"Zara what the hell do you mean you set up a date for me?" Claire was glaring at her assistant from across the elevator, her shoulders tense. The brunette smirked at her before turning her eyes back to her phone, answering the text from her fiancé.

"You need to do something other than work for once. You know- have conversations about something other than guest satisfaction and that new asset, the Ind… whatever name they decided to go with."

"Indominus-rex. And I do things other than work, I went out for drinks with you and your friends just last week." And she had been bored out of her mind and kept sneaking away to answer emails but she kept that to herself.

"Try last month."

"It wasn't that long ago."

"My sister was here and that was almost 5 weeks ago. Claire, sweetie, I'm off the clock now and as your friend, I'm going to tell you something you may not want to hear-"

"Then don't-"

"You NEED to get laid."

"Zara! That's completely inappropriate and not true! Cancel it. I don't date people I haven't met." She took a deep breath, willing the elevator to move more quickly.

"Yes, and you don't date co-workers or men who don't shave or men who aren't at least two inches taller than you in heels or who don't read at least 5 books for pleasure a year or-"

"Stop! I'm not interested and I don't have time. Not to mention the fact that you had no right to schedule some date for me without asking me first. So just cancel it, and don't do it again!" As if to punctuate her words the elevator reached the ground level and the doors slid open, allowing her to stride away from her assistant and into the crowd of overexcited children and exhausted parents.

"It's too late to cancel, it's in an hour and he's not the kind of guy who checks his phone for texts or emails constantly. Actually, I don't think he even keeps it with him most of the time…"

"An hour? Are you kidding me?"

"Nope! You're supposed to meet at Breakers on the north end of the resort at eight. We thought that'd be the perfect place since it's so close to your apartment and then you can't use some excuse about not being able to get there in time."

"We who? You and him? Who is this guy anyways?"

"Well, I haven't actually met him, but Zach knows him thorough a friend of his…"

"You set me up with somebody your fiancé distantly knows? You've got to be kidding me…" they had reached her car and Claire spun around to face Zara, determined to end this whole ridiculous idea but she was cut off before she could even begin.

"It's just one night. He sounds like a great guy, smart and capable just like you and he's hot. Really hot. I'd show you a picture but he has something against social media, but just trust me." Claire opened her mouth to argue again but Zara continued on, ignoring her. "All you ever do is work or think about work, and I know you love your job but I also know you're lonely so you work even harder until you don't have any time to think about everything you're missing out on. It's one date, and I swear, if it goes poorly I'll stop bothering you about being social for the next six months. Ok?" She stared silently at her assistant and friend, weighing the pros and cons in her head. Zara pestered her to come out with them every weekend, no matter how many times she had turned her down. Six months without that would be worth one night… right? And as much as she hated to admit it there was a small part of her that wished that she wasn't so isolated sometimes.

Zara read her silence as acceptance and she smiled broadly. "Perfect! Now get home and put on something less…"

"Less what?"

"Cooperate. Find something more fun. You're going to a beach bar, not a board meeting. And let loose a little!" Claire rolled her eyes at that as she got in the car, and felt her stomach clench. She tried to think back to the last date she had gone on and realized with shock that it had been close to three years ago, right before she had been promoted. When that happened work had become her whole world, but that's what she had always wanted. To be important and valued, to lead and organize something infinitely larger than herself. Making sure Jurassic World ran smoothly was the ultimate puzzle and the pieces were always changing. She absolutely thrived on it.

When a knock sounded on the window right next to her she jumped with a gasp before she realized Zara had come to stand just outside of the window with an impatient look on her face. Claire quickly started the car to roll down the window.

"His name is Owen Grady by the way. And he works with the Raptors." And there it was, another reason she hadn't been on a date since being handed the reins to the park. Nearly every person who worked on the island was, however distantly, employed by her. While the company did allow disclosed relationships, she had no interest in the insecurities that tended to come up when people realized that she was their boss's boss's boss.

