Y'all must think I died. I had about 2/3 of this written AGES ago, and then I started a full time job and before I know it, it's been like, six years. Oopsies.

Let me know what y'all think, and please don't crucify me for the long wait.

6:48 PM: I would love to have dinner with the girl gang

It took Erin little over an hour to come up with a decent enough response to Owen's text. She took twenty minutes to think about it, drafted a few answers, and when they didn't seem worthy of sending, she would think about it some more. Texting with boys was an art, and Erin was rusty.

Her dating life never really left the college stage, where it wasn't even really dating. In college, you find a guy, start "hanging out", and then eventually you become a couple. Maybe he'll order a pizza or buy drinks at the bar, but it definitely wasn't traditional dating. Through all of high school, undergrad, vet school, and three years in the field, Erin could count all of the dates she had on one hand. In college and vet school, everyone was a poor student swimming in debt. And there weren't any Olive Gardens in the field.

But Erin was almost thirty, and she liked Owen, so she resolved to get her shit together.

Owen's response came ten minutes after Erin's. Erin wondered if he was busy or if he was playing it cool, trying not to seem too eager, like she was.

6:59 PM: I haven't taught them table manners yet. Was thinking just you and me.

She liked his sense of humor. Erin spent a lot of time surrounded by serious people. Well-educated, brilliant people, but people who didn't have a lot of fun.

7:02 PM: We'll bring them a doggy bag. Erin shot back. She then tossed her phone onto her bed to go take a long-awaited shower. She was used to quick showers thanks to years at summer camp and sharing too small of a water heater with too many roommates while in school, and then working in the field where showers were a luxury.

After drying off and getting dressed, Erin snatched her phone from atop her bed and read Owen's response and she headed into the kitchenette to pull together some sort of meal.

7:07 PM: You still coming tomorrow? Erin remembered her promise to come back and check on the raptors. She sent back a quick answer, approximating her visit at around noon or so, depending on how the rest of her rounds went and how the brachiosaruses were doing. After that the texting was done and Erin ate her meal of baby carrots from the bag and a peanut butter and honey sandwich in her bed before falling into a heavy sleep.

The next morning was filled with checking in at the Gentle Giants barn. The mass adverse drug reaction seemed to be all under control. The lab had come up with some sort of concoction to counteract the effects of the first drug. They were keeping the formula a secret, much to every doctor's dismay.

Since she wasn't really needed in the barn, Erin checked out a Jeep form the garage and made her rounds, saving the raptors for last.

Erin's estimated arrival time at the raptor paddock was way off. She spent way longer than she thought she would at each exhibit. None of the handlers reported any different behavior in their animals, especially after intense questioning form Erin. She wanted to see for herself that the animals were OK, and carefully inspected and observed each animal. She didn't leave for the raptor compound until almost 3.

Erin parked her Jeep at the end of the row of all of the other vehicles, like she usually did. The compound was quiet. She could see a few men in the shed, working on who knows what. Another man was working under the hood of a beat up old truck. Apart from that, the place was deserted. Erin assumed everyone else was probably in the office.

Rather than finding anyone, Erin made her way to the staircase leading up to the catwalk overlooking the paddock. The bottom of the stairs had a chain clipped across the handrails in an effort to deter unauthorized usage. Erin was probably technically unauthorized, but she had a job to do, so she maneuvered herself under the chain and headed up the stairs quietly and quickly.

Before fully emerging onto the catwalk, Erin slung her backpack off one shoulder, letting it hang off the other as she searched it for her clipboard and pen. Once it was out, she repositioned the bag and stepped up onto the catwalk, ready to observe and take notes.

The paddock was completely still, except for the soft ocean breeze ruffling the foliage. Erin couldn't see the raptors, but she knew they could probably see her. She waited patiently for pack to get used to her presence and to continue on with their normal behavior.

