As Claire walked out of the bar, she heard hurried footsteps behind her. She rolled her eyes and braced herself for a fight. Of course, Owen had more to say. He couldn't just leave it at accepting her proposition. So much for ending the night on the high ground. When she turned to face him, he had a wild look in his eyes.
"You're crazier than this crazy mission if you think that I'd join if anyone other than you was asking," he snapped. "And, you are completely insane if you think that you're only here because of my connection to Blue." Their bodies were close. Too close for Owen's comfort. He could feel her breath and smell her intoxicating scent. He might break down. He promised himself he wouldn't touch her. He'd fall back under her grip if he did. To an extent, he was kidding himself. He was still under her grip. Otherwise, he'd never have agreed to her psychotic rescue mission. The only two females on the planet that he ever loved were in peril - how could he say "no"?
Claire stared back at him with a blank expression. She was willing herself to give nothing away. She missed him so much more than she wanted to admit. It's why she came to make a personal plea. She wanted to see him. A phone call or an email wouldn't suffice. She also fully understood her effect on him and needed to know if that was still intact. She should be smug, standing on the sidewalk with him heaving over her. It proved he'd still take risks for her and was still drawn to her. For the first time, however, it scared her. The bond between them was something deeper and stronger than she ever imagined. Despite everything, they both felt that magnetic tug toward each other. Could they walk away again after this operation? Should she?
She swallowed hard and breathed out before responding, "I know why we're really here." Her body and husky voice betrayed her. He was melting her, and she yearned for his touch. Her knees were close to buckling. He looked smug but also angry. What was that all about?
"So," Owen growled, "answer my goddamn question." Claire knew which question. She wanted to ignore it earlier.
"I'm not dating anyone now," she sighed.
"Thank you." He turned on his heel and started to walk away from her. His pace wasn't brisk, but it wasn't meandering either. She was flabbergasted.
"You're not going to kiss me?" she called after him incredulously.
"That's not why we're here," he sneered with a vicious laugh but without turning around.
"Didn't stop you before." She trailed after him, starting to feel out of breath and increasingly confused.
"Yeah, well, I know you better now." Owen kept walking toward the parking lot behind the bar. She felt out of control - her greatest fear and what he always seemed to elicit in her.
"Wait. Owen, please." He finally turned around. Perhaps it was the pathetic lilt in her voice. No, he was playing the game right back at her. He was making her sweat. Making her want him more. Trying to level the score.
"What?" he answered plainly without fire or malice.
"I need you," Claire begged. "I can't go back there without you."
"I told you I would go." He shook his head in disbelief. Had she so little faith in him that she thought he would go back on his word? Her gaze was that of a wounded animal caught in a trap.
She stammered, "But you're..."
"Walking away from you right now?" He sighed heavily. She did think he was reneging on the deal they made. Her breathing was slowing back to normal. Owen rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You should've led with that. You're still struggling with honesty...and men who don't act how you want." He took a few steps back from her. They were too close again. He fumbled with the keys in his pocket. She said nothing. They both knew he was right. It had caused them too much trouble in the past to deny. He looked at his feet and mumbled under his breath, "Good night, Claire."
When he turned away from her this second time, she was stunned. And fearful again. She'd really done it this time. She'd really pushed him that far away. He always remained in the back of her mind. He was her fall-back guy, the relationship equivalent of a "safety school." It wasn't fair to him, but it gave her comfort to believe she could come back to him if she never found anyone else. If she continued to fail in relationships. If she couldn't love another.
"You're not even going to try?" asked Claire, her voice cracking.
"I don't feel like getting burned again," muttered Owen, still avoiding eye contact.
"Then why did you ask if I was dating anyone?" she scoffed, wavering between rage and melancholy.
"I'm a glutton for punishment." He looked up at her. His stormy eyes betrayed the same conflict as hers. In that moment, they also shared the same wish: that she'd never reached out to him. This was too hard. Too befuddling. Sometimes, the past should stay buried, whether it's dinosaurs or exes. This was one of the reasons they struggled to "stick together for survival." She was wedded to the past. To the park. To her perceived failings. She couldn't let go. Owen let go - and gladly. He wanted a future that was fully separate from their past. They coped so differently with the trauma.
But, they needed to live in the world as it truly was. A world where dinosaurs roamed once more. A world in which they stood facing each other again. They needed to live with their choices, hers to reach out and his to accept. He hoped someday they could meet in the middle. Tonight, however, he already agreed to her request. That was all he was willing to do for now.
"We gave up on us," Owen said solemnly. He wanted to be catty but decided that it wasn't the time to place blame. They futilely played the blame game many nights before. Falling back into bed together on several previous occasions also hadn't changed the trajectory of their relationship - much to his chagrin. Now, they were embarking on a new mission together and needed to be clear-headed.
Claire knew with her brain that ending the night here was for the best. After all, wasn't the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results? Perhaps Owen was right to accuse her of being insane. No, they shouldn't hook up now. Maybe not ever again. That thought made her heart ache. It also reminded her of her cruelty to him the last time it happened. He must've recognized her internal debate.
"Go back to your hotel room," he demanded. Neither moved. Neither wanted to be the first to break away. It was a microcosm of their relationship.
"I'm sorry," she sputtered, "for what I said...last time." It was Claire's turn to avoid his eyes.
"So," Owen said bitingly, "you DON'T think we're incompatible everywhere except the bedroom?" For some reason, this made her want to giggle. She looked up at the man before her. This man she knew so well, on so many levels, who knew her in all the same ways. Happy memories flooded her conscious mind. There were incompatibilities, for sure, but every journey brought her back to him.
"Well," she teased, "we didn't always have sex in a bedroom." He cracked a roguish smile. She didn't realize how much she specifically missed that. She stopped herself from reaching out to touch him. She simply smiled back and whispered, "Good night, Owen."
"Good night, Claire." He said it clearly and convincingly this time. They turned away as if synchronized and without a backward glance. There was promise in that amicable farewell because it was different for them. Different good. Good and sane.
Thanks so much for reading. I originally intended it to be a longer, smuttier piece. When writing, however, this outcome felt more real. Please review and let me know what you think!
Aside: I keep stalling on finishing Playoff because I'm sad to end it. Playoff and this one-shot are likely to be my last Clawen pieces until after Fallen Kingdom releases.