"Then cancel it, even if it means that you have to go down there and tell him yourself. I draw the line at employees and you know it." Her declaration was met by a rare smile from her assistant.

"Ah, but that's the beauty of it. He doesn't work for the park; he works for InGen which you have absolutely no authority over. So there goes that excuse too! Now get going, you're hardly going to have time to change and get there as it is!" With that she walked quickly away, almost immediately putting the phone up to her ear and chatting away to one of her friends, or maybe her fiancé. The girl couldn't stand to be alone unless she was working, she was always meeting somebody or on the phone. She really couldn't have been more different from Claire with the exception of caring deeply about her career. Where Zara spent her evenings and weekends at the many restaurants, bars, and nightclubs that had followed the resorts to the island, Claire would spend the little down time she had curled up with a book. Socializing outside of work had never come easily to her, so she had chosen to simply avoid it as best she could. But tonight she had been cornered and she was out of options. Unwilling to go as far as to stand him up- mostly because she was sure she would never hear the end of it from Zara- she pulled out of the parking lot and made her way to the resort where she had a suite of rooms provided to her as a part of her position. She owned a small house on the mainland as well, but it had become more of a stop-over for the occasional meetings held in San Jose.

Time was tight by the time she reached her rooms so she quickly pulled out a light blue sundress and a pair of silver flats. Her job required her to have a certain level of presence, people needed to feel her authority as soon as she walked into a room. Looking three inches taller than she actually was helped with that, so she wore heels, but it didn't mean she liked them.

She'd be able to walk down to Breakers if she hurried, it was just down the beach a ways from the hotel. It'd be full of tourists, to be sure, but then that was the whole purpose of the island, wasn't it? A quick glance in the mirror showed her hair was still straight, though she doubted it would make it through an evening on the beach without beginning to curl. With a sigh she turned away from the mirror, there was nothing she could do about that other than try to move the date indoors at some point. A movie maybe? Not that she had any idea what was playing but it would be air conditioned at least. And it would provide a solid chunk of time where she wouldn't have to try to make conversation.

With a final sigh of resignation she turned away from the mirror and quickly left the room. The elevator ride felt endless and she became very aware of the fact that her heart was beating more quickly than normal and her stomach was in knots. She hated being nervous. In high school when she had realized how afraid she was of public speaking she had immediately joined the debate team and the drama club, determined to banish the nerves that came with having many eyes on her as quickly as she could. It had worked, but there was no club she could join to help her get past her nerves in one on one situations, especially when she didn't know what to expect, so she had generally avoided them. 'And it worked wonders' she thought to herself, 'until pushy little assistants trapped you into your worst nightmare.'

"This is ridiculous! I'm a calm, confident, competent woman. It's just a date. It will be fine." The empty elevator absorbed her words and when she didn't feel any calmer she pulled out her phone and opened the notepad app. A plan, that's what she needed. It would help her relax once she knew what to expect of the night.

20:00 Meet and Greet
20:15 Drinks- light and casual conversation
20:45 Dinner- Questions- College attended? Post- Grad? Ambitions for next 3-5 years?
21:45 Movie? Show?
23:30 Part Ways- Remember to give him your card

Claire knew it read more like a job interview than a date, but it was better than nothing and her anxiety had dropped a bit. If there was time when she reached the restaurant she'd revise it a bit. Make it more personal, less work like.

Claire walked quickly along the boardwalk, weaving in and out of meandering tourists. At one point she came upon a somewhat panicked mother and father who stood in the center of three screaming boys, triplets it looked like. They were frantically trying to calm them down, but when one of them punched another one the father appeared to give up, scooping one boy under each arm and storming off towards the hotel. The mom caught the hand of the third boy and pulled him along after the others, and Claire heard her muttering something about just wanting one nice dinner while they were here as they passed her. Silently Claire hoped they didn't fill out any surveys tonight. One comment that showed up quite often that drove her absolutely insane was that the park was 'over stimulating to small children'. Of course it was! It was dinosaurs! It was the only place in the world that kids could interact with extinct creatures, even if they didn't have all of the rides and gift shops that alone would have been over stimulating.

