Author's note: I know this story is already long and I still have some stuff planned, but we're approaching the finish line, so fear not, it won't be endless :)

"This is the first day of my life.
I'm glad I didn't die before I met you..."
"First Day Of My Life" by Bright Eyes

"I thought you said she ate the sibling," Owen noted.

His shoulder propped against one of the ivy-covered pillars supporting the roof of a gazebo in the back patio of Alan Grant's hotel, he watched Claire pace in circles around it, absently swatting off occasional insects milling around.

"She did, when they were several months old," Claire explained. "We saw it on the video feed."

"Then what the hell-"

"I don't know, Owen. It can't be true. I'm sure it was an animal that…" She faltered and rubbed her forehead. "It was one of the park's animals. None of them are contained, except your raptor."

She had asked Lowery to send her the pictures, but on the screen of her phone, they didn't look like anything special, certainly not something to be worried about. Owen hadn't said anything about them, and neither did Alan. But they all knew that no one on the island would start panicking for nothing, and that was disconcerting – more than she wanted to admit.

"Claire…"

"There is no other hybrid on this island," she said firmly. "We would've known. The cameras would've caught it."

"The Indominus could hide from the cameras," he reminded her, and of course, he was right. He was so damn reasonable she wanted to scream because even the idea of another animal that could tear her apart in a blink of an eye made her throat close up, making the breathing problematic.

It was a familiar feeling – too familiar for her comfort, the one she had carried through that entire day in the park, permanently torn between doing what needed to be done and holing up someplace safe until the danger was taken care of by someone who wasn't her. The very same feeling that kept her heart racing at night while she stared up at the ceiling, unable to close her eyes.

She couldn't do it again.

Except it wasn't true now. No way. They'd fixed it. It was over.

Something must have changed about her face because Owen's eyes narrowed quizzically, his whole body seemingly attuned to hers, ready to sweep in and catch the pieces of her if needed. Claire shook it off and he relaxed immediately.

"For Christ's sake, it's not a chameleon. It would never be able to hide all the time." She sighed. There were too many ifs to make Lowey's words make sense. It had to be a mistake and this whole conversation was pointless.

"How do you know?"

"There is no another Indominus in the park." She repeated.

They both turned to Alan who watched their argument with growing interest from his spot by the railing wrapping the gazebo, his eyes darting between them. It was like following a tennis match, but far more entertaining.

"No, no. Go on," he said when they paused.

For a moment, Claire felt a pang of guilt over dragging him into something he probably wouldn't want to be a part of under normal circumstances, but then again, he already was a part of this one way or the other, and she might as well put dealing with the ramifications of it away for later.

"There is no Indominus because all animals that came out of the lab were accounted for," Claire pointed out, arms folded over her chest.

"What if it was a secret one?"

"Are you seriously implying that Wu created a secret animal, raised it in his closet, and no one found out about it?" She asked, incredulous.

"It's not impossible," he pointed out.

"It is, actually," she countered. "Jokes aside, to pull off something like this, he'd need funding. You, of all people, know how much it costs to feed them. And where would he have kept it?" Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. "We raked the island in the past few weeks, crawling over every square inch of it. Don't you think we would've noticed an extra dinosaur?"

"Not necessarily. We steered clear of the northern cliffs because of the Pteranodons, and that northeast part of the plains because the T-Rex likes to hang out there." He shrugged and folded his arms over his chest.

"That doesn't prove anything. It would've needed food. We would've known."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Owen arched his eyebrows, challenging her to object, and when she didn't, allowed his lips to stretch into a triumphant smile.

Claire sighed and turned to Alan. "Dr. Grant…"

It took him a moment to register what was going to come next.

"Oh, no. No way." Alan raised his hands up. "I'll be happy to read your reports, but going back? I'm sorry, Ms. Dearing, but no way in hell."

"That's a pretty accurate way to put it," Owen mumbled.

Claire chewed on her lip for a few moment. "It's not just a friend's request, Dr. Grant. The company will reimburse you for your trouble."

Alan let out a long breath. "Let me get this straight. You want me to go back to the island packed to the brim with dinosaurs and a potential I-don't-even-know-what running around, am I correct?"

"There's nothing there," Claire insisted. "Nothing we don't know about. And I guarantee-"

"Well, that's the thing – you can't guarantee anything," he interjected firmly. "Not with that place."

