Fewer employee ferries ran between Isla Nublar and the mainland on weekends, so Claire plotted out her day practically down to the minute. She decided to go alone and incognito so that she had total control of the itinerary. Prior to leaving her apartment, Claire wondered if she was being paranoid or would simply stick out more by tucking all her hair under her baseball cap. She was still wary of being recognized on the mainland and didn't want her day for escape to be disrupted. Claire boarded the first ferry in the morning. En route, she knew that this early employee ferry would pass the first visitor ferry headed to the park. The first visitor ferry was always the busiest on Saturdays. The mainland town that had grown out around the Jurassic World dock would be virtually deserted for the majority of the day, like a cruise ship that's stopped in port. The first employee ferry was not busy and almost entirely populated with night shift workers returning to their apartments on the mainland. Many of those workers even spent the ride sleeping on the first deck. No one on the ferry paid her any attention as she ascended to the empty top deck. Claire typically spent the journey pacing the exterior walkway to stave off seasickness. This morning, she was quelling nerves and mentally running through the day. Claire fantasized about cafe au lait, buttery croissants, and the latest issue of Vogue at her favorite coffee shop.

Just as she was making the turn at the ship's bow from starboard to port, she heard the starboard side stairwell door open. Claire groaned that someone would be invading her solitude, but she just kept moving forward at her speed-walking pace. As she walked, she considered taking a seat in a deck chair on the port side to avoid the other employee or employees. Claire shook it off and told herself, "Damnit this your day!" She slowed her pace just a tick when she rounded the stern to try and get a good look at whoever was there. It was a man in a baseball cap, black t-shirt, cargo shorts, and aviators. He had a full beard and was leaning on the railing. Claire's pulse began to pound when she realized it was Owen Grady. Paranoia kicked in, and she started scanning the walls for cameras as she walked. Claire was conflicted about whether she wanted him to acknowledge her as she passed. They ignored each other. Back on the port side, Claire's mind raced over this "coincidence." She wondered if Henry was trying to mess with her or get her in trouble. Claire decided not the think about it and continued pacing.

Owen wasn't entirely sure it was Claire behind the dark sunglasses. He watched her out of his periphery and hoped it was her as he checked out her ass in the yoga pants. It had to be her. The hunter green baseball cap with the "D" on front gave her away even if all her fiery hair was tucked inside. Owen guessed that her collared, long sleeve jacket was made of UV blocking fabric to protect her porcelain skin. He couldn't believe he still found her sexy in this get-up and contemplated whether or not this confirmed he was a stalker. After a few laps of avoiding eye contact, Owen turned and leaned his back on the railing. He waited for her to make the turn and start walking toward him. Then, he started walking slowly toward the bow. Owen didn't want to startle her, but he wanted his intentions to be clear. When she caught up to him, he increased his speed and kept pace with her. After a few seconds of silence, Claire whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Power-walking with you," teased Owen.

"Someone could see us."

"Claire, there's no one else up here, and you've been checking for cameras. Relax. You don't have to keep whispering either."

"Did Henry put you up to this?"

"I asked him to give you a head's up about the embryos."

"Why?"

"I felt guilty...about how you were treated after the press conference. I'm sorry."

"Thanks." Claire was most grateful for the fact that Owen appeared to care about her. She blushed and hoped he didn't notice. They walked in silence for a lap until Claire finally said, "It hasn't been that bad."

Owen lightly tapped the brim of her cap and scoffed, "Did you look in the mirror before you left your home today?"

"Did you?"

"Never," he responded playfully, "I always look good." Claire rolled her eyes and laughed. Owen ran a hand over his bearded chin and asked, "You don't like this?" She didn't immediately know how to respond, and her heart raced. Claire was perilously close to flirting with a man to whom she wasn't even supposed to be talking. She also did not want to let on how much she had learned about him and how many photographs she'd seen of him in the last three months. Claire wondered how much of the news Owen had seen about her. She crinkled her nose and said, "Just seems inappropriate for the tropical climate." Claire looked down before adding, "Looks like you're hiding out."

"Takes one to know one," he teased, "Henry said you hadn't left the island for over three months."

Claire groaned, "How does he know everything?"

"He's been here the longest. Neither have I, by the way, been off the island."

"Just a couple of 'wholesome, driven loners,' I guess."

"Who said that?"

"60 Minutes."

Owen groaned, "I stay away from all that. I have nothing to hide, but I don't want it to affect the job I'm here to do."

"Likewise," Claire said softly and somewhat unconvincingly. They resumed walking in silence until they reached the bow and Owen spotted the visitor ferry headed their direction in the distance.

"We better hide," he said sarcastically.

"Don't mock me," she was mildly defensive but still smiling.

"I'm serious. They'll have binoculars and telephoto lenses!"

"Stop it," Claire laughed and playfully knocked him in the chest.

"That was an embarrassingly weak karate chop," teased Owen.

"You want me to hit you again?"

"Maybe."

They had stopped walking and were just looking at each other now. Claire wasn't able to hide her blushing this time. Owen was grinning at her, and she looked down. He sighed, "I want to take you out...when this is all blown over and we're allowed to interact." Claire looked up at him and thought he looked nervous.

"It could be a while," she said softly.

"I can wait," Owen smirked, "Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

Owen took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. Claire thought it was the cutest she'd ever seen him. She smiled at him. Owen excused himself to use the bathroom, and Claire sat on the bench on the bow facing the direction of the ferry's movement. Her heart was racing, and she tried to calm herself down. Owen didn't return before she saw the mainland coming into view. Claire decided he wasn't coming back and headed down to the main deck. She didn't see him before the ferry docked and put him out of her mind as she reignited her excitement about the day she planned.