Standing up on the catwalk put Erin in full sun, and soon she was sweating. The light breeze didn't do much to help. Erin pulled her sunglasses off and rubbed her arm flat against her face, using the sleeve of her shirt to mop up the sweat. She replaced her sunglasses, and heard rustling in the leaves below her.

Erin didn't have to wait much longer to hear chirping and hissing, and soon one of the raptors slowly emerged from the brush. Her head was low, in a predatory stance, eyes on the stranger on the catwalk. Erin knew immediately that it was Blue based on her coloring. Blue was the easiest to pick out of the group.

Blue stalked forward a few more feet, and then the rest of the pack emerged from the camouflage of the enclosure. The pack studied Erin carefully, but quickly lost interest. She wasn't doing anything but standing there.

Charlie and Delta broke into a scuffle that Echo quickly joined. The paddock was suddenly alive with activity and noise as the animals played.

Erin made quick notes without looking down at the paper, not wanting to miss anything the animals did. Writing without looking, and doing it legibly, was a skill Erin taught herself a long time ago, and it came in handy all the time.

Everyone seemed to be acting normal. Or as normal as Erin could tell. She still didn't know much about velociraptor behavior, but nobody seemed to be in pain.

"Hey!" Erin heard someone yell. She hesitated to turn her attention away from the raptors to look back behind her. Someone was standing at the base of the stairs, but she couldn't tell who. They were obviously talking to her, though. "You can't be up there!"

Erin rolled her eyes and ignored the man, turning her attention back to the playing raptors.

"I'm not kidding! Get down from there!" the man continued to yell, catching the attention of the raptors. They ceased all movement and quirked their heads in unison at the sound of the man yelling. Erin took note.

The man unclipped the chain from the stairs and let it fall against the metal of the stairs, making a loud clanging noise, setting the raptors even more on edge. They started chirping towards each other, communicating what Erin assumed was probably a plan of attack.

The man stomped loudly of the steps.

"Authorized personnel only are allowed up here!"

"Would you shut up?" Erin hissed at him as he neared the top of the steps. The man paused in his movement and his face took on an offended expression.

"You need to leave right now," the man said loudly, obviously in a show of authority.

"Are you new? Shut the hell up. You don't yell around wild animals, asshole," Erin scolded the man in a much quieter tone, though her anger was quite clear. The man looked livid and made a move to escort Erin down from the catwalk. She stepped out of his reach and rolled her eyes again.

"Hey!" another male voice called out, catching the attention of both Erin and the man on the catwalk with her. They both turned to see Owen crossing the compound at a quick jog.

"What's going on?" Owen asked, taking the stairs two at a time. The man looked at Owen, relieved to have backup.

"I came out here and noticed this chick up here, and she's resisting," the man explained to Owen.

"Get out of here before I feed you for lunch," Owen sighed, causing Erin to chuckle and the man to blanche.

"What-"

"She's supposed to be here, she's the vet," Owen explained to the confused man, leading him back to the stairs.

"You're a little late," Owen said to Erin once the man was gone.

"Believe it or not, these aren't the only dinosaurs on the island," Erin joked, smiling.

"They're the only ones that matter," Owen replied, settling next to Erin and looking out of the paddock at his pack- his girl gang, as Erin coined.

"Don't be a stage mom," Erin warned jokingly. Owen obviously cared deeply about the pack of raptors in the paddock below.

"Sorry about Greg, he's really into rules," Owen apologized a moment later. Erin shrugged, used to that kind of treatment.

"That's OK, I was breaking a pretty big one. Probably should have told someone I would be up here," Erin said. Going near a paddock alone, with nobody knowing, was potentially dangerous. If something did somehow go wrong, nobody would know until it was way too late.

"Good thing I showed up then," Owen answered, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Yeah, good thing you're doing what you're paid to do," Erin teased.

"Speaking of, how do they look?" Owen changed the subject, turning his attention back to the raptors. They had since lost interest in the yelling man.

"I don't see anything unusual if you don't," Erin replied.