He had a point.

Claire considered their options.

"I promise you it's not the way it was 20 years ago. It's safe…er. Much safer." And added when she saw his hesitation, "Two days. Two days and we'll bring you back here."

"And look at it that way," Owen piped up, "You might get to see Rexy! You're old friends, right?"

Alan stared at him for a moment, then turned to Claire. "You gave the T-Rex a pet name?"

Claire huffed with a slight exasperation. "I didn't."

xoox

"Two days," Alan repeated when the helicopter turned toward the landing platform over the Control building, his eyes trained on the hills rolling beneath them. Claire followed his gaze, spotting two Apatosauruses in the valley below.

Earlier, she called Lowery again to get the status report and ask for a ride back to the island. Owen gave her a stink-eye for opting for a chopper, still averse to the idea of air travel after his unfortunate adventures, but the motorboat would have taken nearly twice as long, and they were in no position to waste any more time. Especially if there was a risk of starting a wave of panic among the people.

"And not a minute longer," she promised Alan, her fingers flexing reassuringly around Owen's hand lying on the armrest between their seats while she tried to pretend she couldn't hear his shortened breath as he stared intensely out of the window. "Unless you choose to stay."

The helicopter landed with a dull thud, shuddering at the impact.

Alan gave her a wry smile. "Not a chance."

Eager to get out of the 'death can', Owen climbed out first and offered his hand first to Claire and then to Alan before diving into the cabin again to pull out their bag and Grant's suitcase, nodding to the man who came up to meet them to take their baggage downstairs.

Shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand, Alan swept the park with a long, troubled glance, his eyebrows pulled together and his lips pursed into a tight line.

"It's changed," he said when Claire paused beside him, wondering what he was seeing that she wasn't.

"I told you it's not the same as you knew it," she noted.

He turned to her, his expression odd. "I'm not sure yet if it changed for the best," he mused, but then the shadow of foreboding was gone, and he offered her a genuine smile. "Lead the way!"

They heard the voices while still in the elevator, loud and demanding. And when the doors slid open, Harris was there with two of his men, standing before Barry and another guy Claire saw before but never met officially. Harris was waving a handful of printouts in front of Barry's face, his eyes narrowed and his jaw squared. Barry said something quietly, but briskly, his whole stance unyielding.

They all fell silent when she, Owen, and Alan stepped into the Control Room.

From behind them, Lowery stared at their guest, his jaw hanging open and his eyes wide as saucers. She might have brought an honest to God Bigfoot with her, and he probably wouldn't have been more astounded.

"What's going on?" Claire asked.

Harris turned to her with a smirk. "Looks who's back." His gaze traveled past her and fixed on Owen. "How was the trip?"

"Terrific," Owen assured him. "Best IVs I've ever had. I'd recommend them to a friend."

Harris ignored his quips and walked over to Claire, shoving the printouts at her. "What does this look like to you, Ms. Dearing?"

She took the papers from him. They were grayish photographs of the dinosaur footprints. Two of them – left and right – taken from several different angles, with their measurements written in the margins. Some of them were undoubtedly the same ones she'd already had on her phone.

"My guess would be a raptor," Claire responded without hesitation. Truth be told, she probably wouldn't be able to tell the raptor's footprints from the ones of just about any other animal on the island, but judging by the size indicated on the pictures and the footprints she'd seen at Blue's paddock, she went with her best guess.

"No, what you're seeing is insubordination," Harris huffed.

She looked at the pictures again before it registered with her that what he was saying wasn't a name of the species.

"I'm not sure I'm following," Claire frowned.

"See the timestamp here? These photos were taken fourteen hours ago." His finger pointed at the lower right-hand corner. "I don't know where you were for the past 4 days and, quite frankly, I don't care. But you don't look surprised by any of this, whereas I was only informed about this-" he checked his watch, "-15 minutes ago." He glared at Barry, and turned back to Claire again. "This is insubordination."

She returned the printouts back to him. "Those are the pictures of the dinosaur's footprints in the forest, Mr. Harris. Admittedly, anywhere else in the world they would be a big deal, but on this island they're hardly sensational."

His lips curved into a grimace. "This is more than that and you know it, Ms. Dearing. What I don't appreciate is my men going over my head and running to you with the matters that don't concern you."