Before she could dwell on it too much a young woman plowed into her, causing her to stumble and struggle to hold the other woman up while she found her feet.

"Oops! Sorry!" This was followed by hiccupping laughter and she staggered back to her friends who were clearly well on their way to being just as drunk as her. For a moment she debated calling security and asking them to keep an eye on the group, it was awfully early for them to be that drunk and the park was ultimately a family destination, but when the girls filed into one of the night clubs she let it go. The bartenders were under strict guidelines to refuse alcohol to anybody who was causing trouble. The whole thing did cause her to re-think the drinks portion of the evening though. She was nervous enough, the last thing she needed was to get tipsy and turn into a giggling idiot.

When she reached Breakers she hesitated a moment before going in, wondering if she should wait outside until Owen arrived, but she knew that if she did her nervousness would take her over completely so she went inside. Hopefully he would find her. Breakers wasn't quite a restaurant, not really a bar, and kind of a club. The entire side of the building that faced the ocean was open and the tables spilled out onto a large patio with twinkling lights wrapped around the lattice awning that covered the space. There was a set of stairs that led to a dance floor and a live band was playing on a stage in the corner. Between the restaurant and the dance floor there was a large bar and she decided it made the most sense for her to wait there. Since it was still fairly early the tables were mostly full, there were only a few couples out on the dance floor, and quite a few of the bar stools were open. She scanned them as she walked up but saw no men sitting by themselves. As usual she was a few minutes early, and breathed a sigh of relief that she appeared to have arrived before him.

She chose a barstool on a corner so that they'd be able to sit more across from each other than side by side. Almost as soon as she did though her heart started racing. There was nothing left to do but wait. Wait and worry. What if they had nothing in common? Nothing to talk about? Or what if he was a complete ass? Well, if that was the case she would just leave. That thought helped calm her a little, but then the deeper fears started to sneak up from their buried depths. What if they actually got along really well? What if she wanted to see him again but he had no interest in her? What if she ended up falling for him and it didn't work out?

"Enough!" Exasperated with herself she pulled out her phone to check the time and found the itinerary she had typed up still on the screen. Inwardly she rolled her eyes at herself. It had been such a pathetic attempt to calm herself down when the reality was she had no way of knowing what to expect from the evening. She slid it from the screen and saw that it was a few minutes after eight, and also that she had several emails in her work account that hadn't been there an hour ago and her finger hovered over the icon for a moment. A small part of her wanted to give this night at least a fighting chance though and being on her phone when he got there wasn't a great way to start so instead she hit the side button to turn it off. The moment it went dark she could see the face of somebody standing right behind her reflected in the screen and she couldn't help but jump, the phone falling from her hand and clattering onto the bar.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." His voice was just a little rough and it very unexpectedly sent chills running down her spine. She turned to face him as he moved to the side and when she met his moss green eyes she couldn't find her voice for a moment. "You must be Claire. I'm Owen." Habit finally clicked in and she reached out to shake his hand. His skin was calloused and incredibly warm, and when he smiled at her she felt her stomach flip.

"It's nice to meet you Owen." He chuckled a bit and moved to sit across from her on the other side of the corner and she realized he was wearing board shorts. Panic started to creep back in… was this not supposed to be a date? Zara had definitely said date, multiple times. But maybe whoever it was that told Owen about this hadn't had the same idea about it as Zara had? Who had talked to Owen about this whole thing anyways? What had Zara said- he was a friend of her fiancé's? Or was he a friend of a friend?

"So we've got half an hour for 'drinks and light conversation', huh?" Oh god. He must have seen that damn schedule she'd typed up before she turned off her phone. To her horror she felt her face begin to turn red and she quickly shoved her phone into her purse, an easy excuse to break eye contact and try to compose herself.