"Good. We've been watching them closely. We checked them this morning, checked their stool, all that glamorous stuff," he explained.

"Lucky ducks," Erin chuckled.

"So, Sunday night," Owen segued, leaning back against the railing.

"Talk of raptor shit reminded you of that? Don't I feel special," Erin laughed, teasing him.

"I know how to charm the ladies," Owen chuckled. Honestly, he really did know how to charm the ladies. Erin could tell he was good at it. "How's 7?"

"Good. Sunday's my day off," she answered. Erin had both Sundays and Mondays off, but she refrained from mentioning the second day, trying not to give Owen any ideas.

"You get some of those?"

"Let me guess, you have days off, but you work through them," Erin said, leaning against the railing next to him.

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

"You're a workaholic, I can spot it a mile away," Erin explained, smiling.

"Takes one to know one, I think," Owen replied. He smiled boyishly and squinted in the harsh sunlight. His shirt had bad pit stains and his facial hair glistened with sweat, and Erin could smell it easily, but sometime a few years ago, that smell stopped being so repulsive. The sweat stains were a mark of hard work. You only got them if you earned them, and Erin admired good work ethics. The smell of animal and sweat wasn't exactly good, but it was comforting to Erin.

"I need to get back and process a bunch of reports," Erin finally said, breaking the silence of just smiling at each other.

Owen walked Erin down the staircase and across the compound towards her Jeep.

"So Sunday at 7. I'll come get ya," Owen confirmed as he opened the door of the Jeep for Erin. She smiled up at him as she took her seat.

"Sunday at 7," Erin repeated with a nod. Owen grinned at her as she closed the door and watched her drive away. Erin was actually pretty excited for a date with Owen. She liked seeing him at work; they always got along well and joked easily. Plus she already knew that they had at least some physical chemistry. She was glad that their drunken first encounter hadn't made things awkward.

The week ended quietly, the most exciting thing being the arrival of a large package from back home. The package contained a whole mess of goodies. Erin's mom had packed bags of her favorite candies, a tin of brownies, and cups of easy mac. She also included nice shampoo and fancy makeup that Erin would never buy for herself. Her mother always tried to push higher quality products on her, but makeup wasn't practical and shampoos with too heavy of a scent tended to attract unwelcome bugs.

Along with the candy and food, there were a few brand new work shirts, and a sack of new socks and underwear. So far the box was just like care packages that Erin got while she was in school. Her mom seemed to think that she was incapable of getting her own socks and candy, but she appreciated the gesture anyway. Getting packages was fun, and it pleased her to know that her family thought of her.

At the bottom of the large box were large masses swaddled in bubble wrap. Erin tore through them, revealing four picture frames from her mom. The larger bundle of bubble wrap contained a stack of three paintings from her little sister.

Erin was thrilled at the new decorations. For so long, her apartment bore empty walls, and she was sick of staring at just the beige paint. The picture frames were decorative wooden frames, hand painted in colorful patterns. Erin placed three on the bookshelf in her living room, and placed her favorite of the four on her dresser in her bedroom. It was a picture of her and her sister, Taylor, aged thirteen and four, sitting atop one of their horses together.

Despite their age difference, Erin and Taylor were close, though they didn't see each other as much as they would have liked. Erin was already in vet school by the time her sister started high school, and now that she was at Jurassic World, Taylor was at college in New York.

Taylor was a talented painter, and had always been skilled and creative. She had sent Erin a colorful landscape painting of the view from the back porch of their family's home. Erin grew up in the country on a large piece of land, their house built on top of a hill overlooking the property. Erin recognized the other two paintings as old school projects of Taylor's. She hung the landscape above the sofa, and the other two above the dining table-turned desk pushed against the far wall of the living room.

The package and impending date had Erin in an amazing mood all through the rest of the weekend. Jurassic World was starting to feel like home. Her last job had been amazing, but sharing a cabin with five other people in the middle of nowhere Africa sometimes felt more like a never-ending summer camp. Erin didn't have her own space, and alone time almost never happened. Even more rare were romantic prospects. Everyone was in everyone's business. But on the island, Erin was making real, normal friendships that weren't born purely out of proximity.