She leveled him with her gaze. "Everything about this park concerns me."

He jabbed a finger at her. "Stick to your progress reports and stay the hell out of my way. Are we clear?"

"Watch it, Harris." Owen warned him in that low, lazy voice Claire knew meant trouble.

"Shut up, Grady," he said flatly, dismissively. "Just because you're fucking the biggest stuck-up bitch on this side of the equator doesn't mean-"

He didn't get to finish his thought because the next moment Owen's fist connected with his jaw, and he staggered backwards with an involuntary Ow, his hand reaching for his face, his eyes wide with shock.

Claire gasped. Lowery muttered Ouch. No one else moved or so much as breathed, too dumbfounded by the scene that unfolded before their eyes in a blink of an eye. For a few moment, the only sounds breaking the heavy silence were the gently hum of the equipment and the breathing of the 10 people currently present in the room.

"I said watch it," Owen repeated quietly, dangerously.

"Owen, don't," Claire grabbed his arm and pulled him back as Harris straightened up, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, a broad red spot spreading over the left side of his face.

"You're so fired, Grady," he muttered.

"No, I'm not." Owen snickered. "And you know why? Because you have no idea what you're doing here." His fingers were still flexing, curling into his palms and relaxing only to ball into fists again. "You have a problem with me? Man up and deal with me."

On that, he wiggled out of Claire's grasp and walked away without looking back, and it was only then that everyone remembered to snap out of it.

She wanted to follow him, but noticed Barry shake his head out of the corner of her eye and focused on Harris instead, nearly shaking with the sudden fury that washed over her. "I am not going to tolerate this kind of attitude, Mr. Harris," she said to him icily.

"It wasn't me who started swignin'." He spat angrily.

"If it wasn't Owen, it would've been me."

Still rubbing his sore jaw, he stared her down, but didn't respond.

"Well, this was interesting," Alan spoke when everyone remain quiet for another half a minute.

Harris looked at him, as if only now noticing a stranger among them. His eyes narrowed. "Who are you, again?"

xoox

An hour later, Claire found Owen sitting on the fence surrounding what used to be a petting zoo but what looked mostly like a giant mud puddle after the last night's rain. The temperature had dropped as well, stealing away the earlier warmth, and the wind was heavy with moisture and chilly on her skin. It would probably rain again later tonight, she thought.

"There you are," she said, making her way toward him from where she'd left her car. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Owen tossed a spear of grass he'd been twisting in his fingers aside and offered her a crooked grimace of a smile. "It's a nice view." He jerked his chin at the Innovation Center across the lawn, the sun hanging just below the level of its pointy roof making it look like a Christmas tree with a lit up star on the top of it. "You shouldn't be here by yourself."

"Pot, meet kettle." She huffed, stopping before him. "I thought you went to the paddock."

"I did." He met her gaze. "But the feeding was over and Blue was hiding somewhere." Owen rubbed his eyes, and it struck her how tired he looked, his weariness a bit too prominent for her liking. Belatedly, Claire remembered that he'd been released from the hospital not 24 hours ago.

"You have got to start charging your phone at least occasionally," she accused him. "I was worried."

His face softened, the tension lines around his mouth smoothing out. "Sorry," he breathed out. "I had to get out of there, or I'd…" he shook his head, dropped his gaze. "I don't know."

She took his hand in both of hers, running her thumbs over his bruised knuckles.

"Am I in trouble?" Owen asked.

"No."

"Are you?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Is anyone?"

A corner of her mouth lifted, curling into a grin. "Dr. Grant thinks it was a mistake to come here and that we're all going to die."

"All is right in the world then." He let out a short laugh. "Where's he?"

"I took him to the hotel and explained how our buddy system works – no wandering around alone and unarmed," she replied. "And speaking of which…"

"I'm armed," he pointed to the rifle propped against the fence by his side, but her reproach did not falter. Yet, she didn't push.

"Look, Harris chose a bad way to address this issue, but he was not wrong about the whole thing. What if it wasn't nothing? He had to have been informed immediately." Owen's brows drew together, and she added before he spoke, "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate Lowery's enthusiasm and obsession with conspiracy theories, but in this situation, it was unprofessional."

He bristled momentarily. "I don't give a shit about Harris's wounded ego, Claire. He had no business talking to you that way just to get back at me."