Owen wandered aimlessly throughout the town for several hours. No one recognized him. He couldn't focus on anything other than Claire. Owen was sure that she had specific plans for the day and didn't want to interfere with those. He also feared what would happen if he spent any more time in close proximity to her. Owen had almost lost control of his faculties after she agreed to go out with him. He wanted to get to know her better but worried that if he learned too much or spent more time with her that he wouldn't be able to stay away. Hell, he wasn't able to stay away today. Owen thought that she could be a bigger distraction to him than even the news coverage. He didn't sleep well the night before, tossing and turning about whether or not to go to the mainland that day. He ultimately convinced himself that he was doing it for the getaway. After all, Henry could've been wrong, and Claire wouldn't necessarily take the same ferry. Owen picked the first ferry based on his own preference and decided that, if she had the same preferred boat, maybe that meant something about their compatibility. He ruminated on their being classified as "wholesome, driven loners." Owen felt that was true for himself except that his thoughts about Claire were not entirely wholesome.

Claire was having one of the best days ever. She wasn't disturbed by any reporters or gawkers. No one seemed to be paying special attention to her except the shopkeepers who greeted her warmly and told her that they missed seeing her. Claire considered removing her baseball cap entirely but had terrible hat hair and instead just pulled a ponytail through the back. Over a pastrami on rye at the New York style deli she loved, she allowed herself to fantasize about a date with Owen Grady. It wouldn't likely happen for a long time, if at all. Once the raptors' threat to the park was real and not abstract, Claire imagined that PR and Risk Management would double down on the contact prohibition. Marketing was already operating on overdrive in anticipation of worst case scenario attendance drop-offs and bad press. She wondered if some of the key players who had thus far remained silent on the raptors, like Ellie Sattler or Sarah Harding, would finally comment. Ian Malcolm's own PR had already told the park that he was currently on an extended meditation retreat in Nepal and was unaware of the news. Claire cringed at the possibility of seeing Ian at the park. She was still working at Medixal Health in New York when he attended the park's grand opening and made a scene. His ploy backfired, so he hasn't commented much ever since. Claire mentally calculated a likely timeline for a date with Owen. She grimaced at the thought of him meeting someone else in the interval and reneging on his offer. Claire doubted she would meet someone else, but you never know. Part of her worried that she misjudged the situation entirely. Maybe he just wanted to be able to take her out to celebrate success, commiserate or satisfy his guilty feelings. Owen may not have any romantic intentions toward her. That thought made her sad but was possible considering he didn't return to the top deck. Claire decided to just enjoy the thrill of his possible romantic interest. After lunch, she walked past the duty free shops and headed toward the jewelers and fashion boutiques.

Owen lazily explored the town, people-watching as much as he was window-shopping. He laughed to himself when he overheard a park employee trying to pick up a girl by telling her about his "highly dangerous" job. Owen had a few bottles of Imperial at a bar that was showing American football. When feeling buzzed, he found himself wandering down to the high end stores. Liquid courage was pushing him to try and catch another glimpse of Claire. Owen saw her through a store window and tried to be inconspicuous. A salesman was bringing her different shoes to match the dress she was trying on: deep green silk and sleeveless with a keyhole cut-out below the collarbone. Claire was a knock-out even without the fuck-me heels she was perusing. Owen suddenly felt guilty about his voyeurism and decided that he was firmly sliding into stalker territory now. He walked back to the bar and had another beer.

Claire was exhausted when she climbed aboard the employee ferry back to the island. It had been a long but relaxing and productive day. She decided to sit in the air conditioned lower deck, multiple shopping bags in tow. Claire took off her cap for the ride, no longer worried about being recognized or interrogated maliciously. She was, however, recognized by Rosa, one of the cleaning ladies at the park. Claire saw Rosa frequently when she was working late and enjoyed practicing Spanish with her. Rosa liked to tease her about working too much but was always warm and kind. She was ecstatic to see Claire more relaxed and asked her about her day in town. Claire was so focused on trying to get her Spanish correct that she didn't notice when Owen walked on to the boat and went directly to the staircase for the upper decks.

Owen sat on the bench at the bow to watch the sunset. It made him content to think that his message through Henry resulted in Claire looking so happy this evening. He was impressed by her Spanish as well as her comfort with talking to park staff outside of administrators. Owen didn't want to think about it too much, however. He was starting to view Claire as dangerous, pulling his focus and causing him to do unhinged things like peering through shop windows. Owen resolved to throw himself into work - there was plenty to do - and decided that taking trips into town without a particular goal wasn't his cup of tea. He mused that it would have been fun to spend the day with Claire, but they were both sticklers for rules. Owen imagined her combusting with anxiety if he suggested something like that right now.

For the majority of the ferry ride, Claire slept against her shopping bags under the watchful, motherly gaze of Rosa. Rosa listened to music on her phone to avoid eavesdropping on the conversations of the other night shift employees. Shortly after the island came into view, Rosa saw a bearded man descend the stairs and sit across the deck from her. She didn't recognize him, but she caught his furtive glances toward the sleeping Claire. When the boat docked, the man immediately stood and walked in the direction of the gangplank. Rosa gently tapped Claire on the shoulder to wake her. After Claire sat up, Rosa told her, "La belleza durmiente tenia un admirador." Claire figured out the jist of Rosa's statement and looked around the deck. Rosa shook her head, "Salió." Claire asked, "Como se ve el?"

"Alto, fuerte, con una barba." Rosa pantomimed each descriptor and grimaced at the word for "beard." Claire laughed then blushed. Rosa smiled and said, "Te gusta el," before bidding Claire good night. Claire bit her lip and felt warm inside.

A/N: I hope I got that Spanish right. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope it was fun to read, too. Let me know.