There's an intimacy to getting down in the dirt with someone and revealing the secrets of a lost world: hands and knees, wind kicking up dust into your eyes, pressed shoulder to hip, carefully blowing warm breath over exposed bone.
Drs. Lucien Blake and Jean Beazley revel in these revealed truths and intimate moments. They'd each be lying if they said they hadn't considered joining the other in the shower post-dig, fingers itching to help scrub away dirt and debris.
No matter how many fossils they find in the ground, it never seems to be enough for either of them. And so, when Patrick Tyneman pops the bottle of champagne in their trailer, smugly twirling his cane and swigging their alcohol, and promises them an adventure of a lifetime, they find themselves linking fingers and nodding.
Tyneman calls his new venture Jurassic Park.
Lucien and Jean climb into a helicopter, accompanied by their favorite graduate student, Alice Harvey, and find themselves face-to-face with Matthew Lawson. Lawson is the resident mathematician and, despite his stoic demeanor, he slides over to make room for Alice. Jean hides a smile behind her hand as the two immediately strike up a conversation about Chaos Theory.
Lucien is too busy being terrified of heights, eyes shut tight, to notice a thing. Jean slips her hand into his, squeezing slightly in comfort. They're on their way to Jurassic Park.
Lucien, for one of the first times in his life, is brought to near-tears at the sight of the brontosauruses moving in herds, plucking mouthfuls of foliage off nearby trees, their loud calls echoing across the valley.
He needs Jean to see this. Jean, who has been by his side for almost all of his life. He reaches down, scrabbling for her head, finding purchase, and turning her towards the dinosaurs.
Jean's gasp is audible and she's at his side in an instant, holding him tight, knowing he is overwhelmed with emotion.
His whole life had been sacrificed in pursuit of these creatures. His father disowned him, too disappointed in a son who never grew out of playing in the sandbox. Mei Lin (and every other woman in his life) had left him, unable–unwilling–to compete with his love of dinosaurs. Everyone had left him, except Jean.
And now they were here together, clinging to each other in a field of soft, pillowy grass, watching as their dreams came true, materializing before them in these gentle, living giants.
Jean, he finds out, is not his impulse control at all. She's his enabler. In school, their friends had teased them that Jean kept him in line, stopped him from going too far in his experiments and made sure he stopped and fed himself with something other than protein bars and whiskey.
But Jean is the first one to help his push the lap bar up, freeing both of them, Alice, and Matthew from the ride walking them through the wonders of DNA and creation and evolution. They leave behind a blustering Patrick Tyneman and Jean rolls her eyes at Lucien's conspiratorial grin.
As it turns out, Jean is the first one to usher them all through the lab and pick up and cradle a lamp-warmed egg, beckoning Lucien over. They stand together, cooing over a small, baby velociraptor like overly proud parents.
One of the lab techs, Munro something (Lucien can't be bothered to learn his name), glares at them disapprovingly, muttering angrily about no regard for protocol and rules.
With the exception of the day Jean agreed to become his dig partner, this is the best day of his life. And he's never been gladder to have Jean at his side.
When all hell breaks loose and he finds himself saddled with Tyneman's nephew and niece, Charlie and Mattie, Lucien appreciates the balance and stability Jean brings to his life.
At every turn, he catches himself turning to his left, expecting to see Jean by his side, ready with a solution or a comforting squeeze of his hand. Instead, he finds two scared children, clinging to his legs and arms.
Keeping them safe is a good distraction from missing Jean–from worrying–about Jean. She and Alice are probably safe with Lawson and Tyneman and he prays for the first time in his life, sending up every promise he can think of, just as long as she's safe.
The kids aren't as bad as he expected. Charlie has a good head on his shoulders and Mattie is a little strange, a little awkward. But they're good kids.
Lucien had long given up hope on a family, on children. His own upbringing–all harsh, tough love and isolation–had all but shattered any dream of a family. His one shot at the picket fence had been with Mei Lin and he had screwed that up. Lucien knew he was a ticking time bomb, doomed to destroy the relationships of the living. It was why he buried himself in dirt and the past.
It was part of the reason he would never inflict himself upon Jean. The undercurrent of crackling tension and more was always present between them, but he knew who he was, what he was. Jean deserved better.
But that was the thing about near-death experiences and coming face-to-face with a T-Rex: It made those wants–those desires–resurface.
All that mattered was keeping himself and these kids safe, getting Jean, and getting off this island. How had this dream turned into such a nightmare?
Their reunion isn't exactly how he pictured it.
She's running towards him, limping and hair disheveled, blood staining her shirt and trousers, scared and desperate, reaching for him. He wastes no time in running towards her, scooping her up in his arms, holding her close as she wraps her legs around his waist, burying her face in his neck out of sheer relief.
For a moment, time itself is suspended between them. All he feels is the warm, heavy weight of her in his arms–shaking and terrified, but alive and real. Her breath condenses on his neck and he can feel her racing heart pounding through her pulse point.
His hand flattens against her back and presses her closer, closer, closer.
They're alive. They're together. She slides down his body and takes his hand in hers, dragging him along. He follows blindly, hand in hand, a swirling mixture of emotions all resolving itself into one mantra: with Jean, everything felt better.
In some ways, Jurassic Park has ruined all the best parts of his life: dinosaurs and digging and science have been tainted by death and fear and screaming. It's something he will have to process and address–hopefully with a large bottle of whiskey next to him.
But at the end of it all, in a shaky helicopter ride away from the island and back to safety, Jean is by his side: whole and healthy and his. Her head is pillowed against his shoulder, her hand in his, and they are pressed together from shoulder to ankle. She seems to be as unwilling to let him go as he is of her.
That underlying tension between them is crackling once more and Lucien is finding it harder and harder to keep the boundaries between them. He closes his eyes and presses a kiss to the side of her head, breathing her in.
Across from them, he watches with a raised eyebrow as Matthew leans over and takes Alice's hand in his, gentle and reverent, his fingers tracing equations onto the back of her hand. A spark of protectiveness wells up in Lucien's chest at the thought of his favorite grad student being taken advantage of, but even he can see the sincerity in Lawson's eyes.
He wonders how he missed two people falling in love in the middle of a catastrophe.
Jean shifts against him as the helicopter rocks from side to side and Lucien leans his head against hers.
Perhaps they weren't the only ones who had fallen in love.
And so, a new dream began to take shape–away from living dinosaurs and academic conferences. Instead he saw himself and Jean, matching wedding bands, a child of their own playing in the sandbox: a life he could only imagine with Jean.
After all this time, it was time he brought his nose up from out of the past and take a chance at the future–at Jean.