Emily insisted on coming over Sunday morning to help prep a date outfit. Eric had apparently told her that Owen asked Erin out. Not that Erin was keeping that information from Emily.

"You're lucky that you look hot in just jeans and a tee, but you need to put a little more effort into it tonight," Emily explained, sitting on Erin's bed and snacking on a bag of Skittles from Erin's care package. Emily revealed that her mom sent her similar packages, too.

"Like how much effort?" Erin asked, turning from her closet to look at Emily warily.

"Well, what are you guys gonna do?" Emily asked.

"I have no idea. We agreed on dinner, but I have no idea where. For all I know, we'll be trapping, killing, and preparing it ourselves," Erin sighed. She hadn't realized until just then how little information she had to go on. She wasn't worried about it until Emily started asking questions.

"Well, he's not taking you to the cafeteria or Margsville," Emily mused.

"How do you know that?" Erin challenged.

"Because you've obviously been to both of those before and they're horribly lame date locations. If he takes you to either, just start running," Emily explained, causing Erin to laugh and roll her eyes.

"This island only has one nice restaurant. And I've seen them let people wearing cargo shorts and socks with sandals in, so I think I'll be OK in whatever I choose," Erin said, turning her attention back to her closet.

"Yeah, but you always want to look better than necessary," Emily said, leaving the bed to stand next to Erin to help inspect her wardrobe. "Ohhhh," Emily excitedly pulled out a dress.

"Owen's not a dress guy," Erin said, quickly taking the dress out of the running.

"Every guy is a dress guy," Emily retorted, putting the dress back disappointedly.

"I don't want him to think I'm dressing up for him," Erin explained.

"But you are," Emily argued.

"I can't look at these clothes anymore," Erin sighed, stepping away form the closet and flopping down on her bed.

"You can borrow something of mine," Emily offered.

"Thanks, but I'll figure it out. I always worry about what to wear all day and then it just comes to me at the last minute," Erin replied.

"Are you going to put out tonight? Consider that when you do get dressed," Emily offered.

"What does that mean?" Erin laughed.

"It means don't wear granny panties and an old bra," Emily explained, causing Erin to laugh. In her experience, guys didn't really much care about the undergarments; they were coming off anyway. But she did have to admit to the power that good underwear had on confidence.

Emily left soon after, leaving Erin time for lunch, a nap, and a luxuriously long shower. She took her time doing everything, enjoying the lazy Sunday.

Before she knew it, it was 6 o'clock and it was time to get ready. Her hair had already dried naturally, and didn't require much work. She took her time sweeping on a small amount of makeup. Even though Emily warned against wearing just jeans and a tee, Erin did it anyway. It was a basic outfit, but she at least wore her nice, dark wash jeans and one of her better shirts, a flowy, light grey tank. Tan lines be damned.

There was still lots of time to spare, so Erin pulled out her one pair of nice sandals and sat down on her couch, dropped the shoes next to her feet on the floor, and pulling a book onto her lap.

Erin got caught up in reading about herpetology, and when she looked up to check the time on her phone, it was 7:05. Cursing, Erin threw the book against the couch cushions, grabbed her keys and shoes, and ran out the door. She struggled to slip on he sandals in the elevator, and when the door dinged open on the bottom floor, she had only managed to get one completely on. Erin rushed out of the elevator before the doors could close, and there form the bay of elevators she could see Owen sitting in one of the chairs in the small lobby, laughing to himself as he watched Erin's struggle.

Erin sighed, gave up on her left shoe, and walked over to where he was sitting with one bare foot.

"Having trouble?" Owen asked, standing up to greet Erin as she walked up. Erin rolled her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her cheek in greeting.

"I graduated from vet school with honors, but I can't buckle a shoe," Erin laughed.

