The final fish was on the grill of the BBQ and Owen looked over at his house on his left to see his son running out of the kitchen door, along the porch, down the porch steps, and across the grass towards him. The little boy's blonde hair was still a bit damp, even with the muggy atmosphere the island provided, and he wore his favourite pyjamas that had a giant cartoon T-Rex face on the front of the pyjama shirt. "Slow down" Owen found himself saying automatically as the almost-three year old headed straight for him. He and Claire said it so often now that they sometimes found they said it even when Nathaniel was staying still. The little rascal was always on the go, and it was exhausting. Owen watched as his son reached him, approached a white chalked line, and stood obediently behind it. The father had drawn it as a precautionary measure in case his overly-curious little boy stood too close to the burning grills on the large BBQ. He'd drawn the line long enough so they could both stand behind it together. And there they stood. Owen grinned as he saw Nathaniel step up on his tip-toes to peer at the fish that sizzled away. The little boy loved to help him prepare and cook food, and Owen loved to show him. The two were relatively inseparable most of the time, and Owen loved all the time he got to spend with his son, to teach him skills and to ensure he had the best childhood any kid could have. Nathaniel was a quick learner and Owen was a patient teacher, so the two Grady's made a rather perfect team. "Daddy? Do raptors like fish?"

Owen smiled as his son turned to look up at him inquisitively with his big green eyes that looked so much like his mother's, "What do you think son?" Owen was curious to know what the little boy might be thinking. He came up with some very funny ideas sometimes.

"I think…they do." Nathaniel said eventually, after some thought, and his father gave him a small nod in agreement with the little Grady. The father and son turned their attention back to the fish on the grill as the sun began its slow decent, drawing the evening in slightly.

Owen froze, cocking his head slightly in confusion as he looked from his position on the bridge down to his raptor who had raced over to see him, knowing that with the arrival of her alpha meant at some point there would be food. He held his eight month old son in his arms. Today was the first time he had brought Nathaniel to the paddock, as today marked Claire's first day back at work full-time. The couple had agreed that Owen would take their baby son with him to work three days a week, Claire would take their baby son to work on a Thursday, and they would take Sunday's off together as a family day. On Monday's and Saturday's Nathaniel would be cared for by Cassie, the midwife who had helped Claire through her pregnancy and labour. The red-head trusted nobody else with her son while she and Owen were at work more than she did Cassie. And Claire ensured they paid her a lot of money to make her trip over to Isla Nublar twice a week worthwhile.

Owen looked from the raptor to his son. Nathaniel, the once babbling, curious little baby was sat in his father's arms, staring down at the dinosaur in a trance-like state. Owen had never seen his son stay still like that before and he followed his gaze back down at Blue. The raptor was in an equally trance-like state, and Owen was immediately reminded of the times Claire had come to the paddock when she had been pregnant. The dinosaur had taken no notice of anything or anyone but had instead kept her entire attention on Claire. Owen held his breath, then slowly began walking along the bridge. The raptor's head followed them intently, and Nathaniel didn't take his big green eyes off the dinosaur below. Was there a possibility that the raptor and the baby boy had some sort of a connection? Could she sense that he was her alpha's son?

"So…does that mean Blue likes fish too?"

Owen turned to his son with a smile and gave a little shrug, "I suppose it does son" the man replied, and he watched as the boy looked away thoughtfully. Nathaniel was young, but he was very sharp. His attention to detail was impeccable, a trait that he had inherited from both his parents. His mother had a sharp attention to detail when it came to numbers, facts, and the way a room or area was set out. His father had sharp attention to detail when it came to tracking, and trying to understand people and animals, their personality, body language, and mood. Nathaniel Grady had already proved that he had inherited his father's attention to detail in people and animals, and his mother's attention to detail in the way a room or area was set out. Owen didn't doubt for a minute that the moment the boy could read, count, and write fully that his son would become somewhat unstoppable. "Why don't you give her fish?" he heard Nathaniel ask.

Owen took two pairs of tongs and began turning each fish as he spoke, "We've never given her fish. She likes pigs, goats, and rats." He didn't want to get into the ins-and-outs of different kinds of meat. "But she seems to like those." he added at the end.

Owen turned the final fish then looked down to his left at his son who stood by his side, but the boy still had a thoughtful frown on his face, "I bet she'd really like fish." Owen couldn't help the smile that crept across his face. It was fascinating taking Nathaniel into work with him three days a week. Not just to see the way his son developed and interacted with his raptor, but to also see the way his raptor developed and interacted with his son. In a way, it was thanks to the little boy that the raptor had advanced so well in her training.

