Primeval fic: Eohippus | Jenny, Abby| G
Title: Eohippus
Author: rustydog
Characters: Jenny, Abby
Ratings/warnings: rated G, a bit of implied animal rudeness
Words: 1378
Beta: mad_jaks
Notes: Written (but not quite finished in time) for halfamoon, the Fabulous Females Fest, and "V" in my alphabet prompt table.
Jenny knew she should take a deep breath and direct her frustration toward whoever had let this animal out of its enclosure, but right now she just wanted to wring its slender brown neck and stuff it into one of the kitchen cupboards.
She gave another tug, but the papers - the somewhat anachronistic items of paperwork without which she could not continue doing her job for the next week - were firmly clamped between the animal's little jaws. Occasionally it would grind its teeth as if it were about to start chewing cud, but it never let go. It just looked up at her with its still brown eyes and planted its four tiny, multi-toed hooves more firmly on the floor. How something the size of a large cat was managing to keep traction on the slippery flooring, Jenny would like to know; it could be useful the next time she was running from a predator, in heels.
She had begun to contemplate finding a spoon in one of the kitchen drawers and using it to pry the animal's mouth open when she heard whistling coming from the corridor. The animal must have heard it too, because its head flew up and it released the papers, sending Jenny back onto her bottom with a short cry, the papers clutched in her hand. The rest of her file was scattered over the floor, some of the pages torn and chewed.
Of course it was just then that Abby poked her head in the door.
"Everything all right in here?" She took a quick look around and winced. "Oh, Jenny, I'm sorry. I'll get her out of here right now." She turned her attention to the animal, which had walked daintily over and was smelling Abby's pockets. "No treats for you! If you escape one more time..." She growled with frustration. "Come on-"
"No - Abby, it's okay," Jenny said, picking herself up carefully to avoid slipping on a requisition form. "You don't have to go right away, as long as it's not chewing on anything. Actually - would you mind giving me a hand with all this?" She nodded to indicate the papers on the floor and table.
"Sure!" Abby agreed brightly, closing the door to prevent the animal's escape. "You just want stacks, or is there some sort of organization?"
"Well, the 690-Gs are all pink, and the 695s that go with them have a red box near the top. If you can find all of those, I can sort the rest, I think." Jenny sat down at the table and looked ruefully at the teeth marks in the forms she had already rescued.
"Right," Abby nodded, looking around. She squatted and began to gather a few of the papers near her feet. "You're a better woman than me," she said, looking up at Jenny with a grin, "this was my least favourite part of my job at the zoo, the paperwork. I was always late."
Jenny shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I'm hiding in the kitchen with this much work, four hours before my deadline?" She chuckled. "The consolation is, it drives Lester batty when I leave it so late. Though I don't think either one of us realized government work in the twenty-first century would still involve so much actual... paper."
Abby brought a stack to the table to sort. The animal followed her, no doubt hoping for another fibrous snack.
"What is that, anyway" Jenny said, watching the animal, "a... miniature deer? I don't remember it arriving."
"A horse, actually!" Abby grinned. "Sort of. Hyracotherium, cutest horse ever, aren't you Hippie?" she baby-talked to it. It stood gazing at her with its mild eyes, then gave a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a squeak.
Jenny giggled. "I'd like to see her on a polo field."
"We're just waiting for another anomaly from the Eocene so we can send her back," Abby said. "I'll miss her, though. You know she's pregnant?"
"Oh, god, really?" Jenny took another look at the creature, but she couldn't tell. "I'm glad it's you taking care of her, not me. It's not that I mind animals, and I know how to ride. I just... didn't have pets growing up."
Abby shook her head. "Me neither."
"Really? I'm surprised, Abby."
"Our house wasn't a great place for children, let alone animals." She shrugged and the dark look that had briefly crept over her face was replaced by something mischievous. "But I used to bring home toads from my friend's garden and keep them under my bed," she said. "They made noises at night and scared my mum."
Jenny chuckled. "I don't think I would have liked that, either."
"And that would have just made me want to torture you more." Abby grinned ruefully. "I could be a little beast to the girly girls." Then her mouth popped open in realization. "Oh! Not that- I mean-"
Jenny laughed, dismissing the comment, and continued trying to match up torn pieces of paper like a puzzle. "No, I was sort of a girly girl, but you'd be surprised. I think we might have got on well if we'd known each other as children." She looked around the kitchen. "We don't happen to keep sellotape in here, do-" She broke off and gave a sharp cry which dissolved into panting laughter. "Shoo, no, stop it!" Jenny stood up and hopped back, knocking her chair over in her haste. "Your horse was... nuzzling my... well, it was not being very polite!"
