"Nobody wants domesticated dinosaurs, Henry. They want the real thing."

"That's my point," Wu said. "I don't think they do. They want to see their expectation, which is quite different."

Hammond was frowning.

"You said yourself, John, this park is entertainment," Wu said. "And entertainment has nothing to do with reality. Entertainment is antithetical to reality."

– Michael Crichton, Jurassic Park

Chapter 1

Claire trailed slowly along the lagoon, gaze turned towards the water as if she was searching for a glimpse of the Mosasaur swimming in the depths. She wasn't. She wasn't really seeing anything, to be honest. Instead, her mind was whirling a mile-a-minute and she felt unable to process, relying instead on the fact that she'd walked this island daily for over 10 years, and should be able to do so in her sleep.

Of course, tripping or falling would be just the perfect finishing touch to her night. Icing on the cake, and all.

She walked under the monorail, heading towards the Mosasaur grandstands. It was late enough that the attraction was closed for the night, and as she passed by it there were few people around, everyone drawn to the few areas that were still open along the brightly lit Main Street, or heading to the monorail platform to catch a ride back across the lagoon to the hotel. She could've done that. But the thought of being squished into a car full of happy strangers made her feel sick to her stomach.

She'd been one of them – a happy stranger on the monorail – only a few hours earlier, as she'd taken it over from the hotel to Main Street, where she and Owen had arranged to meet for their date.

God, had it really only been a few hours? It felt like days had passed, from when she'd stepped off the monorail, butterflies in her stomach. She wasn't used to that feeling. Usually, she knew exactly what she needed to do and where she needed to be. She was the master of her domain.

It had felt so ridiculous that a date was what was causing this. A date! People go on dates all the time. There's nothing abnormal about them. Except… except it was abnormal, for her. She didn't date. It hadn't been a conscious decision. It was just something that had happened, as she'd kept her head down, focused on climbing the corporate ladder as fast and as high as she could.

She'd realized, quickly, that living on an island, where everyone worked for the same company, dating was rife with unintended consequences. You couldn't get away from a person if you had a horrible breakup, unless someone chose to leave the island. And the higher she climbed the ladder, the more she felt disconnected from everyone. As she climbed, everyone looked at her differently. She was now a boss, not just another employee. She was building a career, not just working a job.

She wasn't there to party for a summer or to bank some cash for a few years, as most of the people her age were, when she had first arrived. And as she got older, she also realized that the vast majority of the island's employees stayed young – they were the ones who were cashiers and waiters along Main Street, or ride attendants and general paddock staff. Those who were her age, were more specialized. Scientists. Veterinarians. Animal Behaviourists.

Sure, some worked more in management, like she did, but those were too closely in line with her work that she was hesitant to even consider them, their roles and jobs overlapping. Not that any of them had ever approached her. At least, not that she knew of.

Zara had commented, one day, that she was envious of the attention that Claire got from men. "Everywhere you go, guys are always giving you doubletakes. I don't know how you're not out on dates all the time."

And Zara would know. As the keeper of Claire's calendar, she had a pretty solid understanding of Claire's freetime (of which there was precious little) and what she did with it (catch up on sleep). She'd push, occasionally, trying to convince Claire to go out on a date. To "live a little." To "stop being so uptight." And, once, "you just need to lower your standards."

She had hated that comment most of all, and her thoughts about it must have been pretty clear on her face, because Zara had backtracked quickly, and agreed that she should be able to find someone at least close to her standards.

To be honest, Claire didn't know that men were looking at her. At least, not in the way that Zara had implied. She felt constantly scrutinized, but it was always more over her work. The being a "woman in a man's world" issues that were inevitable and more apparent the higher she climbed.

Once, just once, when she was younger, back before she'd gone to Nublar, when she was in university and wondering why her friends seemed to be able to find people to date and she was left on the sidelines, she'd tried online dating. She'd set up a profile, struggled to choose a couple of pictures, and then it all ground to a halt. The site had wanted her to answer a series of questions, like "what side of the bed do you sleep on?" and "favourite type of kiss?" and she'd been unable to answer them, blushing as she realized that she was too "naive" or "innocent" or "pure." No matter how you phrased it, it had all meant the same thing to her – that she was a failure.