"Sorry, that was… it was nothing. Forget it." He smiled broadly at her again and she silently wished he would stop it, it made it hard to think.

"Consider it forgotten." She met his eyes again and immediately felt uncomfortable. Who maintained that much eye contact with somebody they just met?

"So, how did you know it was me?" 'Oh yes, what a brilliant way to start a conversation, good one Claire.' She needed a drink, she needed to stop analyzing every little thing.

"Zach said to look for a gorgeous red head who would probably be on her phone." Wait, was he teasing her or criticizing her? He was smiling, so teasing? Hopefully teasing. "He was right."

"I was just checking the time before putting my phone away!" Oh yes, this was going just wonderfully. Being defensive was definitely going to help.

"I meant the gorgeous part Claire." His voice had softened a little, the teasing edge fading away and she felt herself blush again. She hadn't felt this off balance in years, it really alarmed her. Thankfully the bartender chose that moment to come up to them.

"Hey folks, what can I get ya? Margaritas are two for one until nine." As tempting as it was to have a drink to calm her down, she worried that she'd just end up making even more of an ass of herself if her inhibitions were lowered.

"I'll just have water." Claire looked up at the bartender and felt her eyes narrow. The woman's top was incredibly low cut and she was leaning over the bar towards Owen, smiling broadly at him. Wait, jealousy? What on earth was happening to her?

"And for you hun?" To his credit he hardly glanced at her as he ordered a beer and she sulked away with a muttered "Right away."

"Don't you drink?" Yes, she drank, but not when she was acting like a twelve year old talking to the first boy she'd ever had a crush on.

"I'm on a diet." No. No no no no no she had not just said that. She plowed on, hoping desperately that somehow he had magically missed her last comment. "So, what do you do? Zara said you work for InGen but not much else." His eyes sparkled at her and she knew he had missed nothing, but he seemed willing to go along with her obvious desire to pretend she hadn't said anything.

"I'm working with the Raptors. Officially I am 'Assessing Their Intelligence and Teamwork Behavior Patterns'." She didn't know much about the Velociraptors, they fell under the research side of the park and she dealt with the public side. The raptors were not slotted to become attractions for another five to seven years so their program rarely came to her attention.

"And how does one do that, exactly? They're too big to run mazes. Or are they still young?"

"They're young yeah, but they're full grown. And they'd figure out a maze within a few minutes, memorize it, and then hold a grudge against whoever watched them run it because they'd know damn well that person was involved."

"I doubt that, they're just animals." He shook his head at that and leaned in, dropping his voice a bit as the bartender slid their drinks in front of them.

"Believe me, they're a hell of a lot smarter than you'd think. I've trained military dogs, falcons, and I had a short stint working with a lion. These girls are so far beyond them it's not even funny. And they remember everything."

"You're training them." Her voice was incredulous as she looked at him, baffled.

"Yeah." So matter of fact, like it was no big deal that he was training extinct predators that were larger than he was.

"Like a dog? What, to lay down and roll over?" He burst out laughing at that and for a moment Claire reveled in the sound of it. He seemed like the kind of man who laughed easily and often.

"No, to hunt. But to not hunt me or anything else I tell them not to." Business Claire had been trying to claw her way into the conversation as she quickly did mental calculations. The I-Rex would be ready to release to the public in about a year, assuming the necessary sponsors came through in the next six months. Attendance would soar for about two years, before beginning to level off. Then they would introduce a new herbivore and interactive ride, bringing the numbers up for about a year. Then it would be time for another thrilling attraction, and raptors that hunted on command? It could be the perfect follow up to the I-Rex.

"How well trained are they? And how would they react to an audience? How many times do they eat in a day before they are full and less likely to put on a good show?" He was shaking his head at this point and he broke in before she could continue.

"It's never gonna happen. They've got too much pride to perform on command. They trust me, and they respect me. And those are the only reasons they choose to do what I ask."

"Pride? You're joking, right? They're just animals!"

