Getting To Know You

It was a Friday night, the end of the first week of the investigation into the Incident at Jurassic World. Claire was completely drained as she laid on the sofa, no will to rise or do anything except stare at the ceiling as she relived the gruelling questioning she'd had to undergo on the witness stand. The questions had been intense, the accusations laid bare against her as she tried to defend herself and others.

"So, Miss Dearing, you admit to this court that you knew precious little about the Indominus-Rex?" The lawyer had asked her.

"Yes, I-" Claire tried to respond.

"So why would you show and endorse the viewing of a dinosaur that you knew nothing about?"

That was just two of the many questions she had been asked for the 3 hours on the stand, but they were the two that haunted her the most. Why had she tried to show the I-Rex without knowing anything about it? That was one question that Claire didn't know how to answer. It would seem obvious that you should know everything about an asset, especially one as terrifying and lethal as the I-Rex was. But Claire had known next to nothing about it. Maybe she'd grown comfortable in her job and taken a stupid risk thinking she could handle it? She couldn't handle it. Perhaps-

There was a sharp knock at her door. Startled, Claire jumped a little, but remained lying on the couch, hoping that whoever was on the other side would get the hint and go away. There was another knock.

"Claire," a voice she knew very well called from out in the hallway, "it's me. I know you're in there."

Owen. There was no mistaking that voice. Owen was outside her door. Claire wasn't entirely sure what to think. She hadn't seen him since that day in the hangar after the I-Rex had been destroyed. She'd been so busy with the investigation, organising staff and clean-up that she hadn't seen him.

"What do you want?" She called to him, managing to bring herself into a sitting position.

"I saw you had a hard testimony today," Owen called. "I wanted to see if you were doing okay? Can I come in?"

Getting off the couch, Claire looked down at what she was wearing and grimaced. The second that she had gotten in the door, she had torn off her corporate clothes and changed into a pair of shorts and loose shirt, intent on hiding out in the hotel room where she was safe unless it was absolutely necessary to leave. She hadn't been expecting company. Owen knocked again, and Claire sighed in exasperation as she went to open the door. Normally she would be appalled at the thought of opening her door and letting anyone see her like this. But this was Owen- the man wasn't exactly known for his discriminating taste and high standards. Opening the door, Claire gave a weak smile as she saw Owen standing there with two pizza boxes between his side and his arm, and a six-pack of beer in his hand.

"Hey," he said quietly, his eyes meeting hers and a smile spreading on his face.

"Hey," she replied, "what's with the food and beer?"

"Well," Owen started as he leaned against the door frame, "after the grilling you had today, I figured you probably hadn't eaten yet. So, I thought I'd bring dinner to you."

"Beer and pizza?" Claire said as she eyed the food. Before she could say anything else, her stomach rumbled, hungry for nourishment. "That sounds great."

Opening the door wider, Claire gestured for him to come into her hotel room. Still smirking, Owen made his way in and made himself comfortable on the couch. Setting the pizza boxes down on the coffee table, he gave her a beer before opening the boxes to reveal a pepperoni and plain cheese pizza.

"I wasn't really sure if you even ate pizza," he said in an apologetic tone as he grabbed a beer for himself and twisted the cap off, "so I just got two of the plainer flavours to be safe."

"You didn't have to do this, Owen," she said as she settled herself on the couch next to him, grabbed out a piece of cheese pizza and took a big bite.

"I know. But I wanted to do it," he replied as he looked over at Claire. Their eyes met and in that moment they both felt a hot tension in the air as the weight of his words settled between them. They sat in companionable silence as they ate the pizza and drank their beer.

Before long, they had eaten most of the pizza and whatever was left had been put in the fridge for later. The pair still sat on the couch, wanting something to happen but unsure of what to do.

"Hey, you wanna play a game?" Owen asked.

"What, like I Spy?" Claire replied, her interest piqued.

"No, no, no," Owen laughed as he swung his body to face hers and she did the same, "it's a game to help you get to know someone without it being weird and awkward."

"Okay," Claire hesitantly agreed, "how do you play?"

"Simple," Owen smiled as he held his hands out towards Claire with his palms facing down. "Put your hands out like mine," Claire did so, feeling a little nervous about this game that she didn't know. "Now, the goal is to hit the other persons hand. If you hit their hands with yours, they have to answer a question. If one of us misses the shot or we flinch, then that person has to answer a question and take a swig of beer. You sure you're up for it?"

Claire nodded slowly, watching Owen's hands intently. Smirking, Owen flexed his hands a bit, making Claire pull her hands away fast.

"Gotcha," Owen said with a laugh as Claire screwed her face up, "that means I get to ask you a question that you have to answer truthfully and take a drink."

"So, what's the question?" Claire asked as she took a sip of beer.

"Well, I'll start off with the big question…What's your favourite colour?" Owen smirked.

"Oh, now you're pulling out the big guns," Claire said with a laugh.

Smiling, Owen laughed as well.

"Seriously, though, what is it?" Owen asked when she had finished laughing, his smile still etched in place.

"Blue," Claire replied with a smile, "I've always loved the colour blue."