She thought she'd figure out how to flirt, but she hadn't. She could never tell when someone was flirting with her, and, even if she had, she had no idea how to do it back. So she was left approaching all situations as if they were a business meeting, her boundaries so firmly in place that when Zara would mention, later, that so-and-so had been flirting, she'd be shocked. She was confident in her work, but that confidence didn't translate over to confidence in her personal life.

She wasn't sure what it was about Owen Grady that got through her defences. She thought it was his bluntness. He didn't beat around the bush. He had been very upfront about asking her out on a date. She hadn't had to decode if he was flirting or not. Hadn't had to try to grasp the nuances of something she didn't understand.

And, most of all, she had felt desired. It was a feeling she'd never felt before, but there had been something in his gaze, as his eyes had swept over her once, before steadily holding hers, that had almost caused her to blush. Afterwards, she had thought that maybe what she'd felt in that moment was what people meant when they would talk about the "giggling school girl crush." She had said yes before her brain had a chance to catch up with her mouth, surprising herself (and Owen, if she'd interpreted his reaction properly). But he'd beamed at her immediately, asking for her phone number so they could set something up and she'd rattled off the digits, fighting her instinct to say she'd get back to him later. She knew if she did, she'd never follow up, as her brain would take over, letting doubt and logic and reasoning creep in.

He wasn't a Jurassic World employee, employed through InGen instead. But both companies were owned by Masrani Global, and that was enough of a link for her to still be hesitant. They were also so different. She knew that. Had known that, even when he'd asked her out. They had run into each other near the labs, Owen there to consult with Wu about something to do with the raptors and Claire on one of her regular rounds. The area was employee only, so if she hadn't known who he was (and she prided herself on knowing who everyone who worked on the island was), it wouldn't have been hard to find out. And when he'd greeted her by name, before she'd offered up hers, she had know that he clearly knew who she was. And yet, he'd asked her out anyway. She could hear her sister's voice in her head saying "brave man," before following up after a moment with "or stupid."

"Arghhh," Claire growled loudly, before cutting herself off, looking around quickly to see if there was anyone around. But there wasn't. She was now alone walking beside the lagoon in the area between the mosasaur grandstands and the hotel. It was an area rarely travelled, as there were no other attractions in that space, and it stretched a fair way.

Had Owen been stupid, asking her out? Or had she been stupid, taking him up on it? She was in her 30s now, after all. If she hadn't figured out dating by this point… was she ever going to?

No. She was being to hard on herself. It was her first date in… god knew how many years. She shouldn't have expected it go perfectly. Probably shouldn't have tried to plan for that, either. Of course, that reminder just made her feel worse. The printed itinerary she had carefully worked on was now crumbled up in the bottom of a garbage can along Main Street.

When she'd pulled it out – after she'd got over her shock of seeing him in board shorts, and wondering if she had misinterpreted their plans and if it really was a date – he'd laughed. Said they didn't need a plan, they could just "wing it." Claire didn't know the last time she'd "winged" anything in her life. She had got to where she was because she planned. He'd crumpled it into a ball, tossing it into a garbage can as they headed down Main Street. She'd almost asked where they were going, but she hadn't been sure she'd like the answer.

It had all gone downhill from there.

They had ended up in Margaritaville, and he'd had the audacity to order them drinks before asking what she wanted. Maybe that impressed others, but it didn't impress her. She knew what she liked. She didn't consider herself picky, exactly, but she also didn't think it was worth consuming food or drink that she wasn't going to enjoy. She'd made a comment about tequila not being part of her diet, and then he had taken that to mean she was on a diet, and asking if the salads there were okay, or if they needed to go somewhere else.

She had almost left at that point.

She hadn't known much about Owen before he'd asked her out but she'd done her research. She'd looked up his employee file (she hadn't actually been able to see much, the boundary between InGen and Jurassic World blocking her access) and had asked some subtle questions around a few people she knew were good sources of the island gossip. She'd found out that everyone who worked with him enjoyed it. That he made the work feel rewarding and fun, even during the challenging days and weeks where it felt like no progress was being made. That he was friendly and a "guy's guy," ready to grab a beer after work or catch a game. That he had chosen to live in essentially a trailer (although he supposedly called it a bungalow) out by a small lake, far from the rest of the employees. But that he wasn't a hermit, more just someone who enjoyed his solitude. And that he'd been on the island for coming up on three years now.