"And you don't think animals feel emotions?"

"Instincts, yes. But complex and abstract concepts like pride? Of course not! They'd have to be self-aware for that!"

"Your parents never let you have a pet growing up, did they?" she frowned deeply at him, irritated that he was making an assumption that just happened to be right.

"My sister had a gold fish when I was five." She left out the part where she had dumped half of its food into its bowl thinking it was hungry and had killed it. He laughed at that, shaking his head.

"I'll tell you what, you come spend a few days with me and my girls and if you still think they don't feel emotions and have free will at the end of it then we'll talk about teaching them sit and roll over for one of your shows." He was making her sound like a naïve child, and she hated being placated. 'Teasing, just teasing!' some part of her mind supplied but she was too on edge to listen to it.

"Look, if it's a matter of them not being well trained enough to listen to you we can pay for experts to come in and give you some tips." The smile faded from his face as he looked at her incredulously.

"What experts? I have spent more time with those raptors than any other human in the existence of our species has ever spent with raptors. You want to talk about experts? You're looking at one of two men, in the entire WORLD, who have any idea what's going on in their heads, and I taught the other one everything he knows." Somehow, in the course of the conversation they had locked eyes with each other and now neither one was willing to look away and concede to the other. In the back of her mind Claire was wondering if Zara was insane to set her up with somebody who was clearly just as stubborn as she was. The silence deepened as the tension between them stretched tighter. Oh yes, this was going just wonderfully.

"Hey, a table just opened up if you guys would like to order food tonight." The bartender had come back up and it startled Claire, causing her to jump just a bit and turn to look where she was pointing. She missed the smirk and look of triumph that flashed across Owen's face because he was smart enough to hide it before she turned back to him.

"How about a truce? No more work talk tonight. There have got to be more interesting things to talk about anyways." She had looked away first, but he had offered her a way out of the situation. Not sure who had the upper hand now, or why it even mattered because he was smiling again and her thoughts were getting all muddled, she offered a weak smile back and nodded.

"Deal." They both grabbed their drinks and made their way to the table. At one point Claire thought she felt the lightest of brushes against the small of her back from Owen's hand, but it was gone before she was sure. It still made her shiver though. Almost the moment they sat down a waiter brought over two menus and told them about the specials, but Claire didn't really hear a word he said. She was too busy trying to compose herself. How had he managed to goad her into getting so fired up? One of the reasons she was good at her job was because she was always calm and collected, at least outwardly! She didn't argue with people, she presented her well thought out and logical reasoning and they almost always agreed with her! Debate team had taught her how to win people over to her side, something she had always been good at anyways. She wasn't used to people standing up to her, at least not since she'd been promoted.

"Have you eaten here before?" She figured that was a safe direction to turn the conversation.

"A few times, yeah. Their ceviche is really good." She glanced up at him, surprised.

"That's what I was just thinking about ordering." He smiled again, as if he knew a secret and she didn't.

"Well what do you know, we've got at least one thing in common." The playful tone was back in his voice and she had to give him credit for it. After the way she'd been reacting tonight it was brave of him to keep trying to tease her. But then, he trained Velociraptors. Brave was probably a huge understatement. His eyes warmed and she realized she was smiling at him. The moment she became aware of it she felt herself start to blush again and she quickly turned back to the menu, cursing her genes for making it so easy to read her.

"So tell me something about yourself that has nothing to do with work." Before she could answer the waiter came back and took their orders, which Claire was grateful for because she had no idea how to answer the question. She decided on the safest answer she could think of.

"I grew up in Minnesota, outside of Minneapolis. I always hated the winters there. That was a huge draw for me when I moved here, not having to deal with below freezing temperatures ever again."

"Does your sister still live there?" Wait, how did he know she had a sister? Oh yes, the gold fish. Wow, he really paid attention to things.

