This story started as a one-shot premise (shout-out and thanks to Lucy for the inspiration), but the words flowed too easily and started opening up further ideas. It took me a bit to figure out exactly where I wanted to go next. I just don't have the heart to write into film canon at the moment with Fallen Kingdom looming, so I decided to try my first AU. I don't know how long this will go, but I hope readers enjoy it.
As the Senior Assets Manager for Jurassic World, Claire Dearing didn't have a 40 hour work week. She didn't have weekends off. It wasn't shift work either. She was expected to be available 24/7, and she thrived on that. The job was most akin to being a President or Prime Minister. She knew, however, that she was much more hands-on than a typical head of state. Part of that was the uniqueness of her position - something that absolutely thrilled her - but another part was her controlling nature. Claire had significant difficulty delegating. She could easily employ three assistants for the breadth of her duties, but she only wanted one. It hurt her brain to imagine juggling three different people, especially when she only trusted herself to take care of the majority of her work. To ensure that everything was done right and to her standards.
Subsequent to all of this, Claire didn't have a personal life. Not that she really minded. Work fulfilled her enough. Having such a powerful position gave her far greater satisfaction than any man ever had. She admitted fully to over-identifying with Queen Elizabeth I of England. She always admired the ginger monarch in childhood, but her desire to emulate her stemmed from the movie Elizabeth starring Cate Blanchett. She saw it during her senior year of high school and never felt that she understood any historical figure better. Elizabeth's accomplishments were achieved through raw strength of character and disallowing others from having a physical or emotional hold on her. The way she bucked traditional gender roles inspired Claire, too.
Claire learned early on about the continued unfairness of gender roles in society. She had always been smart. It was a source of personal pride, but combined with her other qualities - fierce independence, competitiveness, tenacity - it did not help her make a lot of friends or attract suitors. Her closest and, honestly, only true friend in high school was a boy, Steve, who had similar qualities. Steve, by contrast, never had a problem getting dates. Before they went their separate ways for college, Claire asked Steve to sleep with her. She wanted to lose her virginity to someone she respected and trusted. She also didn't want it hanging over her on campus like a scarlet V. She wanted to get it over with.
Claire got a "typical" first time experience, and that was all she wanted. It was a relief. Afterwards, she didn't romanticize it or Steve. She never romanticized sexual intercourse. It wasn't ever particularly important to her. This didn't mean she was asexual. Her guilty pleasure was reading especially dirty historical romance novels. It was a primitive escape from her heavy load of honors courses in high school and college. She got herself off manually after reading. Her college roommate gave her a vibrator as a gag birthday gift one year, and it turned out to be one of the best presents of her life. Claire would later upgrade it to the Jack Rabbit.
Her dalliances with men in college, grad school, and in her adult work life never lived up to her fantasies or the orgasms she achieved on her own. She also became increasingly judgmental of women and men who turned into blubbery messes in relationships. Over time, the idea of a committed relationship with someone held no lure for her. Claire was aware of being described as "ruthless" and "frigid" in her work and personal lives. She didn't give a shit. She had almost single-handedly molded Jurassic World into a profitable, safe, and wildly popular vacation destination unique in all the world.
Simon Masrani took a chance on her after seeing her potential as an intern, and neither one ever looked back. Thanks to her success with the park, Masrani and InGen started a research division on the island to explore further potential benefits to having dinosaurs roaming the earth - beyond entertainment. It was then that Claire was introduced to Owen Grady. He was different from anyone she had ever met. It unnerved her. She couldn't keep him out of her sexual fantasies either. She chalked it up to the small pool of candidates on the island and her position of power among most its inhabitants.
Owen wasn't her employee. Their only interactions consisted of her hounding him for his monthly safety reports. He was continually expected to prove that his velociraptor project wouldn't negatively impact park operations. The reports were almost always late or only in haphazard email form, necessitating her to show up at the raptor paddock or his residence demanding a signed attestation. He delighted in pushing her buttons during these visits, trying to catch her off-guard or frankly irritate her. He was cocky, full of himself, and clearly had issues with authority. She wondered if this was why he left the Navy. Or if he was forced out of the Navy.
After a while, Claire began to wonder if Owen delighted too much in her personal visits. Their banter started as a stimulating distraction from her stressful and increasingly mundane responsibilities, but she grew uncomfortable with his attempts to knock her down a peg. He was also toeing a fine line of actually insulting her skills and intelligence. A year into his project, she asked Zara to take over this monthly task.
"You finally reached your limit with the sexual tension, then?" Zara queried with a cheeky smile. Claire rolled her eyes and considered whether Zara's teasing might be worse for her than her infrequent interactions with Owen. This was the downside to having only one assistant. Most of the time, it was a blessing. Zara knew her preferences and quirks. She could recognize Claire's moods and anticipate problems to limit her boss' stress. This time, it was a curse. There was also no point in pretending.
"He's infuriating," Claire answered firmly, biting her lip. She had already vented to Zara repeatedly about her annoyance with the raptor trainer. Zara had always rewarded her with salacious gossip about him. Owen had a reputation for casual sex on the mainland with Masrani employees who lived there as well as local women. In truth, most of the employees lived on the mainland. Very few people needed to be "on call" for the park and report quickly to their duty sections. Most worked shifts in the island or the 9-to-5 grind at the administrative offices in San Jose. Claire, Zara and Owen were among the exceptions who resided on Isla Nublar itself.
"He's single again," Zara related tauntingly with an enormous grin.
"When is he not?" Claire responded cattily with another eye roll.
"He and Hannah are finished for good this time. Alec said she's seeing someone in HR, and it's serious." Hannah was an on again, off again conquest of Owen's who worked alongside Zara's fiancé, Alec, in the accounting department. Alec was Zara's chief source of gossip.