They'd also mentioned that he was known to be a bit of a ladies man, although the information as to what exactly that meant, had been a bit sparse. But, from what she could gather, it wasn't bad. It wasn't that he was constantly seen with different women or that he treated them badly. And the word cheating had never come up. It seemed to be more that women gravitated towards him; that there was something about him that exuded comfort and safety. She assumed his good looks helped him there, too.

Claire had taken it as an explanation as to why he'd seemed so confident asking her out, and hadn't felt the need to work up to it. That he knew what he wanted and was used to easily getting it. Not that she had been hard to get. Should she have been?

It didn't matter now. Not now that it was over, both retreating back to their own corners to lick their wounds. Although, she had a feeling she was the only one who was going to feel a need to do that. He'd barely reacted when she'd bid him goodnight, before quickly turning on her heel to head anywhere but there. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. She knew the night hadn't gone any better for him, but she was still disappointed that he hadn't said anything. Hadn't given any indication that he took any blame for it starting on the wrong foot and getting progressively worse over the evening.

Was this what her life was going to be like? Underappreciated and undervalued in both work and personal relationships? Maybe men really weren't worth it.

Except… except, if that was true, why couldn't she convince her brain she was fine on her own? That she was "complete"?

She was nearing the hotel now, the bright lights and cheery atmosphere just souring her mood further. Reaching into her purse for her keys, she pulled out her phone as well. Maybe there would be a work emergency she could distract herself with. On the screen she saw a missed text message: Can't wait to hear how it went. Have fun! And relax!

Zara.

Dammit.

Could she call out sick tomorrow? No, that would be worse. Zara would make assumptions. And then she'd have to deal with those, on top of everything else. Definitely better to suck it up and deal with her tomorrow.

In the meantime… in the meantime, she was going to go up to her room and try to forget the night had ever happened. In fact, if she remembered correctly, she had a bottle of red with her name on it.

Nodding resolutely, she headed into the hotel, smiling politely at Joe, the doorman, as she passed.

Tomorrow was a new day. She could put the night behind her.

Her phone buzzed with a new message: 911 – Paddock 11

o-o-o

"So," Barry stated, standing beside Owen on the catwalk, looking down at the four raptors below, who were milling about the open area in between tasks.

"So?" Owen repeated back, raising an eyebrow in question at his friend.

"You really aren't going to say anything about your date with Claire?" Barry asked.

Owen sighed, leaning on the railing in front of him, staring at the raptors. He had known that he wasn't going to be able to avoid questions about it. It was partially his fault for having been unable to hide his anticipation about the date in the first place. Of course, his crush on the Operations Manager hadn't gone unnoticed, not that he'd managed to be all that subtle about it. And he may have said something, once or twice, after a night out drinking.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yes–no," Owen shrugged, keeping his gaze focused on the raptors. "More… not what I expected."

"Hmm, not so easily impressed with your charm?" Barry asked with a slight chuckle. "You knew she wasn't going to be like the others, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Owen stood up, turning to face Barry.

"Just that she's not the type you normally ask out," Barry held up his hands in defense. "That her expectations were probably different, more high-class and all." Barry paused, looking intently at Owen for a moment before shaking his head. "Oh, don't tell me you–"

"That I what?" Owen said defensively. "I know how to take a woman out."

"Maybe," Barry said, backing away, hands still raised. "But Claire's different. If you don't see that…"

"Go away," Owen waved him off, turning back to his raptors. He let out a shrill whistle, watching as they all paused mid action to look up at him. Well, he may not have had success last night, but at least his raptors were starting to acknowledge his leadership.

o-o-o

It was well after 9:30 before Claire stumbled into work the next morning, clutching tightly to her venti doubleshot on ice that she'd picked up from Starbucks in one hand, her phone in the other. After last night, she knew she would need all the caffeine she could get her hands on if she was going to make it through the day. Paddock 11 was going to be the death of her.

"So?" Zara asked, quickly moving to Claire's side the moment she spotted her. "How'd it go?" Zara looked at the drink in Claire's hand, her eyebrows raising. "That good, huh?"

"What?" Claire responded distractedly, skimming over an email.

"I mean, it must have," Zara said, looking Claire up and down. "But, don't get me wrong, he's hot and all, and with everything I've heard about him… I'm just surprised that you, on the first date…"

"That I what?" Claire asked, catching just the tail end of Zara's comment.

"That you slept with Owen!"

"I what?" Claire was shocked, her mouth dropping open before her gaze swept over the room that was thankfully empty. "I did not!"

