Birthdayfic for Knitekat: The Benefits of Public Relations Work
Title: The Benefits of Public Relations Work
Author: TalliW
Characters: James Lester
Rating: K
Disclaimer: Primeval is the property of Impossible Pictures. I write just for fun.
Acknowledgments: Thanks to the lovely Fredbassett for beta duty.
Summary: After Jenny Lewis leaves the ARC James Lester has to deal with noisy reporters, worried animal welfarists and stubborn offspring. And it doesn’t always go well.;)
Happy Birthday, Knitekat. Here's a little present for you.
James Lester felt a headache building at his temples and pressed his fingertips against the points of pain in the hope it wouldn't develop into a severe migraine.
The woman across from him was still babbling on about freedom of the press and that it was her responsibility to inform the readers of her local rag.
Melancolically, Lester remembered how quickly problems like that had been solved in the past when Jenny was still working for the ARC.
Thanks to her charming personality and her amazing powers of persuasion, not forgetting her feminine attributes, a little bribery, a little blackmail and a few suggestive looks had often been enough to quieten the troublemakers. And those who had been completely immune to Jenny's charms, mostly stubborn people from the press, had been taken care of by a hungry dinosaur.
Unfortunately the creatures coming through the anomalies these days showed no inclination to eat any reporters. It had probably got about in prehistoric times how hard to digest such people were.
And Lester's own charms and persuasion skills were nowhere near Jenny's level. In fact he'd only managed to piss off the older lady in Kensington as he'd tried to turn on his charm to win her over.
Lester had blocked out the reporter's brabble the moment she had brought up the fact that he was trampling on human rights to information. So when she finally stopped her verbal assault he had no clue what she’d been talking about.
Assuming it was still the same idiotic rubbish, Lester cocked his eyebrow, leaned in close and whispered in a saucy voice,"If you don't back off immediately I’ll pull some strings to get you arrested for jeopardizing our national safety."
The woman's face crunched up and she glared daggers at him as if he had just deeply insulted her.
"Fine. Suit yourself. You arrogant bureaucrats are all the same really. As if buying me dinner would have killed you. That article about the strange, glittering light in the air will be published. Now I'll make sure of it. And I'll have a word with the Home Secretary about your tendency to threaten members of the free press next time my father goes golfing with him. Have a nice day!"
After the reporter had stormed away angrily,Lester rubbed his temples with a wince. The headache was full-blown now and he was already seeing flashes behind his eyes.
Lester's next destination, a little house with a neatly trimmed garden looked invitingly friendly. Unfortunately its occupants didn't resemble the house's appearance in the slightest.
"My wife has seen you mistreating a helpless little animal near St. Pancras Station," Mr. Ballanger just thundered. "Don't deny it. We know how little value you civil servants place on animal rights. The RSPCA has already been informed."
Lester stared in dismay at the old couple who were accusing him and his team of animal cruelty. The helpless little animal the old hag was claiming to have seen had been a two metre long fungus on two legs.
"I'm fairly sure your eyes have been deceiving you. At St. Pancras Station we only took a man into custody who was a danger for himself and others."
"So, you’re suggesting I'm lying," the old woman muttered, upset. Giving her husband a push with her ellbow she hissed, "Richard, say something!"
"No, Mrs. Ballanger. I'm merely pointing out that your eyesight isn't the best any more," Lester answered politely.
"You are wrong. I only wear these glasses for reading. My distance sight is still perfect. And I know what I saw. I'm ready to swear it on the holy book."
At that moment Lester's mobile started ringing. A short look at the display told him a new anomaly had shown up at a junkyard. Realising he couldn't do much any more since the animal protection people had already been involved, Lester muttered an apology and turned to the exit.
"Hey, where are you going? Stop!" Mr. Ballanger snarled after he'd received another push from his wife.
"I'm sorry, but I have to leave. Something very important has been come up."
"You can’t go until the people from the RSPCA have arrived. What could be more important than animal welfare?"
"It's a case of national safety," Lester revealed in the hope that would get the man off his back.
"Don't talk to me about national safety, young man. I served in the Forces in World War Two. There were people of many occupations fighting alongside me. Cabbies, shopkeepers, milkmen, teachers. All those men were ready to sacrifice their lives to protect our country. The only profession missing at the front was the bureaucrat. You office types preferred to hide behind your desks and just give orders. And now you have the audacity to mock me. Shame on you, Mr. Lester."
Lester gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. His ears were still ringing from the expletives Mr. Ballanger had hurled at him as he had left the house. How could he have thought it would be easy to handle an old decrepit couple. Mr. and Mrs. Ballanger gave the term hale and hearty a completely new meaning.
Contrary to Lester's fervent wish, the next anomaly didn't vanish without bringing more problems for the team.
Dracorexes and knights. It almost sounded like a fairy-tale. Only in fairy tales the knights usually didn't demolish a pub and the dragons ate virgin princesses and not a daily harvest of strawberries. But since virgins were hard to come by these days it was understandable that the dragons had to change their diet.
Disgruntled, Lester stared at the amount of numbers adding up to an alarmingly high total to pay for compensation.
And to make matters worse there was still a truckload of witnesses who had seen the Dracorex sitting in the strawberry field and munching the sweet fruits. Why couldn't things ever be easy?
Lester waved the last visitor out of his makeshift office in the local police station and put the signed Official Secret Act on the stack already mounting on the desk. He'd dealt with a dozen people and now only a little boy was left. With a little luck he would be finished in a few minutes.
"No! It was a real lively dragon. And he will come back and spit fire until he’s wiped out all idiots who deny his existence."
Lester had thought he was good with children so the open hostility from the boy surprised him. But then his own kids were always at their best when he came home. He only heard about the everyday problems his wife had to deal with when he showed up at the weekends.
With a fake smile, Lester bent down to the ten year old and laid his hand on the child's shoulder in an attempt to calm the ruffled boy. "Believe me, it was only a mockup for a film. Dragons only exist in fairy-tales."
"Let me go," the little boy yelled whilst he twisted his shoulder out of Lester's grasp and struck out with his right leg.
A fiery pain shot through Lester's shin and he was barely be able to parry off the child's next kick, aimed at his crotch.
"Damian, that isn't nice. Stop that!" the shocked mother shouted.
But the boy didn't pay any attention to her and tried again to attack Lester, his face twisted into a demonic grimace.
"Damian!" the boys father, who had been waiting outside until he had heard the ruckus, yelled.
Immediately the boy froze and suddenly morphed back to the nice little boy he had been a few minutes ago.
He raced into his father's arms. "I'm sorry, daddy, but the man has been so mean to me," he sobbed heart-rendingly.
Lester shared a look with the startled mother to make sure he hadn't just imagined the whole scene. But then his shin was hurting too much to be just a figment of his imagination.
"Well, you know children and their temper tantrums. He’s currently in his rage phase," she muttered as an apology for her child's behaviour.
Over his father's shoulder Damian flashed his eyes challengingly at Lester.
"It was a dragon," he steadfastly declared.
Lester, wanting to avoid another riot, nodded in agreement. "But that has to be our secret," he whispered conspiratorially. "Can you keep a secret, Damian?"
Damian gave him a sly smile that sent shivers down Lester's spine. "Of course I can. Can you, too?"
Fuming with barely concealed rage, Lester limped towards his car. He had to convince Jenny to come back no matter what. The ARC needed a Public Relations manager. On no account did he want to deal himself with such a little monster ever again.
Back at the ARC, Lester was almost glad when Christine Johnson showed up on his screen and gave him a shark-like smile. At least with her he knew what he was dealing with.