She stepped closer, standing between his parted knees, and trailed her hands along his thighs, locking them behind his back as she pressed her forehead to his collarbone with a sigh. Owen's arms closed around her immediately and he dipped his head to brush a kiss to her hair, his whole body enveloping hers.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that crap," he murmured.

"It's okay," Claire told him softly.

"No, it's not," Owen said. "First of all, he's an ass. And second of all, what he said is not true." He stroked her hair. "You're the kindest, bravest, the most generous person I've ever met, and I'm not gonna let some opinionate dick tell you otherwise." He chuckled. "And it was so nice to knock him off his high horse for once."

"If there was an actual horse, it'd kick you back," she snorted.

They stayed quiet for a while, listening to the sounds of the island – never too prominent, but always there.

In the time she'd stayed with Karen and the boys, the one thing that Claire noticed was a near complete silence of their sleepy neighborhood. Lying awake in bed in the middle of the night, she could hear her own heartbeat it was so still. The park was another thing – there were always the cries of the animals, the soft lapping of the waves, the gentle rustle of the trees. She never knew how used she'd grown to these sounds until they were gone and she found herself suspended in a sensory vacuum.

"I used to come here sometimes, you know," Owen said after a few minutes. "The babies… they're that adorable kind of awkward until they grow into their bodies and long necks and frills." Absently, he started tracing his fingers along the line of exposed skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. "I had to put down three of them in the weeks before you came. They were too sick or too injured to survive. Gets you thinking…"

"That's what I'm worried about," Claire said, attempting to lighten up the mood, her throat thick.

"I know it's a natural order of things and it's how it had been for millions of years before the humanity started majorly fucking up everything, and they're wild animals… But I don't know what would happen to them if InGen leaves them to fend for themselves. They will run out of food eventually. Or the T-Rex will slaughter 'em all until she's the only one left on the island."

She sighed and buried her face in his chest, snagging the precious warmth radiating off of him. "I care about them, too, Owen. I really do. But I don't know how to fix that."

"S'okay," he breathed out.

Claire pulled away and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Let's go back, okay?"

xoox

"Ouch!" Owen glowered at her while she was changing his bandage.

Perched on the tall stool by the kitchen counter in her suite, he regarded her grimly.

"You ripped your cut open, Owen," she returned the glare, stern and displeased. "One day! One day out of the hospital and we're dealing with this again."

He glanced down with a grimace and mumbled, "Stupid Harris and his stupid face."

Claire pursed her lips together. "Okay, you know what? That's it. We're going back. Now!"

"Don't be silly," he caught her hand and pulled her toward him when she started to move away. "It didn't really open, okay?" He waited for a heartbeat, then another, until the crease between her brows disappeared. "Hey, I promised you, right? No stupid stuff. I'm fine, Claire."

She swallowed, eyeing him uncertainly, then shook her head. "Don't move for two minutes, will you? Because if you ask me to stick needles in you again, I swear to God…"

"The next time, I'll let you fend for yourself and just stay back and watch you rip the world apart," he promised.

"I can hurt you in so many ways right now," she grumbled.

"What happened to not wanting me dead?"

"I changed my mind."

"Can I sic you on Harris the next time you're like this?" He asked curiously.

"Oh, shut up."

"Yes, ma'am." He allowed her to finish her manipulations with the bandages and a nasty smelling something the hospital staff insisted on using, feeling guilty over dragging her into all of this again, and yet somewhat smugly proud of throwing a hook good enough to make his skin rip open. He hoped Harris's face hurt as much. "Hey, it's gonna be fine," he lifted her chin until their eyes met, and the deep worry clouding her expression started to fade away.

"Of course." Claire let out a long breath and snapped the first aid kit shut to store it away. "Although if you don't stop hurting yourself, I might have to tie you up or something."

His face lit up. "Oh, kinky! I like that."

Someone rapped their knuckles on the door.

"It's open," she called out, rolling the sleeve of Owen's tee over the fresh bandage.

Barry poked his head in, his eyes darting cautiously between them. "You two are not doing anything weird, are you?"

"You wish!" Owen snorted, earning the look from Claire who found an ice pack in the freezer and tossed it to him over the counter – for his hand, which thankfully hadn't been hurt too bad, but that was bound to sport a bruise for a while if he didn't take care of it.