Abby bent down and peered under the table. "Bad Hippie! You have to stop that," she said sternly, for all the effect it had on the animal. Hippie walked out into the middle of the room and stretched her neck up, sniffing the air.
"I'm sorry," Abby said, looking back at Jenny, "mammals can be so rude!"
"Tell me about it," Jenny replied, "have you ever been near the locker room when Becker's team comes back from a mission?"
Abby laughed and started to reply, but she was interrupted by the sudden blare of the anomaly alarm ringing through the ARC. The little horse creature started, then backed itself into a corner between two cupboards and cowered.
Abby winced, looking at Jenny with an unspoken question.
"Go," Jenny told her, "I'll take care of her. I'm sure it'll be fine." She smiled and shooed Abby toward the door.
"Thanks!" Abby called over her shoulder. "I owe you one, make sure she gets some water!" And she was gone with a squeak of her trainers on the polished floor.
"Be careful," Jenny said softly. She worried when the team went off to face the unknown day after day. "They had better come back safe, eh?" she said to Hippie. The animal was back on its feet and making its way cautiously toward Jenny. "Because I don't mind variety, but I did not get involved in government work to play All Creatures Great and Small. You'd rather have Abby as your midwife, trust me."
She gathered all the papers on the table and put them in a high cupboard where she was sure they'd be safe. Then she held out her hand, mostly to keep the creature from making further investigations into... places where it was unwelcome. It sniffed and began nuzzling her palm; its nose and lips were velvety and supple. Jenny bent down to stroke its neck and noticed a faint hint of white spots in the chestnut brown hair.
"Well, I'm sure there's a sugar cube around here somewhere. Would you like that before I go?"
The animal gave another of its high-pitched snorts.
She was having a conversation with an animal. An extinct animal. Jenny rolled her eyes at herself, but in truth, she didn't feel that silly. All this had begun to feel almost normal, despite the dangers and frequent annoyances. Did she prefer it to a life of press conferences and receptions and intergovernmental memos? On a good day, the answer was a definite yes. The rest... well, she was still working it out.
Hippie snorted again.
"All right, one sugar lump, a bowl of water, and then you're Abby's responsibility again."
Never dull, this job.
Author: rustydog
Characters: Jenny, Abby
Ratings/warnings: rated G, a bit of implied animal rudeness
Words: 1378
Beta: mad_jaks
Notes: Written (but not quite finished in time) for halfamoon, the Fabulous Females Fest, and "V" in my alphabet prompt table.
Jenny knew she should take a deep breath and direct her frustration toward whoever had let this animal out of its enclosure, but right now she just wanted to wring its slender brown neck and stuff it into one of the kitchen cupboards.
She gave another tug, but the papers - the somewhat anachronistic items of paperwork without which she could not continue doing her job for the next week - were firmly clamped between the animal's little jaws. Occasionally it would grind its teeth as if it were about to start chewing cud, but it never let go. It just looked up at her with its still brown eyes and planted its four tiny, multi-toed hooves more firmly on the floor. How something the size of a large cat was managing to keep traction on the slippery flooring, Jenny would like to know; it could be useful the next time she was running from a predator, in heels.
She had begun to contemplate finding a spoon in one of the kitchen drawers and using it to pry the animal's mouth open when she heard whistling coming from the corridor. The animal must have heard it too, because its head flew up and it released the papers, sending Jenny back onto her bottom with a short cry, the papers clutched in her hand. The rest of her file was scattered over the floor, some of the pages torn and chewed.
Of course it was just then that Abby poked her head in the door.
"Everything all right in here?" She took a quick look around and winced. "Oh, Jenny, I'm sorry. I'll get her out of here right now." She turned her attention to the animal, which had walked daintily over and was smelling Abby's pockets. "No treats for you! If you escape one more time..." She growled with frustration. "Come on-"
"No - Abby, it's okay," Jenny said, picking herself up carefully to avoid slipping on a requisition form. "You don't have to go right away, as long as it's not chewing on anything. Actually - would you mind giving me a hand with all this?" She nodded to indicate the papers on the floor and table.
"Sure!" Abby agreed brightly, closing the door to prevent the animal's escape. "You just want stacks, or is there some sort of organization?"
"Well, the 690-Gs are all pink, and the 695s that go with them have a red box near the top. If you can find all of those, I can sort the rest, I think." Jenny sat down at the table and looked ruefully at the teeth marks in the forms she had already rescued.
