Okay, this chapter kind of got away from me, and wasn't at all what I thought I was going to write when I started. But, oh well? There's really not been much of a plot in this yet, and to be honest, I'm not sure if there will be. Depends on if inspiration strikes again, and if so, with what. :) If you've got any ideas, pass them along.

It was approaching 8 pm when Claire directed Owen through San Francisco to her apartment. She hadn't moved to the city with DPG until after she and Owen had... broken up? Parted ways? Both left each other and were left by the other? Well, whatever happened, it meant that Owen hadn't been to her place in the city yet.

Earlier, when they'd stopped for dinner at a McDonald's (Maisie's request), Owen had suggested they head to his cabin. Claire had shook her head, reminding him that it wasn't finished yet, and it would be super squishy fitting the three of them in his trailer. Besides, as he'd pointed out earlier, DPG was going to be important going forward, and she needed to be there to lead.

While Owen wasn't excited about being in the middle of the city, he'd agreed with her reasoning (for now), while watching Maisie scarf down her fries and drink, but wrinkle her nose as she bit into her burger before pushing it aside. He'd chuckled to himself, having already watched Claire uncomfortably trying to pick something to order, while he didn't hesitate on his two Angus burgers and fries. It wasn't his first choice for a meal, but he wasn't picky after not having had much to eat the past 48 hours. Besides, with the state of their clothing, they couldn't afford to be to picky - they needed something with a drive thru so they wouldn't have to get out.

Soon they were circling a few blocks, looking for some on street parking near her building. Claire didn't have her keys (and, to be honest, she wasn't sure where any of her stuff had ended up), so they couldn't get into the parkade under the building. Thankfully though, the building had a doorman, and she knew they'd let her in.

On their third circle of the block, they managed to catch a car pulling away from the curb, and grab the spot, Owen comfortably maneuvering the car on the steep incline. Claire was thankful it wasn't her driving.

The moment the car was in park and the engine was switched off, Claire was moving - unbuckling her seatbelt and pushing her door open. It wasn't until she was standing on the sidewalk about to shut her door that she realized there had been no other movement from within the car.

She bent down to peer back inside, one hand resting on the top of the car, the other on the door she'd been about to close. Owen was sitting stock-still, one hand still on the steering wheel, the other around the keys that were still in the ignition. A quick glance into the back showed that Maisie was still asleep, explaining her lack of movement.

"Owen?" Claire said his name softly. He didn't move. She repeated it, louder this time, and he slowly shifted his gaze towards her, eyes flickering between shock and sheer exhaustion. "Hey, can you help me with Maisie?" She nodded towards the backseat, and that seemed to startle him out of his stupor, as his gaze followed hers. "She'll be more comfortable on a bed."

Owen nodded his agreement, before finally moving to unbuckle himself and open his door. Once she was sure he was moving, Claire carefully shut her own before opening the backdoor beside Maisie. As she was reaching out her hand to gently shake Maisie's shoulder and wake her up, Owen lightly grasped her arm.

"Don't," he shook his head. "I've got her." And he reached into the car, carefully pulling Maisie out, gathering her in his arms.

Claire grabbed the car keys from him, shutting the door and making sure it was all locked before leading him to the front door.

"Good evening Ms. Dearing," the doorman greeted her, pulling the door open and standing aside. His gaze traveled over the three of them, and she knew it was a testament to his training that he didn't blink and his expression never changed.

"Hi George," Claire gave him a real smile, happy to see him, by far the most normal part of her last 48 hours. "It's been... It's been a weird day and you're going to hear all about it tomorrow. But, for now, I'm hoping you can let me into my place - I've misplaced my keys."

"Absolutely Ms. Dearing," George nodded, closing the door behind Owen before leading them towards the elevator, already pulling out his key ring and flipping through them looking for hers. "Do you need a new key?"

"No," Claire shook her head as they stepped into the elevator, hitting the button for the 8th floor automatically. "I've got a spare in my place."

A few minutes later, she waved good-bye to George, shutting the door behind her, and turning around to see Owen standing still just a couple of feet away, Maisie still sleeping in his arms.

She slipped out of her shoes and watched as Owen copied her, toeing off his own, before she led him through the small living area towards a door that was mostly closed.

"I don't have a guest room, and well, San Francisco's pricey, so I don't really have a lot of space," she winced as she looked around her crowded space, DPG paraphernalia scattered about. A few years ago she would've been aghast at the thought of living like this. But, as it was, she couldn't justify a bigger space, what with being on her own and running a non-profit. She was already paying extra because she'd liked the idea and security of having a doorman. She pushed open the door, switching on the light to the bedroom. It was the least crowded part of the apartment, boasting a queen size bed, dresser, closet and a couple of nightstands. She was a big believer in the rule that bedrooms are for sleeping and not working, and so she kept hers clutter free.