Barry pushed the door open and stepped inside, followed closely by Alan.

"Dr. Grant," she said, surprised.

"Call me Alan, please." He cleared his throat. "Hope you don't mind my dropping in like this."

"No, of course not. Is everything okay?"

Alan and Barry exchanged a quick look. "Sure. I just wanted to—those photos. I noticed something was wrong about them and it took me a while to figure out what."

Claire's phone started to vibrate on the counter. "Excuse me, I-"

"I'll get it!" Owen grabbed it before she could. "Hey, Karen! How's it going?"

"Owen, give it to me," Claire demanded, but he swiveled on his stool, turning his back to her.

"Fine, thanks… It was just a scratch, but you know Claire… Uh-huh, exactly..." He swiveled again when she tried to take the phone from him. "Okay, but imagine living with her... Oh, right. You know what it's like..." He paused, listening, and Claire felt her cheek heat up. "Well, it's not like that. Her flat iron still lives in that faceless hotel room of hers… That's what I said!"

"I mean it, give me my phone," she hissed, trying to grab a hold of it, but it appeared to be futile.

"Oh, no. She's right here, but we have company so I've taken it upon myself to step up as her assistant." Without any regard for Alan and Barry, he flashed a megawatt beaming smile at Claire.

"You're the worst assistant and you're so fired!" She promised him fiercely, then turned to their guests who took their seats on the couch. "I'm sorry, this is…" She glared at Owen who wandered off into her bedroom, still fending off the question attack from her sister, and quite successfully, too. "I'm gonna kill him later."

Chuckling, Barry shook his head. "It's okay, Claire."

"This is probably not what you expected," she said to Alan apologetically.

"It's entertaining," he assured her. Then his smile dropped, replaced by a slight frown. "So about the pictures-"

"What about them?" Owen asked, returning to the living room. He walked up to where Claire was standing near the counter, leaning against it with her arms folded over her chest, and placed her phone down on the stone countertop by her elbow.

"Everything okay?" She asked him.

He nodded, his hand finding its way to the small of her back for a moment, before sliding habitually around her waist. "She'll call you back."

"You're still not off the hook," she warned him, earning a cheeky grin in response. "So what about the photos?" She asked Alan.

He glanced at Barry again – a conspiratorial look between two people who clearly knew something that everyone else didn't. Claire tensed, not liking the sight of it.

"The footprint we found in the jungle is not the raptor's. In fact, it doesn't belong to any of the species on the island," Barry said. "At first I thought so because we haven't registered the trackers in that area for a while, but there's more to it."

"There's a distinct fourth toe," Alan added in that dubious, uncertain tone that made it sound like he couldn't believe what he was saying, either.

"And none of the biped species living on the island have four toes." Barry finished. "Not that kind that would show when they walk."

A cold touch of panic trickled down Claire's spine. Beside her, Owen tensed, his breathing catching. "Then what the hell is it?" He spoke the words she didn't dare to even begin to contemplate.

xoox

After that, the conversation continued to run in circles for a while. There was no proof of anything, no answers to why and how and, most importantly, what. The problem was that aside from the photos, there was no evidence of anything out of the ordinary going on. None of the patrol teams noticed anything abnormal in the forest, and none of the cameras caught any suspicious acidity either.

Between the four of them, Barry and Owen chose to believe their eyes, Claire decided to stick to the common sense – that nothing could appear on the island out of nowhere – and Alan took the neutral ground, needing more convincing to sway to one side or the other.

Later, when Alan and Barry retreated to their respective rooms for the night, Claire found herself on the couch, going through her emails after a quick call to Karen to reassure her sister that no one was dead and trying hard not to think about this new development, period.

Owen grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and washed down his daily dose of antibiotics with it. Afterwards, he flopped onto the couch beside her, his head in her lap and a cushion shoved underneath it, making Claire grin.

She put away her phone and ran her hand through his hair. "You okay with staying here tonight?"

He looked up at her, studied her face hovering over him for a moment or two. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it's not as… rustic as your bungalow," Claire reminded him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "The shower actually has a decent pressure."

Owen caught had hand and kiss her palm. "I think I'll manage."

"You don't actually think there's something out there, do you?" Claire asked, unable not to.

His face fell, the smile gone momentarily. "You saw the photos, heard what Grant said." Her hand still clasped in his, he started tracing absently his thumb over her palm. "And Barry was there, not some green ACU recruit who's never been to this place before."