"Well, good thing we're not going far," Owen said, turning slightly and bending to pick up a bag and a six-pack of beer from the floor.

"Did you bring me a present?" Erin asked excitedly, taking the beer from him.

"I brought the best present of all; food, beer, and me," Owen smirked, stepping around Erin and heading towards the bay of elevators.

"Wait, where are we going?" Erin trotted after him. Owen pressed the 'up' button and turned to her.

"Your place. I'm cooking dinner. You're not a vegetarian are you?" He answered. Erin noticed he was freshly showered; she could smell his soap. And his clothes were also clean; a dark grey button up, worn jeans, and mud-free boots. He cleaned up well, Erin decided. Hell, she liked him even when he was caked in dirt and sweat.

"Uh, no, not anymore," Erin answered him. She had suddenly realized that her apartment was going to be a mess. She didn't think he would be coming over, so she hadn't bothered to clean up. The elevator doors dinged open, they both stepped in, and Erin hit the button for her floor.

"Not anymore?" Owen questioned.

"Yeah, I was a vegetarian for like, three years," Erin answered with a shrug.

"What made you start, and what mada ya quit?" he asked curiously. Erin laughed.

"You're gonna think I'm an idiot," Erin stalled, causing Owen to chuckle.

"I promise I won't," he reassured.

"It was during vet school, and me and some of my friends made this bet. Whoever quit had to by everyone else lunch," Erin explained. "And I'm really competitive."

"So you won?" Owen asked, amused by the story. He had seen Erin's competitive side enough to be entertained.

"By a year," Erin answered proudly.

"What made you quit?" he asked.

"I moved to South Africa. It was too difficult to have any sort of dietary restrictions," Erin answered as the elevator doors dinged open on her floor. She led Owen down the hall towards her apartment.

"Can you wait here for like, five minutes?" Erin asked sheepishly as she stepped up to her door, keys in hand.

"Is it a mess in there?" Owen asked knowingly, smirking down at Erin.

"Just a little bit," Erin shrugged nonchalantly.

"I guarantee that I've seen worse. I used to be a teenage boy," Owen laughed. Erin stood her ground though, and didn't move to unlock the door. Owen shifted the bag from one hand to the other, and reach out and grabbed the keys from Erin's hand. "I got meat in here, so I promise to go straight to the fridge and I won't look so you can shove embarrassing things in a closet," Owen compromised as he unlocked the door. Erin huffed out a 'fine' as she followed him into her apartment. He kept his word and went straight for the kitchen, and Erin immediately rushed to the bathroom where she had piles of towels and dirty clothes on the floor. She scooped up the piles, threw them in the bathtub, and drew the curtain closed. She swept everything that was on the countertop into an open drawer, and slammed it shut as she raced into her bedroom. She quickly made up her bed, shoved shoes and clothes into the floor of her closet, and moved on to the living room. She pushed stacks of books out of the way, and tried to clear off her dining table-turned desk. Owen was working at the island separating the kitchen from the living area, watching Erin pick up with an amused smile.

"I'm not usually this messy," Erin excused herself once she was satisfied that things were clean enough. She at least didn't have any dirty underwear scattered on the floor anymore.

"My place is always a wreck. I'm never there long enough to clean, and when I am there, I'm too tired to do anything," Owen explained.

"Exactly!" Erin agreed as she stepped up to the island to watch Owen work.

"Whatcha makin', chef?" Erin asked as she leaned against the countertop. It was actually fairly obvious what Owen was making, but she wanted to involve herself. Owen had set out a box of spaghetti, a container of chopped lettuce and vegetables, half a baguette, a jar of pasta sauce, a bottle of salad dressing, and a container of raw meatballs.

"Somethin' really fancy," he answered with a wink. "Where do you keep your pans?" he asked, turning to survey the kitchen.

"Bottom cabinets to the left," Erin pointed. Owen pulled out a pot to boil the pasta and a pan to cook the meatballs.