Walking around the bed, she pulled down the covers, before gesturing to Owen to lay Maisie down. He did, and they carefully pulled off Maisie's shoes before Owen pulled the covers over her, tucking her in. Maisie turned on her side almost immediately, burrowing deeper into the covers, a small sigh escaping her lips. Owen and Claire exchanged smiles, gazes caught on each other.

Claire pulled away first, moving business like towards her dresser and closet, poking around in both, pulling out a few items. "C'mon," she waved him back out to the main area, turning the light off and closing the door behind them as they left, leaving it open just a crack.

Back in the living room area, Claire turned to Owen, handing him a couple of clothing items. "I'm dying for a shower, and betting you want one too." She blushed slightly, looking away from him before continuing, gesturing at the clothes in his hands. "I, ah, I have a pair of your sweats and a t-shirt."

Peeking up, she saw Owen finally glance down at what was in his hands, separating the two items. "Oh," a small chuckle crossed his lips, "I thought I'd lost this shirt." He glanced over at her. "Should've known that you'd steal it."

"I didn't steal it," Claire denied, eyes immediately searching his out.

"What do you call taking something that's not yours?" Owen gave her an amused smile.

"I didn't," Claire huffed, looking away for a second, arms on her hips. "It was in my things. I just... I hadn't got around to getting rid of it yet."

For a second Owen looked a little offended, before his smile grew brighter. "You can admit it, it's only the two of us here. You'd never do that; I bet you've been wearing them! You always did love my clothes."

Claire's mouth opened to reply, before snapping shut. She waved her hand towards a second door off to the side, "the bathroom's over there. There's clean towels under the sink."

"You can go first," Owen immediately backed up, it was her place after all.

"No, you go ahead," Claire shook her head. "Now that I've got access to my email, I need to check up on a few things." Before he had a chance to say anything else, she'd headed over to a small desk below a window, where a MacBook was sitting closed on a pile of paperwork.

Shaking his head, Owen decided it wasn't worth arguing about, and headed into the bathroom. A shower did sound like a great idea.

Owen was in the process of yanking down his t-shirt and pulling open the bathroom door, after spending longer than he'd like to admit in the shower, when he heard a small voice cry out. He quickly moved back into the living area, towards the bedroom, almost colliding with Claire at the door.

She stepped back, letting him lead the way into the room towards Maisie, as she flipped the lights on behind him. She was surprised to not immediately see Maisie, expecting her to be sitting up in bed. But soon enough, she realized that Owen was sitting himself down next to a trembling bundle under the covers.

"Hey Maisie," Owen let his hand rest solidly on the comforter over her small frame. He knew, from past experience, that the solid pressure of his hand on her back was a good way to ground her back in the present. He waited a few seconds for her trembling to soften, before speaking again. "Hey, do you think you can come out?"

The covers moved again, but this time it wasn't the shaking from fear, but a more definite head shaking "no."

"Okay, that's fine," Owen gave a quick rub with his hand, before letting it rest in the same place. He glanced back to see where Claire was, finding her just inside the bedroom door, looking completely unsure as to what she should be doing. Even after reconnecting with her nephews, he knew that she still felt uncomfortable around kids, never sure how to act.

Catching her eye, he whispered, "She was hiding in her bed from the indoraptor when I found her."

Claire's mouth opened in a wide 'oh', before falling shut, not actually sure how to respond to that. Somehow she looked even more uncomfortable than before.

Internally grinning to himself, but making sure he didn't let Claire see any hint herself, he used his other hand to wave her back towards the door. "Can you grab us a glass of water?" He didn't miss her relieved look as she practically bolted out of the room, happy to have a task.

He turned back to the lump under the covers. "Come on Maisie, let's get you out from under there." He pulled gently at the covers, not surprised to find immediate resistance as the young girl held desperately to them. "It's just me and Claire here Mais, you're safe." He gave another light tug, this time finding less resistance, and was able to pull them down just enough for her eyes to peer up at him. "Hey," he gave her a soft smile. "How're you doing in there?"

"Where am I?" Maisie's eyes darted around the room, before settling back on him.

"We're at Claire's place," Owen said. "She's just gone to get a glass of water."

"Got it," Claire's voice interrupted him, as she stepped into the room. She held out the glass to Owen, eyes darting down to catch Maisie's. "How're you doing?"

"Okay," Maisie replied, finally lowering the covers a bit more, so her entire head was visible. She then slowly sat up, taking the glass Owen was now holding out for her.

As the covers fell down towards her waist, Owen was reminded that while he'd showered and changed, Maisie was still wearing her outfit from earlier, and probably wasn't feeling quite so comfortable. "You know, I be Claire's got something you can change into."

"Oh. Yes!" Claire quickly darted towards her dresser, pulling open a drawer. Owen almost missed the hesitant look she shot him, as she tentatively reached in, before pulling her hand back.

"What?"

Claire blushed, before reaching in more assertively and pulling out a shirt he immediately recognized as another of his own.

"Just how many of my shirts did you steal?!"

"I didn't steal any!" Claire hotly denied. "This one's mine."