"I just don't understand…" She trailed off, biting her lip.

"Are you sure the I-Rex ate her sibling?"

"There's the footage. I can pull it out for you if you want, but I assure you, it's pretty straightforward. And quite sickening." She grimaced at the memory, and added, "Besides, if she didn't eat the sibling and it just… escaped, we'd know. There's no way an animal of that size and hostility could stay undetected on the island hosting 20,000 people at all times."

To that, Owen had no response. "Well, then we're fresh out of ideas," he told her. "Except… I might have one."

"Yes?" She tilted her head to her shoulder, curious.

"How about we forget about this for tonight," he slipped his hand around her neck, pulling her down until their lips were just barely apart, "and go check how's that pressure in your shower doing?"

xoox

In the end, Claire decided to forego the shower in favor of a jacuzzi.

"Is this a pool?" Owen had asked the first time he saw it a few weeks ago. "Why do you have a pool in your hotel room?"

"It's an apartment," she huffed.

"It might be taking up an entire floor, but it's still a hotel room," he snorted.

Right now, however, he didn't care all that much about the semantics. It was easier to keep his bandage from getting wet when they were in the tub. But the best thing was that it was quite incredible how sensual foamy sponges and lips could be, combined with hot water and… 'Are those bubbles?!'

"You know, I could get used to this," Owen hummed against her skin as Claire sat between his knees, her back resting against his chest. She'd pulled her hair up into a messy twist on the top of her head giving all the access he needed to the delicate curve of her neck, although it was the curling wisps that escaped her 'do' that were currently driving his mind over the cliff.

"Taking baths?" Claire asked as his ran his hands along her arms, leaving patches of foam on her skin.

"You," he pressed a kiss to a sensitive spot behind her ear as his palms trailed down her sides and around her waist.

She tilted her head, meeting his mouth with hers, her hand slipping around his neck. "That's the idea."

His skin was slick and wet when she managed to turn around, making it almost impossible to hold onto him, which Claire didn't mind because it required holding on harder, her fingers digging into his flesh, scrambling to wrap her arms around her.

"Got any other good ideas?" Owen asked, punctuating the words with kisses as he trailed his lips down her neck, moving slowly toward her chest, tickling her skin with his breath.

"I don't know." She tugged him toward her, "Let me run them by you, and then you'll tell me." Legs wound around his waist, she pulled him closer, closer…

"Jesus, Claire," he grunted into her clavicle, his hips rocking against hers on their own volition, filling her, catching her soft whimper of acceptance with his mouth.

"Need you," she murmured, her mind hazed.

Palms pressed to his cheeks and her breath hitched in her throat, she pressed her mouth to his, needing him, this, now, the touch of her fingers encouraging and inviting until he found the rhythm – slow, almost lazy, savoring, breathless. His hands slid down her back, along her sides, their bodies rising and falling in the warm water. Her stomach hot and tight, Claire nuzzled his cheek, her eyes dropping shut, her awareness dimming, slipping into the only universe that mattered.

Owen's hands clutched her hips, palms sliding along her legs, and she arched her back, framed his thighs with hers to the low, guttural sound that broke out of his chest. His arms caught her, lips pressing to whatever skin he could reach, devouring, claiming, falling into the sweet oblivion. The touch of her hands, the sweet, heavy feel of her body melting in him was making his nerves feel raw and exposed, his whole being sparkling alive to the sound of Claire' voice whispering his name. His fingers dug into her skin, trialing over her back, her arms, the flat plain of her stomach as their breathing started growing shorter, more erratic.

One last pull, searing pleasure, and Claire was falling from the brink, only barely registering the sudden tightening of his hold on her that was making it hard to breathe and yet still wasn't close enough, strong enough. The whisper against her neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair. His lips grazing her shoulder while the world swam around them, timeless and bright.

"Thank you," Owen chuffed against her temple when she curled into him, sated and boneless.

"For what?" She mustered almost soundlessly, kissing his mouth, his jaw, waiting for the reality to slide back into place.

"For showing me that bubble baths can be fun," he chuckled into her hair.

The sound of her soft laughter echoed in every part of his body, his grip tightening around her, possessive and needy. One of these days, he would actually believe she was his. But today, it was all about feeling her skin pressed to his, and the overwhelming pleasure of her presence.

