Author's Note: Hello! My name is Dani. I'm (not so) new around here. I wrote quite a bit a few years back under a different (but similar) nom de plume for X-Men, The Mummy and Batman. I forgot the password on that account and can't remember the email address I used to sign up, so there's that. I have recently caught the writing bug again, after an extended hiatus of creativity. I guess I'll start all over so here goes.

As a standard disclaimer, I own next to nothing. Claire and Owen and other Jurassic things do not belong to me.

Please read and review if you wish to. This first chapter is a lot of narrative exposition, so my apologies for the slow start. Things get more exciting. I mean, how could they not?

Cheers,
Dani

Virunga

Chapter One: The Incident

"I'm just not sure if this is the best option," Claire sighed, placing her fork and knife down gently on her half-finished plate of herb-crusted salmon and grilled zucchini. Owen, sitting across the table and over a rather large serving of medium-rare rib eye, shrugged thoughtfully and began cutting another piece of steak.

"It is, Claire," he said, popping the slice of meat into his mouth, "This is the way it should be. Dinosaurs living with dinosaurs and not being used as tourist attractions. You know, a place of their own." He paused, swallowed, and took a sip of the red wine they had ordered with dinner before continuing, "And you never know," he said, "Some people have more money than they know what to do with."

"You're right," Claire nodded gently before taking another small bite of her salmon. A smirk played upon her red lips. "And don't talk with food in your mouth," she raised an eyebrow at Owen, who grinned back and took another bite of steak, making a larger than necessary show of chewing politely. Claire watched amusedly and took a sip of her own wine as the conversation petered out. She began to silently muse on the future of what had once been her only love, what had once been Jurassic World.

Owen was right about the future of the things. He was correct in saying that the best decision had been made. Isla Nublar would be turned into a protected natural habitat, owned privately, and run by a team of dedicated professionals; trainers, veterinarians, if the term could be applied, and of course, Owen. He was in a league of his own. Most importantly, no rides, no shows, (mostly) no tourists, and no accidents.

'But', a dreadful little voice filled the back of her mind; 'They are dinosaurs and shouldn't exist in the first place.' Claire frowned inwardly and berated her inner pessimist. The fact was that the dinosaurs did exist and should continue to do so, for science and for the sake of…well, for the sake of being alive.

Claire and Owen had returned to the island numerous times since what they had deemed the incident. On many of those visits they had been accompanied by lawyers, reporters, and often by their new beneficiary; the woman who had purchased Isla Nublar and was setting up a sanctuary for the should-be-extinct reptiles.

Her name was Hazel Barry. Fifty-six years young, as she insisted, tall and willowy, with close-cropped chestnut coloured hair. Hazel seemed "legit" enough, at least according to Owen. She had been married to a professor of bioengineering from Stanford who had died rather young a few years prior to the incident. Hazel herself was a veterinary expert, specializing in big cats and currently working at the San Diego zoo. Her husband had inherited a ridiculously large sum of money as a young man, which had been passed on to her, and was now being used to purchase Isla Nublar and employ both Owen and Claire. Owen would go back to handling and training the animals, keeping them healthy and happy. Claire would be doing what she did best, organizing. She was to organize appointments with donors, expeditions, and (very rarely) tours for small groups of 'tourists' who were paying a lot more than the fifty-dollar front gate price the theme park used to charge.

Owen and Claire were out to dinner celebrating the fact that the transaction between Masrani Corporation and Mrs. Barry had been completed just that morning, bringing with it the end of a tedious fourteen months of inquests, hearings, public and private interviews, and, for Claire, an unending cycle of reliving the worst day of her life. And that was just the daytime hours. At night, it was nightmares, cold sweats, grinding teeth, and general difficulties getting any rest. Yet, somewhere in between all that madness, love had managed to creep up and into Claire's distracted mind and arguably dusty heart.

Well, love. Love was a relative term and perhaps not the best word to describe the feelings between Owen and Claire. She certainly enjoyed spending time with him and the comfort his smile brought her on those sleepless nights. And he certainly came to appreciate her fiery temper and surprisingly understanding attitude - after all, he had become quite the unwilling viral celebrity after the incident and Claire had helped keep him going every time someone asked about his raptors and the role they had played in defeating the…in the incident.

Yes, Claire and Owen enjoyed each other's company. And, if truth were told, they also enjoyed each other's bodies. But each was hesitant to admit, inwardly and outwardly, that what they felt was love. Perhaps it was fear that circumstance was what had brought them together and was the only thing keeping them together. Perhaps it was because Claire had never been sentimental and Owen had admittedly used the word far too loosely in his past.

Owen chewed thoughtfully on a piece of steak as his mind drifted to the island. It was still difficult to let his thoughts wander there. He had still not fully come to terms with the loss of Charlie, Echo, and Delta. Blue was still there, lonely and missing her pack. Despite what many seemed to believe, Blue was intelligent enough to understand that her pack had been killed. For a social animal like the raptor, this was not an easy thing to cope with. Owen made it a point of visiting Blue as much as possible and providing her with several bloody treats each time he did. He had also taken it upon himself to speak to their new beneficiary about hatching more raptors to keep Blue company and had been given approval. Claire, of course had shown hesitation at first, but Owen had come to expect that. Claire showed hesitation about everything. It had taken her fifteen minutes to decide between the Caprese salad or the salmon and as soon as their waiter had stepped out of earshot, she began regretting her decision. It could be trying, but it was also endearing. Claire, just by virtue of being Claire, reminded Owen to slow down and think about things before jumping to action.

As such, her hesitation about more raptors had allowed Owen to think over his proposal for three entire days before he had built a strong enough case to present Claire with; a case that had ultimately won her approval - and not without a little help from his patented puppy dog eyes.

"Want to go to the Everglades tomorrow?" Owen broke the silence that had temporarily fallen, glancing up at Claire who had been staring over his head and out the window. Her eyes travelled back to his and she smiled widely. Owen couldn't help but to match the smile.

"That sounds great."

Owen and Claire had been spending their non-island time in Florida, renting a modest condo until the day on which they were to officially return to Costa Rica; a day that was getting rapidly closer. The Everglades were definitely Owen's favourite place in Florida for many reasons, but mostly because the alligators reminded him of smaller, less deadly versions of his raptors.

"It'll probably be the last time we have a chance to head out there," Owen commented.

"Probably," Claire agreed, "The gators are going to miss you."

"Obviously," Owen grinned cheekily, "Wouldn't you?"

Claire rolled her eyes. 'Yes,' a voice inside her head answered for her, 'I definitely would.'