"Well," Claire tutted, "I'm sure Owen is getting along just fine."
"I don't know," Zara smirked, "He might need some comforting, and I'm off the market." She looked at her boss expectantly, daring her to reveal something. Claire sharpened her gaze and pursed her lips. Zara laughed heartily, "I know you like him. I can't blame you. He's gorgeous, and we both know he'd satisfy you."
Claire scoffed, "Don't presume to know to that."
"Whatever, Claire. You could benefit from having some fun in your life, and I think he's just the man to help."
"He's helped enough women already." She cringed. "I'd feel like I was having sex with half my staff, and probably catch a disease."
"It's a valid point," Zara sighed. "Insist that he get tested first." She looked to her boss with genuine affection and added softly, "You'd be worth it."
"Thanks, Zara." Claire was wrong. Her assistant was always a blessing.
"Right then, I'll be going home to Alec now." Zara shook her head with a light chuckle as she bid Claire adieu.
Claire pulled up to Owen's bungalow more on edge than usual. She was thrown by Zara speaking to her so openly about her attraction to him. Claire wished that he'd still been at the paddock and not already at home by the time she was making her visit. Barry could tell that she was irritated when they spoke briefly at the paddock. She detected a hint of amusement in his demeanor, too. It reminded her of Zara's mischievous reaction. Claire tried - and failed - to feel less on edge.
Owen was fishing off the end of the small dock on the lake beside his property. Claire appreciated the slight tilt of his head as she stopped the car. He continued fishing while she assembled the clipboard and pen. She knew he wouldn't keep any writing implements outside. Hell, he might not even have any inside the ramshackle dump he called home. No wonder he consorted on the mainland, she mused for not the first time. What woman would want to come back to that hybrid tin can shanty? She took a deep breath and watched him for a moment before opening her car door. He removed a fish from the hook and tossed it back into the lake. She smiled wistfully at a memory of catch and release fishing with her father on Lake Wissota. It helped to calm her nerves.
He didn't turn at her approach and merely recast his line. Surely, he could hear her grumbling as she traipsed across the mud. The hum of the insects wasn't that loud. Her footsteps reverberated through the wooden planks as she stepped onto the dock. Owen shook his head and let out a small snort. Claire didn't enjoy this manipulation game, but she needed to play it well. She made her way toward him slowly and deliberately, unwavering and assured. She stopped at his side, their shoulders only a few fingers' width apart. She looked out over the water, mirroring his stance. She held the clipboard with both hands in front of her waist.
"You look well," Claire said. Her voice dripping with disappointment.
"Should I not?" he asked with surprise. He stole a quick glance at her. Claire didn't move but noticed his alluring lopsided grin with her peripheral vision.
"I was hoping you'd be devastated by Hannah moving on." Her words had bite. She'd never spoken any words of a personal nature to him before. She felt emboldened and smiled on the inside. Her exhilaration spilled out in the form of clicking her heels on the dock.
"Nah, we were just fucking." Owen was nonchalant and callous, not skipping a beat. Claire finally turned to him and couldn't hide her disgust. "Not your jam, huh?" His tone was taunting. She felt her pulse quicken. He'd caught another fish and was releasing it back to the water. "I suppose I should be holding on to these suckers and cooking them for us before you'd even consider that."
Claire stepped back from him and scoffed, "Us?" Owen turned to face her and rested his pole on the top of his shoe. His gaze flickered sultry then rested at playful.
"Not into that either?" he groaned with exaggerated frustration. "Damn. I guess you expect to be fully wined and dined - maybe a red carpet - before giving it up." She wanted to slap him but wouldn't give him the satisfaction. It was the first time he made such blatant innuendos. The first time he suggested that there was something between them beyond pissing each other off. Of course there was. It was there from the beginning. She just wished he'd chosen to finally acknowledge it in a less vulgar way. That was truly disheartening to her. On the bright side, it diminished the previously unrelenting fantasy. Claire simply cocked her head to one side and held out the clipboard.
"Your signature, Mr. Grady." Her impatience was obvious. Owen didn't move at first. He stared at her with a blank expression. She couldn't tell if he was disappointed or challenging her to say more. He was the first to look away.
"You're terrible at dirty talk," he said flatly while adjusting the fishing pole and taking the clipboard out of her hands. She made a show of checking her watch and tapping her foot while he initialed each page and signed at the end. She snatched it back from him the instant that he dropped the pen back on the clipboard.
"Thank you," Claire hissed sarcastically. She tossed her hair before stalking down the dock.
"See you next month," he called out to her when she stepped back onto his squishy lawn. She could almost feel his Cheshire Cat grin on her back.
"No, you won't," she hollered back without stopping or turning. "I'm not one of your fish." Claire was angry. She could now admit that she liked their slow burn flirting, but he let her down. Owen truly was a Neanderthal. He wasn't the wild stallion of her romance novels who just needed a strong woman to tame him. The dissolution of her fantasy wasn't the bright side, unfortunately. Her heart ached as she walked toward her car. The only bright side was that she likely saved herself from chlamydia.
He probably thought she was bluffing. Claire could tell that he wasn't galloping after her. It was the last straw. She was done with him. Sending Zara in her place wasn't the answer. If he couldn't bother to follow the rules, she wasn't going to keep letting him get away with it. She would stop making an exception for him. Stop tolerating his recalcitrance because she was hot for him. She would start treating him like any other disobedient employee. She would go to his supervisor the next time he failed to submit a signed report. Claire laughed to herself. Yes, Owen could face Vic Hoskins instead of her. The idea was simply delicious.
Thanks for reading. I'm going to make this one more fun and less angsty than I usually go - I hope that's okay!