"Yeah, with her husband and two kids. I haven't seen them in a few years though." She didn't dwell on that thought, she knew it had been too long since she had seen them. She wasn't even sure exactly how long it had been, but it wasn't like she could just take a vacation, there was nobody else she trusted to run the park for a week straight. Besides, the boys were coming to visit her in three months, she'd see them then.

"I haven't made it home for a couple of years either. My brother is getting married in the fall though and I'll be going back for that."

"Where's home for you?"

"Montana. My family has a ranch up there." Of course they did. Nothing about this man suggested city boy.

"A horses and cowboy hats kind of ranch?" he laughed and admitted that yes, he did own a cowboy hat and even cowboy boots back at home.

"I always wanted to travel though. But, it's hard to make a living on a ranch and there was no money for me to go to college, much less travel. So I enrolled in the Naval Academy. It seemed like a great idea at the time, school and travel all in one, plus I was paid to do it."

"A great idea at the time, do you regret it now?" Something flashed through his eyes and Claire realized how incredibly personal of a question it was and wished she could take it back.

"No, I don't believe in regrets. If I hadn't joined up I wouldn't be here having dinner with you." She stared at him, fighting a smile.

"Corny. Really corny."

"No no no, I don't do corny." He was smiling broadly again and Claire couldn't help but smile back. "That was smooth. Clever. Witty, even." At that she laughed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry to tell you, but it was cliché and corny."

"Well you thinking it's cliché is pretty cliché in and of itself."

"What?"

"Everyone always says lines like that are cliché but nobody ever realizes that what's even more cliché is that people think they're cliché. I mean think about it, there a ton of different lines that get labeled as that, lots of variety, and variety isn't cliché. But finding a line corny and cliché happens way more often than any particular line being used. So you thinking its cliché is even more cliché than what I said." He looked so smug and proud of himself, and Claire just sat there for a moment blinking at him.

"How long have you been carrying that idea around with you?"

"I just came up with it. I'm witty, remember?" This coaxed yet another laugh from her and she realized that she had laughed more tonight than she had in weeks.

"Well I'm sure you won't let me forget it."

"Damn straight." They lapsed into silence and Owen took a long drink of his beer, his eyes never leaving her face. "What's your favorite book?" The question surprised her, she'd never been asked that on a date before.

"It depends on the genera. I've never been able to pick just one."

"Ok, classics."

"The Great Gatsby." He rolled his eyes at this and leaned further across the table, closing some of the distance between them.

"Seriously? Daisy is one of the cruelest women ever written, and everyone dismisses it as not her fault because she's weak." Wait, he had read Gatsby? He was right about Daisy though.

"I like the book, not Daisy. It evokes so much feeling, so much hope and disappointment, sadness and loss… I like books that move me, even if they're ultimately sad."

"I suppose you like Wuthering Heights too then, since it's basically the exact same story but in a different setting." She frowned at him for a moment, thinking, before her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock.

"Oh my god, you're right! Cathy is Daisy! Heathcliff is Gatsby! They're even both told through the eyes of the outside narrator who's the neighbor!" He laughed and she continued to stare at him, dumbfounded. She had been a literature minor in undergrad and she had never put that together. Who exactly was this man? Thankfully their food arrived while she was trying to wrap her brain around the fact that two of her favorite books were the same story and that she had never seen it before. And that a Velociraptor trainer had been the one to point it out to her.

"You'll have to get used to it."

"To what?"

"To me blowing your mind. It's going to happen. Often." His eyes were locked with hers and his voice had dropped an octave or two, causing her to flush yet again.

"We'll see." Oh yes, such a witty come back. How on earth did this man have her so flustered? He simply smiled that 'I have a secret you don't know' smile again in response.

"What's your favorite book? And I swear if you say On The Road I am walking out of this restaurant right now."

"What do have against Kerouac?"

"Nothing, but you want to talk about clichés? Almost every man I've ever talked to pulls that one out as his supposed favorite. Alcohol, drugs, and destination-less meandering. It's like it's the most socially accepted yet still intelligent sounding answer so it's what every guy goes with."