"Did you make these yourself?" Erin asked, pulling the container of meatballs across the countertop to inspect closely.

"Sure did. Mom's recipe. I didn't have the time or patience to make sauce, though, so we'll have to settle for the jar," Owen explained.

"This is already fancier than anything I've ever cooked for myself," Erin said, impressed. She went to grab a large bowl for the salad Owen had already put together. She didn't have any nice salad bowls, and had to settle for a large Tupperware bowl.

"So you're impressed?" Owen asked, smirking triumphantly, causing Erin to laugh.

"I'll wait until I taste it before I pass that judgment," Erin answered as she pulled two bottles of beer from the six-pack. She opened them both and passed one to Owen.

It didn't take long for Owen to boil the pasta and cook the meatballs. Erin didn't own a colander, so draining the pasta from the water proved to be a challenge.

"It's a little soggy, but I think it's still edible," Owen assessed as he scooped portions of the spaghetti onto two plates, topping them off with sauce and meatballs. He set the plates down on the table, and Erin followed with the salad and baguette.

"I'll eat just about anything, and I've eaten way worse," Erin said as she sat down with two fresh beers. Owen picked up the baguette and ripped two chunks off, due to the fact that the only kitchen knife Erin owned was a small paring knife.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," Owen winked and shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

Erin ate the salad out of politeness, but her main focus was trained on the meatballs Owen had pre-prepared. They were simple, but good, and Erin ate five.

"I'm gonna guess that they don't have spaghetti and meatballs in Africa?" Owen asked, commenting on Erin's enthusiasm towards the food. He didn't have much room to talk, though. He had eaten twice as much as her.

"Actually we had it every once in a while. We would make huge batches for special occasions," Erin answered.

"So what did you do before coming here?" Owen asked through a mouthful of bread. Erin didn't expect him to have the best table manners, and if she was being honest, it was kind of cute.

"I did wildlife rehab at a sanctuary in South Africa for three years," she answered.

"And before that?" he pressed.

"You wanna know my whole life story?" Erin laughed and took a long sip of her beer, finishing off her second bottle.

"Actually, yeah," Owen shrugged. He had to admit that he really didn't know much about her. Barry paid more attention to park goings-on, and knew that he had been recruited, but not much else. Eric was younger, though, and had Emily to go off of, so he had supplied Owen with some information, but not much.

"Well, I'm from Texas," she started.

"What part?"

"Small town outside of Austin, called Marble Falls. My parents raise cattle," Erin explained.

"So you're a country girl," Owen smirked. He'd always had a thing for country girls, considering his background. Erin smirked back. "I bet your parents loved your vegetarianism."

"Oh you have no idea! It drove my dad crazy. Which was honestly half the appeal," Erin laughed.

"A rebel, huh?" Owen chuckled at the idea of a younger Erin pushing limits and testing boundaries. The devilish smile that spread across her face told Owen that she had some good stories. "So, then what?" he asked, prodding her back along in the conversation.

"Oh, right, life story. I did undergrad at UT, then UC Davis for vet school. Then Africa, now here," Erin summarized, ending with a shrug.

"You always wanna be a vet?" Owen asked as he stood up, taking the empty dishes with him.

"Pretty much. We had horses and stuff, too, so we always had vets coming over, and I was basically their shadow until I was old enough for summer jobs and worked as their assistant," Erin finished clearing the table and followed Owen into the kitchen.

"That's pretty cool, knowing what you want to do that young," he praised. He then turned on the sink and started washing the dishes. Erin stepped up next to him to help, handing him dirty dishes. They fell into an easy conversation about how neither one of them were very good at domesticity. With Erin standing right next to him, Owen became aware of Erin's height. He'd noticed a while ago that she was decently tall, but standing at the sink shoulder to shoulder, he realized that she was probably only a few good inches shorter than him. Owen himself was a good height, and he appreciated tall girls.