Later, by the time Owen called the Control Room to tell whoever was running the night shift to alert him immediately if they caught anything on camera (because Claire was goddamn right and logical, but if the past had taught them anything it was that anything could happen) and slipped into bed, she was already curled on her side. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

"Stop it," he whispered.

"What?" She asked softly.

"I can hear you think."

Her lips curved into a smile. "Hear anything interesting?"

"Mm," Owen kissed her shoulder, near the strap of her pajama top. "That you're crazy about me."

"That was supposed to be George Clooney." Claire rolled over to face him, tucking her arm under her head. "Was I not picturing him right again?"

Their legs tangled together, Owen trailed his fingertip along her face. "Nope, all me." He studied her features in the dark – whatever he could see, and added, somewhat amazed, "It's been a year."

"Since when?" She asked, curious.

"Our first date," he told her in a dramatic voice, followed by a theatrical shudder.

"First and only," she reminded him, the corners of her mouth lifted in amusement.

"Guess I'm lucky you allow me to do all kinds of things to you after only one date," Owen commented, practically hearing her roll her eyes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then pecked her on the tip of her nose. "We could've been doing this for a year."

Claire scoffed. "Doubt it."

"Wanna know a secret?" Owen asked quietly, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair, brushing occasionally against her cheek. "I wanted to ask you out again, but I thought you'd tell me to fuck off."

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed fast, wishing she could see him better. She wiggled closer to him, stretching her body along the whole length of his, her head resting on his outstretched arm. She trailed her hand down his chest, counting the scars. Stray bullets, he'd told her; a slash one on his side; several claw marks left by the raptors when they were still little and Owen had made a strategic mistake of underestimating their viciousness. "It's like a map," she whispered. All the pain, she thought. And those were only the visible marks. "Do you want to know a secret?"

"Hm." His agreement came out like a rumble reverberating through her body.

"I'd say yes."

Owen stayed quiet for a few moment before asking, "How come?"

"You had two strikes. I would've given you another chance."

"Two strikes, huh?"

She laughed. "For board shorts."

With a groan, he buried his face in a pillow. "Naturally."

"And for taking me to Margaritaville on the first date. Seriously, Owen."

"You live and learn," he noted philosophically. "It'll never go away, will it?"

"We'll just have to wait and see," Claire murmured, brushing a kiss to a small scar just below his collarbone as his heart thumped strongly and steadily beneath her palm.

He tickled her foot with his toes, and then tipped her chin up, pressing his lips to hers again, muting her giggle. "You need to sleep, okay? I know it's tough, but you need to rest."

"Don't go," she breathed out.

"Not going anywhere," he promised and pulled her closer into him, delighted by the weight and warmth of her body against his, the scent of her skin, the way she fit against him in that perfect way that made Owen wonder how he even managed to make it to the age of 38 without her, without this incredible completeness.

He woke up a few hours later after a dream he couldn't remember, save for the fact that it felt like a thick, heavy blanket that threatened to suffocate him, to Claire crying in her sleep. It wasn't the sound of it that alerted him so much as the changed pattern of her breathing.

"Claire?" Owen called her, touching her shoulder. "Claire, baby…"

Without waking up, she snuggled closer to him, tucking her face into his chest as Owen smoothed down her hair, whispering quietly to her – the words not as important as the soothing tone of his voice. It wasn't the first time it happened, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. She usually refused to talk about it in the morning, and he never pushed, always feeling shitty about not being able to help her, but also somewhat scared to hear what demons were haunting her.

The weather had changed again, the air suddenly heavy and thick with the smell of the ocean and intoxicating scent of tropical flowers. Outside the open window, something cried out in the night, the sound carrying for miles in the still air.

Claire settled down eventually, but he stayed awake for another hour, wondering how could he possibly fix them both.

xoox

Claire spent half of the next day poring over the vet reports with Alan as he went through each of them, pointing out to her the discrepancies in the generic construct between the park's animals and the actual dinosaurs and explaining why their original genome might have been changed. His best guess was that, in most cases, Wu simply didn't have the full chain they needed for to create the original species, although Alan speculated that some of the modifications could have been done to make the animals more susceptible to the world they hadn't been a part of for millions of years.

