§§§§§-------
Lena’s head appeared round the door of the office.
“Tea-break!” she announced cheerfully. “Have you finished the hoovering yet?”
Shelly blinked at the interruption.
“Um, not yet, still got to finish this room.”
“No problem, love, we can do it after. Bring the rubbish.”
Lena headed off down the corridor to the kitchen area, with Shelly trailing after her, clutching a black bin bag.
“Pop them over by the others,” Lena said, gesturing at a pile of bin bags by the doorway, “I’ll take them round the back door at the end of the shift.”
“I’ll be doing that,” said a gruff voice behind Shelly, who gave a little shriek of surprise and looked around.
“Goodness, you gave me a scare! I didn’t see you there,“ she said to the man emerging from the door marked ‘Maintenance Only’.
“Norman!” exclaimed Lena. “Such a gentleman! I didn’t know you’d be around tonight.”
The gentleman in question muttered something that sounded like ‘One o’ them diggin’ pests been at the wiring for Monty’s cage door’.
“Well the kettle’s on. Fancy a cuppa?” asked Lena.
He nodded, and gathering up the rubbish bags, carted them off down the corridor.
Lena smoothed down her nylon overalls and checked her reflection in the door of the microwave, patting her grey curls into place.
“Who was that, then?” asked Shelly. This was only her second day working at the ARC and she still hadn’t quite got over the shock.
“That’s Norman from Maintenance. He’s a lovely fella, just don’t bring up the subject of the Archbishop of Canterbury.”
Shelly opened her mouth to ask why, and then thought better of it. She was still having enough trouble getting her head around the idea that there were real, live dinosaurs wandering around the place through holes in time and that she’d been introduced to a mammoth in the basement during her meal-break yesterday. (It had liked the apple.) Adding religion into the mix was, she thought, asking for a nervous breakdown.
Lena filled the teapot and took out some mugs, handing Shelly the one with the picture of Luke Skywalker. She added three sugars to the Spice Girls mug and the ‘I ♥ Triceratops’ one, then waved the bag of sugar enquiringly at Shelly.
“Just milk in mine, thanks.”
Lena poured out the tea. Norman returned to the kitchen and pottered around at the sink.
“You’re looking very dapper tonight, Norman. Is that a new pair of socks from Dave?” asked Lena.
Shelly glanced at Norman’s ankles. The socks in question were obviously hand-knitted, and in a particularly virulent shade of yellow wool.
“Arp. ‘e liked that tea-cosy pattern you gave ‘im, e’s knitting one for you now.”
“Aw, bless him! By the way, I have that mohair & wool yarn he wanted, but they only had the primrose shade and not the buttercup, hope he doesn’t mind.” Lena rummaged in one of the cupboards and took out a carrier bag full of balls of wool.
“Thanks Lena, that’ll keep the blighter busy a wee while. ‘obnob?”
He held out an open packet of biscuits.
Lena and Shelly both took one.
“Ooh, chocolate ones! You do know how to treat a girl, Norman!”
Lena smiled coquettishly at Norman, who blushed furiously. He ducked his head, and sipped at his mug of tea, mumbling something even more incoherent than usual.
“You still all right to come round this weekend and paint the shed, Norman, love? That Moroccan Pink paint you showed me looked lovely and bright, should cheer up the garden no end.”
“Arp”, nodded Norman from behind his mug. He knocked back the last of his tea and picked up the bag of wool. “I’ll just drop this off with Dave afore I fix up the big fella’s door.”
He headed back through the door marked ‘Maintenance Only’.
“I could have sworn that was a cupboard,” remarked Shelly.
Lena looked shifty. “Well ... sort of.”
Shelly looked at her, bemused.
Norman’s voice was heard from the other side of the door, barking “Sinister! Get back in there!”
“Who’s Sinister?” asked Shelly, feeling more confused than ever. “Are you not telling me something? I’ve had to sign the Official Secrets Act to promise I won’t tell anyone about the dinosaurs or the holes in the universe, I’ve met a mammoth, been buzzed by a flying lizard and the place where I work has a bleedin’ dragon in the basement! Are there unicorns too? I mean, how much more bizarre is this place gonna get?”
They both looked at the not-exactly-a-cupboard door, and Lena patted Shelly comfortingly on the shoulder.
“I don’t think you’re quite ready to know, lovey. Let’s get back and finish the hoovering, shall we?”
-------§§§§§§§-------