Just a short drabble inside Becker's head. Because I love him that much. Also, I don't own Primeval. I wish.

Becker lay down with a groan, the first emotional response that day. But now he was alone. Now, he could think.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think the dinosaur thing was real. Oh, he knew something was going on, the level of secrecy around the ARC project was evidence of that, but he thought it was some kind of experimentation. Windows to the past. How wrong could he be?

Softly thumping his pillow, trying to get comfortable, Becker thought about his new colleagues. Lester, the sardonic civil servant. Cutter, the stubborn Scottish scientist. Abby, fiercely protective of the creatures even when they were threatening her. Connor, the nervous technical genius. Jenny, professional unless Cutter was nearby. And the new addition to the team. Sarah. As if he didn't have enough work to do already. How was he supposed to keep up?

Sarah, the archaeologist turned tour guide. Egyptian beauty, sharp-witted, with an even sharper tongue. Intelligent, too. Her shimmering black hair…wait, no. Don't go there. Stay professional, Becker told himself. If he did this job well, he would get a promotion, it had been hinted enough. If he didn't…no, he would. He hadn't failed yet, and he didn't intend to start now, not even if Cutter hired a hundred beautiful women on the spot and expected him to guard them day and night. Which wouldn't be too hard.

Becker kicked the sheets entangling his legs, frustrated. Only here could he let any emotion escape, only here, when he was alone, safe. His private place, where he couldn't be disturbed. The place where he could be himself, where he could…wait, what was that?

Reaching onto the floor for his discarded phone and fumbling for the lamp cord simultaneously, Becker sat up in bed.

"Captain Becker," he answered the phone.

"Professional as always, Captain," came the dry voice of James Lester, already dreaded by the soldier. "There's been an anomaly alert. Meet the team at these co-ordinates," beeps issued from the mobile, "and try not to let anyone throw themselves in front of a velociraptor."

"Yes, sir," replied Becker, trying not to sound half-asleep. Lester hung up, and Becker allowed himself to bury his head longingly in his pillow for a moment before getting out of bed and dressing. Time to go to work.

This is my first forage into Becker's head. What do you think? Please review!