"Talk to a lot of men about their favorite books do you?"

"Well, no. Not a lot, but enough."

"How many?" He was never going to let her get away with anything was he?

"A few."

"So three?"

"Yes, fine. Three."

"Including me?"

"No I'm not including you because you haven't answered the question yet."

"So three men, total, ever, have told you their favorite book was On The Road and now you assume all men must think exactly the same way and have exactly the same opinion?" He was teasing her again, but she could tell there was more to this conversation then it seemed. He was trying to figure something out about her, but she didn't know what it was and it made her uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat, her eyes glued to the food in front of her, when she suddenly realized how quickly he had turned the whole thing around on her and trapped her. She felt her eyes narrow and her shoulders square as her gaze snapped back up to him.

"100% of the men who I've talked to about their favorite book have answered with On The Road and 100% of those men did not in any way impress me with their answer. So Owen, tell me, what is your favorite book?"

He smiled at her, looking almost impressed. "The Stranger."

"What?"

"You know, by Camus."

"I know who it's by thank you. I'm just surprised, I haven't met many people who have read it."

"Surprised, or impressed?"

"Impressed." And she was. Impressed and completely hooked. She wanted to know more about him. She had a hundred different questions battling it out in her head right now, dying to be asked. She wanted him to tease her and lock eyes with her and make her feel like she was spinning out of control. And god did she want him to touch her. He hadn't so much as brushed hands with her since they sat down and it was starting to irk her. Not that he wasn't touching her, but that she wanted him to so desperately. She didn't indulge in things she craved. She didn't like it when things had any power over her. Not chocolate, not wine, and definitely not Velociraptor trainers who didn't know how to dress for a date. Wait, maybe he wasn't touching her because he didn't think this was a date. She never had figured out what he thought this night was. He had called her gorgeous, that suggested date. But he'd worn board shorts. Not a date. He'd ignored the bartender- date. He'd teased her. A lot. She didn't have a brother but didn't brothers tease their sisters a lot? So… not a date? He hadn't touched her since the hand shake, not a date. She cared. She really cared and really hoped that it was a date and she hated that she really cared and really hoped. She had to get control of this situation, of herself, somehow. Before she had a chance to figure out just how to do that Owen broke through her thoughts.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a question, it was more of a command and it sent her heart racing.

"What?" she blinked a few times, trying to gather her thoughts. Control, need to get control of the situation…

"Dance with me." Again with the low, firm, and yet entreating voice that cut straight to her core. He stood up then and moved around to her side of the table, towering over her with his hand out in invitation.

"You're wearing shorts." Yes. Brilliant. That was the perfect thing to say. That was definitely going to help her get control. She cringed internally, sensing that he would see right through the attempt to keep the lead.

"Well then it's a good thing dancing has no rules about what you wear when you do it. Or don't wear for that matter." His voice had dropped again and suddenly the scales in her mind shifted. He asked her to dance… date. He was being suggestive and… her mind tried to supply the word sexy but she wouldn't let it go that far. Either way, date. She met his eyes and he smiled at her, and before she could stop herself she raised her hand to meet his. As warmth enveloped her palm he pulled her up, smiled broadly, and turned to lead her to the dance floor without letting go of her hand. Half way there she remembered that she was actually terrible at dancing and she felt herself begin to panic. She was awful at letting the man take the lead, it always turned into a tiny power struggle that was in no way graceful or comfortable. The one man she had come close to marrying had told her that if they ever tied the knot they were eloping because he refused to dance with her in public. He'd gone as far as to tell her she was emasculating him by not letting him lead. She had tried, she just couldn't let go enough to trust him to guide her.

"Wait, this isn't a good idea-"They had reached the dance floor at this point and he pulled her into the center of it, maneuvering easily through several other couples as he did so.