"Oh," Zara's smile dropped, her excitement fading. "Then why?" She gave Claire another look up and down, gaze zeroing in on her drink.

"Paddock 11," Claire sighed. "I was there until just after three."

"Again?"

"Yeah," Claire headed towards her office, Zara trailing behind her.

"Oh no, did it interrupt your date?" Zara questioned, as they entered Claire's office.

"No," Claire shook her head, a grimace taking over. "That was long over."

"What happened?" Zara pried, concern lacing her voice. "I thought… I mean, you seemed excited about it."

"I was," Claire replied tightly, not wanting to replay the events of the previous evening. As much as her unfortunate visit to Paddock 11 had sucked, at least it had been a solid distraction from the rest of the night. She sat down at her desk, opening her laptop, before looking back up at Zara. "And now I'm not."

"What happened?" Zara repeated, sitting down opposite Claire, the concern in her voice now also apparent in her expression.

"I really don't want to talk about it," Claire stated firmly. "It happened. It won't be happening again. Let's move on."

o-o-o

It was a couple more days before Owen heard the rumours that had started circulating. He wasn't all that plugged into the gossip chain on the island, but as the population of workers was relatively small, invariably news got around. But that night he'd gone out to one of the pubs on the island (not Margaritaville) with some of the other paddock workers, and, as usual, after a couple of rounds of drinks, talk turned to the latest island gossip.

Gossip about Claire Dearing wasn't unusual. She seemed to be a popular topic, one he'd assumed was largely centered around the fact that she was female, successful and beautiful, although not necessarily in that order. The comments usually ranged from being annoyed at some new policy she had implemented to speculation as to what she was really like (most people didn't normally interact with her) to outright crass comments about how she'd got her job. Like most of the gossip Owen heard, he'd often chuckle over it before dismissing it as people just venting their frustrations, and not actual truth.

However, the gossip going around this time seemed oddly specific and, to his dismay, a little too accurate, if misinterpreted. Someone, somehow, knew about their date. He wasn't sure who started the rumours, but it wasn't him. He hadn't told anyone the details, especially after his conversation with Barry and some self-reflection. He didn't think he came off all that well over the evening, either. But whoever had started it knew that they'd been on one, and knew, with reasonable accuracy, what had happened. He was a little surprised that his name wasn't being mentioned. Then again, people seemed to prefer to gossip about Claire, and the interest in the rumors seemed to be centered around people's surprise that she had even gone on a date, and that her actions on the date just confirmed previous speculation – that she was cold and heartless.

He listened to the other guys at the table laugh over the gossip, many contributing additional stories and speculation, or trying to connect the newest information with past stories that had been shared ad nauseam before. He wasn't really sure what he should do. It wasn't like they were only laughing at Claire, they were also making fun of the poor guy who'd taken her out. If he said something, he'd probably be outing himself. Instead, he busied himself with his beer bottle, fingers pulling at the label.

"You're really not going to say anything?"

Owen looked up to see Barry sliding onto a chair across from him. He paused, before shrugging dismissively. "Why would I say anything?"

"I'm not stupid, Owen," Barry groaned at his friend.

"What can I say? They're just rumours. No one really believes all this crap."

"Right," Barry rolled his eyes.

"Hey," Owen tried to sound offended, but it came out weak. He knew Barry was right. He should be saying something. Should be setting the record straight. Showing that he really was above all this. But even knowing that he should, actually doing so wasn't easy. Besides, he was pretty sure that Claire didn't listen to gossip anyway.

"She might think you started it," Barry pointed out a couple minutes later, after the rest of the group had burst into laughter as one member pretended to be Claire on the date, acting all high and mighty.

"Yeah well," Owen shrugged. "She's going to think whatever she wants, no matter what I say.'

"You know, I'm no longer sure you deserve her."

"Yeah, me either," Owen muttered, downing the rest of his beer. He pushed back from the table, empty bottle in hand. "You want another?"

Thanks for taking some time to read this. I've got the whole story mapped out and it's working out to be a long one. I hope you'll stick with me for the journey. This chapter is definitely more clawen, but I promise lots of dinosaur stuff coming. And lots of other characters - Hoskins, Wu, Zara, Barry, Karen, Zach, Gray. :)

If you enjoyed it, please don't forget to bookmark, follow, and, most of all, drop a comment below. Your feedback means the world.