"Right," Abby nodded, looking around. She squatted and began to gather a few of the papers near her feet. "You're a better woman than me," she said, looking up at Jenny with a grin, "this was my least favourite part of my job at the zoo, the paperwork. I was always late."
Jenny shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I'm hiding in the kitchen with this much work, four hours before my deadline?" She chuckled. "The consolation is, it drives Lester batty when I leave it so late. Though I don't think either one of us realized government work in the twenty-first century would still involve so much actual... paper."
Abby brought a stack to the table to sort. The animal followed her, no doubt hoping for another fibrous snack.
"What is that, anyway" Jenny said, watching the animal, "a... miniature deer? I don't remember it arriving."
"A horse, actually!" Abby grinned. "Sort of. Hyracotherium, cutest horse ever, aren't you Hippie?" she baby-talked to it. It stood gazing at her with its mild eyes, then gave a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a squeak.
Jenny giggled. "I'd like to see her on a polo field."
"We're just waiting for another anomaly from the Eocene so we can send her back," Abby said. "I'll miss her, though. You know she's pregnant?"
"Oh, god, really?" Jenny took another look at the creature, but she couldn't tell. "I'm glad it's you taking care of her, not me. It's not that I mind animals, and I know how to ride. I just... didn't have pets growing up."
Abby shook her head. "Me neither."
"Really? I'm surprised, Abby."
"Our house wasn't a great place for children, let alone animals." She shrugged and the dark look that had briefly crept over her face was replaced by something mischievous. "But I used to bring home toads from my friend's garden and keep them under my bed," she said. "They made noises at night and scared my mum."
Jenny chuckled. "I don't think I would have liked that, either."
"And that would have just made me want to torture you more." Abby grinned ruefully. "I could be a little beast to the girly girls." Then her mouth popped open in realization. "Oh! Not that- I mean-"
Jenny laughed, dismissing the comment, and continued trying to match up torn pieces of paper like a puzzle. "No, I was sort of a girly girl, but you'd be surprised. I think we might have got on well if we'd known each other as children." She looked around the kitchen. "We don't happen to keep sellotape in here, do-" She broke off and gave a sharp cry which dissolved into panting laughter. "Shoo, no, stop it!" Jenny stood up and hopped back, knocking her chair over in her haste. "Your horse was... nuzzling my... well, it was not being very polite!"
Abby bent down and peered under the table. "Bad Hippie! You have to stop that," she said sternly, for all the effect it had on the animal. Hippie walked out into the middle of the room and stretched her neck up, sniffing the air.
"I'm sorry," Abby said, looking back at Jenny, "mammals can be so rude!"
"Tell me about it," Jenny replied, "have you ever been near the locker room when Becker's team comes back from a mission?"
Abby laughed and started to reply, but she was interrupted by the sudden blare of the anomaly alarm ringing through the ARC. The little horse creature started, then backed itself into a corner between two cupboards and cowered.
Abby winced, looking at Jenny with an unspoken question.
"Go," Jenny told her, "I'll take care of her. I'm sure it'll be fine." She smiled and shooed Abby toward the door.
"Thanks!" Abby called over her shoulder. "I owe you one, make sure she gets some water!" And she was gone with a squeak of her trainers on the polished floor.
"Be careful," Jenny said softly. She worried when the team went off to face the unknown day after day. "They had better come back safe, eh?" she said to Hippie. The animal was back on its feet and making its way cautiously toward Jenny. "Because I don't mind variety, but I did not get involved in government work to play All Creatures Great and Small. You'd rather have Abby as your midwife, trust me."
She gathered all the papers on the table and put them in a high cupboard where she was sure they'd be safe. Then she held out her hand, mostly to keep the creature from making further investigations into... places where it was unwelcome. It sniffed and began nuzzling her palm; its nose and lips were velvety and supple. Jenny bent down to stroke its neck and noticed a faint hint of white spots in the chestnut brown hair.
"Well, I'm sure there's a sugar cube around here somewhere. Would you like that before I go?"
The animal gave another of its high-pitched snorts.
She was having a conversation with an animal. An extinct animal. Jenny rolled her eyes at herself, but in truth, she didn't feel that silly. All this had begun to feel almost normal, despite the dangers and frequent annoyances. Did she prefer it to a life of press conferences and receptions and intergovernmental memos? On a good day, the answer was a definite yes. The rest... well, she was still working it out.
Hippie snorted again.
"All right, one sugar lump, a bowl of water, and then you're Abby's responsibility again."
Never dull, this job.