He explained to her that the extra toe could have appeared as a result of genetic manipulations, but the hiccup with this theory was that every animal had a personal file that contained their specifications and health history, and none of them had this particular type of mutation. Wu was meticulous – he would have never missed anything of that kind.

In the meantime, ACU was finally taking care of the T-Rex problem, as in – herding her back into her cage. The decision regarding the fate of the island had not been made yet, and it bothered Claire more than she was willing to admit, but Harris decided that keeping the most dangerous of the species locked up until then was the safest option for the rest of the team, and she didn't say anything. If they were going to search the whole island top to bottom, it made sense to have her locked up.

Owen was with them in the beginning, but once the most tedious and dangerous part of 'Lure Rexy out of her hiding' was over, he dropped by to pick up her and Alan and take them – well, mostly Dr. Grant – to the raptors' enclosure for a tour.

"This is incredible," Alan shook his head in amazement, watching Blue from the catwalk above the paddock.

"They're crazy smart," Owen agreed. "And very intelligent."

"How old is she now?"

"Around 4. There used to be four of them, and they behaved better. But after everything… " He trailed off with a small shrug.

Blue snapped at them, her eyes narrowed and gleaming predatorily.

"She doesn't like me much," Claire said to Alan, noticing that the raptor's attention was primarily focused on her.

Owen chuckled. "Yeah, as my mate, Claire threatens Blue's position in the pack. Who'd like that?"

She turned to him, her mouth dropping open in astonishment. "Excuse me, as your what?"

"Biologically speaking," he pointed out without batting an eyelash.

"Well, you can tell her I have no interest in jumping through the hoops on command, thank you very much. Her place in the pack is secure."

Laughing, he ruffled her hair, and Claire glowered at him, swatting his hand away.

Blue growled.

Alan smirked. "She's a jealous one alright." He looked around, studying the walls and the catwalk running around the perimeter of the cage, the cameras around the paddock, the harnesses. "I can't believe how far you've come with this, Owen. This is… Well, it's insane, but in a brilliant way."

"We were supposed to study their behavior and their ability to learn and follow the commands, not turn them into the circus monkeys. It all went to hell only when InGen decided that the circus part was more important."

"Circus pays more science." Alan noted. "When hasn't it?"

A radio on Owen's belt coughed out some static before Barry's voice broke through, "Owen?"

"Hey, what's up?" Owen responded.

"She's in, we got her."

"Awesome, man! We're gonna wrap it up here-"

He was cut off by the roar of the helicopter that appeared from behind the trees, growing louder with every passing moment.

"…the hell?" Owen muttered as the three of them looked up. "See ya later," he said into the radio and disconnected without waiting for Barry's response.

"ACU?" Claire asked uncertainly.

"Not our chopper," he said, frowning. "We have visitors."

"Who would…" She started, reaching for her phone, but just then it began to chirp, Lowery's caller ID blinking on the screen.

"The cavalry is here," Lowery said the moment the picked up.

"The what?"

"Um… the press visit that your boss arranged?" It came out as a question.

"Caldwell sent the press here?!" She repeated, incredulous, and pressed her hand to her forehead, feeling like she'd falled into some kind of a rabbit hole and ended up in the world where nothing was making any sense.

"You didn't know?" Lowery asker after a short hesitation.

"How do you know?" Claire inquired, trying to ignore the intensity of Owen's gaze that kept burning a hole right through her.

"Harris is here. He just got a call and is shitting bricks over their clearance. Apparently, they have none."

"Of course they have none. Half of Masrani Global has none." She rubbed bridge of her nose, wishing she could turn the damn chopper off.

On his end of the line, Lowery cleared his throat. "That's not why I am calling actually."

"What, are there any other good news?" At this point, they might as well be sinking under the water, and she wouldn't be surprised to learn that.

"Define good."

"Lowery."

"Right, sorry." He typed something – she could hear his fingers hit the keys in a rapid succession. "We found it."

"Found what?"

"That… thing. The animal you said couldn't be here."

Claire froze. "You found it?"

"Caught it on camera. I think you should come see it."

She met Owen's eyes, and if his expression reflected what she was feeling in any way – well, they were screwed.

"We'll be right there."

To be continued...

A/N: I do hope you're enjoying this fic so far! There're 2-3 more chapters left, and then we'll be done :)

Please review, your feedback is love - I live for that stuff! :D