Owen took a closer look at the shirt she was holding as she approached. He realized now it was a dark blue Navy shirt that Claire had taken an instant liking too when they were together. Once she'd found it, he'd never had a chance to wear it again, and so he'd started jokingly calling it hers. It had never ended up mixed in his clothes after that, always finding a home in her drawers. He was going to make another comment about it, but really, he was more pleased than anything to realize she'd kept some of his stuff.

"I thought you'd grab some of your own clothes?" he gestured towards Maisie. "That's going to be huge on her."

"That's the point," Claire rolled her eyes at him. "My clothes will just be awkwardly sized, but this," she held the shirt up in front of Maisie, "will be more like a night gown." She winked at Maisie, before looking over at Owen. "You're gigantic." To her relief, Maisie let out a chuckle at that, reaching out for the t-shirt, which she happily passed over.

"Hey!" Owen had grasped his hands over his heart in a mock offended pose. "I'll have you know that I'm the perfect size. Like Goldilocks."

"That doesn't make any sense," Claire said, grabbing his arm to pull him up from the bed. "It wasn't about Goldilocks size, it was the chair and porridge and bed that were 'just right.'" She looked over at Maisie, who was giggling now. "We'll be just outside the door while you get changed, okay?"

Maisie nodded, watching with wide eyes as the two left the room, closing the door quietly behind them, bickering as they went. While she spent all her time around adults, they were her grandfather, Iris, and Mills, and none of them ever acted remotely like these two. She wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Out in the living area, Claire had dropped her hand from Owen's arm the moment they left the room, taking a couple of steps away from him unconsciously. It wasn't that she was uncomfortable around him, not really. It was more she wasn't quite sure how to act around him, now that they seemingly were being thrown into a position of taking care of a child, while also having to deal with the fall out dinosaurs roaming freely around California. It was a lot to deal with all at once.

"I don't know why you get so worried," Owen spoke up.

"What do you mean?"

"Maisie. Kids. You," Owen looked between the door and Claire. "You're so much better at this than you think you are."

"I-" Claire was cut off by the door opening behind them. Maisie was standing there wearing Claire's (well Owen's) shirt, her left shoulder escaping through the neck hole, and the shirt hanging well below her knees. "Perfect fit," Claire ended up saying instead and giving Maisie a big smile, who smiled back.

Owen clapped his hands together in front of him, bringing their attention to him. "Well Mais, what do you feel like? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired?" He then bent down as if to whisper to her, although it was clearly loud enough for Claire to hear. "Although, I got to be honest, I don't know what the food situation will be like. Claire's got some... interesting tastes."

Maisie giggled at that, while shaking her head, "Not hungry."

"Yeah," Owen gave her a nod. "I think what we could all probably benefit from is good nights sleep."

"I'm not tired," Maisie insisted, but it was quickly interrupted by a yawn.

"Right," Owen gave her a wink. "Now, I'd suggest we put on a movie, but Claire here," he looked over at her, "doesn't believe in TV in the bedroom."

"There's a lot of research-" Claire started, before Owen cut her off.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I've heard it all before."

"I don't watch TV," Maisie's comment had Owen swinging his head wildly in her direction. "Well, I mean, grandfather and Iris didn't let me." She smile started to drop.

Owen moved forward, directing Maisie back into the bedroom, hand resting on her shoulder. "Tomorrow, you and me, cartoons."

"Could you tell me stories about Blue?" Maisie asked as they entered the bedroom.

"About Blue?" Owen looked surprised at the request.

"I saw some videos of you. With Blue when she was a baby. And some other baby raptors."

"I'd love to tell you about Blue," Owen smiled at her. "No one usually wants to hear me talk about her."

"That's because normally you won't shut up about her," Claire mumbled from the doorway, where she was leaning against the door frame. She watched as Maisie climbed back under the covers, pulling them up to her chin, while Owen climbed on to the bed beside her, sitting up leaning back against the headboard.

"Where should I start?" Owen mused, ignoring Claire's comment.

Claire pushed herself away from the door frame. "I'm going to go have a shower." But she wasn't even sure they had heard her, as Owen had already started in on his stories.

"Blue was one of four raptors. She had three siblings, Charlie, Delta, and Echo, but they were all hatched at separate times..."

Leaving the bathroom after her shower, Claire was surprised by how quiet the apartment was. She had been expecting to hear the soft sounds of Owen's voice coming from the bedroom. Instead, there was silence.

She peaked into the bedroom and wasn't all that surprised to see that Maisie had fallen back asleep, turned facing towards Owen. Owen had slipped down from his position, and was lying on his side facing her, his hand resting on her side, and also fast asleep.

She grabbed a blanket out of the closet and carefully spread it over him, before shutting the door and heading back to her laptop. She knew she should be tired, but instead, she was feeling energized as her mind was filled with tasks that needed to be done. People to call, emails to send, lists to be made. Everything she thrived on.