"Yes it is. If you get any further into your head tonight something in there is going to break." She frowned and opened her mouth to argue but before she could say a word one of his hands came to the small of her back and he stepped into her space, standing so close they were nearly touching. His other hand caught hers and she took a shaky breath, trying to find the willpower to step away. His scent flooded her… leather and sunshine and something deep and spicy and she found herself running her free hand up his arm to his shoulder. His very broad, very strong shoulder.

He smiled his secretive smile again and suddenly they were moving. It was a slow song, sensual, the kind you danced to pressed close together before moving on to other activities that involved being pressed together… Claire's mind supplied her with an image of Owen sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders and down her arms before lowering his head to the place where her neck met her shoulder- no! She shook her head slightly, trying to rid it of the image, but it was nearly impossible. His hand on her back felt like it was on fire, and the warmth was radiating out through her at every point of contact. It was making her dizzy, fuzzy… to her surprise he was leading her effortlessly. How was he doing that? Just thinking about it caused her to stiffen, start to pull away, miss a step, but rather than trying to force her along with him like men had done in the past his fingers started tracing little circles low on her back and she melted against him.

Just like that, and she was putty in his hands. She didn't want to think, didn't want to analyze it, she just wanted to be here on this dance floor with him for as long as possible. And that absolutely terrified her. People couldn't be depended upon, they never did what she expected them to do. She couldn't trust them, especially not when her emotions were involved. Emotions were a giant unknown that would swoop into her life and take over if they were strong enough. She had lived her life in a way to avoid that unknown as much as possible. She did what was safe, carefully considered every decision, spent time with people who didn't have any chance of hurting her because she never felt very much for them. Her heart started racing frantically, adrenaline flooding her body. Fight, flight, or freeze? It was too much, too real. If she cared this much now, how much was she going to care a month from now, a year from now?

"Just relax Claire, let go." How the hell did he know what she was thinking? She stiffened and pulled away from him, ripping her hand from his grip as he didn't release it easily. "Claire…"

"Let's just go finish our food." He voice came out a lot more harshly than she intended it, but before she could say something else to soften it Owen made a sound that sounded something like a growl and began rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

"Why? So you can keep sitting there convincing yourself there's nothing between us? Analyzing every damn word you say?" How? How could he see straight through her like that? She'd just met him and he knew her better than her ex's had after years.

"That's not- I'm not doing that. You shouldn't make assumptions-"

"Some things can't be planned or analyzed or controlled! They just have to be experienced. Just let yourself feel SOMETHING." The words hit her like a punch in the gut, momentarily stealing her breath. How many times in her life had she heard that? How many times had that phrase, or something like it, been hurled at her like a mace, meant to punish her or break her? They were words that would send her rushing back behind every wall she had ever built to protect herself. It was the worst possible thing he could have said to her. She felt her face become a mask, her shoulders straightening and her chin coming up, her eyes distant and cold.

"You don't read people as well as you think you do Mr. Grady. And I don't need to convince myself there is nothing between us because as you so kindly pointed out, I don't feel anything. I don't know what Zara was thinking when she arranged this, we have nothing in common and we live in two very different worlds." They stood facing each other, both tense, and after a couple of seconds of it Claire couldn't take it anymore.

"It was nice to meet you Mr. Grady." She started to turn away, but the smallest, tiniest part of her was hoping that he would reach out and stop her, but she just heard him sigh heavily behind her.

"You're too damn stubborn for your own good. Come find me when you stop lying to yourself. I'll show you how to have a good time." It took everything in her power to not to turn around and slap him, but the last thing she wanted to do was cause even more of a scene then they already had. She walked as quickly as she could to the table with her cheeks burning, caught the strap of her purse and pulled a few bills out of, dropping them on the table without looking back.

Author's Note: I saw the movie, then saw it again and again, and can't stop thinking about these two. I'm obsessed. And I'm so glad there are a few others out there who seem as inspired by this pairing as I am! This was originally going to be a much shorter one shot, but Owen's side of things is demanding to be written too so now I'm not sure. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it!