The dishes didn't take long, and they soon found themselves on the couch, opening up the last two beers Owen had brought.

Erin had been concerned that they wouldn't have much to talk about, but the conversation flowed well.

"So, uh, was it weird for you to keep running into the guy you publicly made out with?" Owen finally asked. Every time they had seen each other since their first meeting, neither had brought that up.

"I'd be lying if I said it's never happened before," Erin laughed.

"So you kiss a lot of strangers in bars?" Owen laughed along with her in a teasing tone. He really didn't care, and he actually thought it was pretty funny.

"I wouldn't say a lot, but it's happened. I wholeheartedly subscribed to the work hard, play hard philosophy in school," she explained. Owen could relate.

"That's a good philosophy," he agreed as his eyes roamed the room. It was sparsely decorated, save for a couple of cool paintings hung crookedly on the walls. His eyes traveled back to her.

Ever since that first game of pool, Owen thought Erin was pretty. Not in a classic beauty, cover girl, Hollywood glamor kind of way, but naturally pretty. She was comfortable letting her hair air dry in the jungle humidity and he wasn't super sure if she was wearing makeup or not. She was tall and lean; she looked capable. If something went wrong, or if something needed to be taken care of, she would do it herself. The best word Owen could come up with was solid. Erin seemed solid.

As they talked, Owen continued his study. She had a thin, light scar above her right eyebrow, and another at the base of her neck. He imagined she probably had a lot of scars; he definitely had his fair share. It came with their lines of work.

"Cool tan lines," Owen chuckled as he reached up to run his thumb along a band of slightly tanned skin on Erin's bicep. He thought about pulling his hand away once he realized what he was doing, but changed his mind and left it there. He wanted to see what would happen.

"I know right?" Erin laughed as she held both arms out, ignoring Owen's hand. "You should see my sock tan lines." She kicked up her bare feet to emphasize her point.

"Hey, do you want some candy?" Erin asked suddenly, turning to Owen.

"Uh, I don't know. What kind of candy?" he answered her question with another question. She slapped his thigh lightly, then pressed her hand onto his knee to use as leverage as she stood from the couch. She waved for him to follow her as she moved into the bedroom.

Owen looked around the room as discreetly as he could manage as she pulled a large box from the floor and lifted it onto the bed. She stuck her hand into the box and pulled out a handful of goodies as an offering.

"Present from Santa?" Owen joked as he took an opened package of Twizzlers from Erin's hand.

"My mom is obsessed with care packages now that both me and my sister are out of the house. The funny thing is that she never let us have this crap at home," Erin explained as she took a Twizzler from Owen's hand and bit off the end.

"This your sister?" Owen asked as he sat on the edge of Erin's bed to look at a framed photo on the bedside table.

"Yep. Me and Taylor," Erin answered, sitting down next to Owen.

Erin and Owen finished their Twizzlers in silence, both wondering what to do next. It was late enough for Owen to be a gentleman and call it a night. He did have work in the morning, after all.

"So, you wanna watch a movie or something?" Erin asked, turning to grab another Twizzler.

"OK, but nothing girly," Owen agreed, causing Erin to scoff.

"I only own four movies, and only one of them has Reese Witherspoon in it, so your odds are good," Erin joked as she stood up, grabbed more candy from the box, and led the way back out to the living room.

"Well then, surprise me," Owen conceded as he adjusted the lighting in the room and Erin pulled a case from her bookshelf.

"Do you like scary movies?" she asked with a smirk. Owen sat down on the couch, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and spread his arms across the back of the couch.

"Love 'em," he answered. Erin smiled, grabbed the TV remote, and sat down next to Owen. Once the movie started, she settled against the back of the couch and Owen's side, propping her feet up on the coffee table next to his. Owen dropped his arm from the back of the couch to rest across her shoulders, which she leaned her head against. Erin didn't seem shy to Owen at all, as she made herself comfortable against him.

Work be damned, Owen could afford a late night with Erin.

"RUN" by San Cisco