They put their hands back between them. Claire eyed Owen, her competitive nature starting to come out. She wanted to win this game. Quick as lightning, Owen gently tapped her hand, catching her again.

"I'm really bad at this, aren't I?" Claire said with a giggle as she took another drink of beer.

"You're not that bad," Owen smiled, "a lot of people take some time to get used to it. When I was little, my older brother would always beat me at the game. I couldn't keep anything a secret for more than two days."

"So, what's my question?" Claire asked.

"Did you always want to be a theme park Operations Manager?" Owen asked with a small laugh, "Or did you want to be a princess when you were little?"

Claire laughed wholeheartedly. Partly at the face Owen was making, and also at the idea of wanting to be a princess.

"No, no, no. I'll only tell you if you promise you won't laugh." Claire said with a small laugh as Owen made his promise. "Actually, when I was really little, I always wanted to be a country singer."

Owen was quiet for a minute, his jaw clenched shut and his face was turning slightly red as he tried to keep his promise not to laugh.

"A country music singer?" He dared to ask once he thought he would be able to speak without howling in laughter. "You wanted to be a country music singer?"

"Yeah, I loved to get home and turn on the radio to sing along. I even took guitar lessons until I was about thirteen."

"Why'd you stop?"

"I guess it probably had something to do with my dad sitting me down and telling me that if I kept up with my 'little fantasy', that I would end up starving on the street. I had to get serious if I ever wanted to be a somebody in the world. So, I studied at university, got internships and climbed the ladder."

"So why kids amusement parks?"

"I guess I just wanted to hold onto that little girl dream, and be a kid a little longer. Eventually, I forgot everything except climbing that ladder."

They were both quiet for a moment, Owen trying to process what Claire had just told him. She hadn't always been an up-tight control freak. There used to be a doe-eyed little girl. Taking advantage of his distracted silence, Claire took an opportunity to hit his hands. She got him. Owen chuckled as he took a big sip of his drink.

"Okay, okay," he smiled. "What's your question?"

"Have you ever been married or engaged?"

"Nope," he answered quickly, watching her reaction, "I've never been anywhere near an altar."

"Any particular reason?"

"Guess I just haven't met the right girl."

Without warning, Claire struck out and caught Owen off guard again. Owen took another drink before putting the now empty bottle on the table.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why did you kiss me at the park?" Claire asked, and in a moment the room was filled with tension. Owen waited a moment to consider his response. "Was it just getting caught in the moment? Gratitude for saving you?"

"No," Owen answered softly, his eyes seeing right through her and into her very soul. "I did it because I wanted to. Before we went to find your nephews, you and I were two people on completely different planets. But… I saw something different when we were out in that jungle. I saw a Claire who could get down and dirty with roughest of them, who would do anything to save her nephews. You were fearless. You stood down dinosaurs in those ridiculous heels of yours."

She hit his hands again before he could say anything else.

"Would you kiss me again?"

"Yes."

"Then kiss me."

Owen did just that, as he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own. Claire welcomed him without hesitation, her lips parting in invitation. Unlike the kiss at the Park, which had felt rushed and adrenaline-fuelled, this kiss was slow and experimental. Hesitantly, Owen raised his hands and cupped her face, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He held her gently, his thumbs caressing her cheeks as he savoured every last taste that she allowed him to have. Claire moved closer to him on the couch, straddling him with one leg on either side of his hips, as Owen wrapped his arm around her waist, anchoring her to him. Claire moaned softly as she felt him pressing against her, chest to chest and impossibly close. They both wanted to be closer.

"Claire," Owen said as he pulled away from her and tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear, "what are we doing?"

"What we both seem to want," she answered as she kissed him again.

"We've been drinking…" Claire kissed him. "You're under a lot of stress with the trial and everything."

"Owen, I'm fine." Claire said firmly as she wound her hands around his neck. She could feel his patience chipping away with every kiss. "Really, I am. I just…want to be with you."

She pulled his head back towards her and melded her lips with his, trying to pour all of her need and frustration into, trying to make him understand that she wanted him.

Owen drank in the kiss. It was filled with all the things he wasn't sure Claire even knew how to feel. This kiss was filled with passion, heat and lust. It was sloppy and wet, but he wouldn't want it any other way. Moving his hands from her sides and down to her hips, he held her steady as he rose from the couch and made his way further into the apartment. As he moved, he kept his lips fused with Claire's, breaking away every so often for air before diving right back in. Claire held onto him tightly as she kissed him back, her legs wrapped around him securely as he moved them both to the bedroom. When he finally reached the bedroom, Owen kicked the door shut.

Hours later, Owen slowly opened his eyes and yawned. Feeling an unfamiliar weight, he looked down and smirked when he saw Claire sleeping on him. She had an arm and a leg thrown over his body and she had claimed his shoulder as her own personal pillow. He stayed perfectly still as he watched her sleep on him and had to suppress a chuckle as she let out a small snore and crinkled her nose. She was so cute when she slept. He watched for a moment later until a problem was brought to his attention: his growling stomach.

Groaning at the effort, he quietly slipped out from under the bed sheets, found his clothes, and went into the kitchen to see what he could find.