Owen pulled up to the raptor paddock and turned his car engine off. Turning to his left he saw his son staring out at the big paddock gate eagerly. It was March, and only three months until Blue was set to become the Park's newest attraction. Up until the New Year nobody in the world beyond those who worked on the island knew that there was still one carnivorous dinosaur left at Jurassic World. The idea of Raptor performances had been long discussed at one point during working hours and each time Owen would get defensive, saying that Blue was not for performing. But he had a change of heart when, at around fifteen months old, and seven months since first attending work with his father, there were signs that Nathaniel and Blue had a stronger connection than first thought. It had been something small to start with, like Blue only obeying Owen's orders if the toddler was the one to throw her the rewards. These rewards were dead rats thrown one at a time from a bucket, which Owen hadn't realised his son had delved into and thrown the very first time the little rascal had done it until it was too late. His team had found it hilarious. He on the other hand had freaked out that his son would poison himself somehow. But the raptor had responded correctly and obeyed Owen's command. So now the routine was that each time Nathaniel entered the bridge of the paddock he had to wear little gloves that they had tracked down online. And he wasn't to tell his mother what he did during the days he went to work with his father.

Owen jumped out of his jeep, and wandered around to the passenger side to tug his son out of his booster seat. The little boy scrambled out of his father's arms, dressed in little cargo pants and a fresh t-shirt that Owen knew wouldn't stay clean for long, and he dashed over to the office with his Jurassic World lunchbox in his little hand. Owen grinned as he heard Barry greet Nathaniel from inside the office. It wouldn't be long before the world would know about the little boy and who his parents were as Claire had reluctantly arranged an interview and photoshoot with Vogue magazine, due to the pressure of the stupid Board of Directors who wanted more publicity for the park. Owen had been as equally reluctant to be involved, and he originally had been entirely uninvolved, until one of the raptor team had spotted Claire carrying Nathaniel across the Hub area of the park a couple of Thursday's ago. That team member had told several co-workers around the Hub, and eventually, somehow, it had got back to The Board. According to Claire, her bosses had seemed 'thrilled' at the idea of her having had a child with the Senior Raptor Trainer, stating that it was 'publicity gold'. Not just for the park, but also in time for the opening of the raptor paddock that they had eventually worn Claire down about. With the threat of shutting down the raptor programme and destroying Blue, Claire had had no choice but to agree to do an interview and photoshoot, with her only term being that she got to choose the magazine from the list they had clearly already compiled. The only remotely respectable ones on the list had been 'Vogue' or 'Time Magazine', and Owen knew the main reason Claire had chosen 'Vogue' was because she had read it since she had been a pre-teen. So the little family were set to do a photoshoot and interview at their home in a couple of weeks' time.

Owen stepped through the door of the office to see Nathaniel already struggling to get his little plastic gloves on his little hands, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated hard. Barry sat at a computer in the corner of the office, looking through the predicted statistics for visitors who were likely to visit the paddock in three months' time when they were due to open to the public.

"Any luck with breakfast?" Owen asked his best friend while he wandered over to the store cupboard, grabbing some disinfectant wipes to give to his son, who still struggled with his gloves.

"She chased the pig and eventually ate it, but she didn't listen to me when I told her to come to the bridge." Owen sighed a little at Barry's response. Over the past year, since the confirmation that the raptor paddock would be opening to the public in the summer of 2020, the raptor team lead by Owen and Barry had worked hard to get Blue adjusted to a new routine that would suit the visiting times in the summer. But it had taken a lot of work. If Blue continued to only answer to Owen when it came to 'performing' then the team were in trouble, because it would mean Owen would have to be there seven days a week. Which was impossible. It wasn't that Owen couldn't do it. It would just mean he would lose out on the 'family day off' that he and Claire had worked hard to create and maintain since returning to work full time.

"Right," Owen said with another sigh, as he bent down to help his son with the plastic gloves, "Well I guess her eating is some sort of progress?" he said optimistically.

"Owen, you and I both know that she's not going to be ready by June." Barry said, turning in his chair to look at his best friend.

"She'll be ready. She's just not going to be ready for anyone else but me." Owen said, standing up straight after sorting his son's gloves then handing the two year old a pack of disinfectant hand wipes to take to the paddock, before he put his own gloves on.

"Claire's going to kill you, you know."

Owen gave his best friend a grin, as his son began walking out of the office. Barry wasn't joking. Claire would kill him if she found out that the only way Blue would be ready for visitors in three months' time was if he was there for each 'performance'. She would have to decide between her head and her heart. Her head would tell her it was best for the park, that attendance would spike and profits increase. But her heart would break to know that her boyfriend would be away from the house for most of the day on a Sunday, their day off. Owen ran out of the office after his son, and met him at a small metal storage box beside the paddock. The man unlocked then pulled open the doors and watched as Nathaniel stepped inside, grabbing the handle of a bucket, and tugging it out to the front of the box. Owen delved into a freezer unit, pulling out frozen dead rats. He and his son counted them out as they put them into the bucket. Owen felt proud he had taught his son to count to twenty, though he hadn't ever told Claire it was because they counted rats.

Once the two Grady's got to the top of the metal steps and began making their way across the bridge, they called out to the raptor. The father bellowed her name and the two year old yelled her name shortly after, like a squeakier echo. Suddenly a rustling could be heard and the familiar thundering sounds of the dinosaur came from the bushes until Blue arrived below the bridge, pausing to assess who was on the bridge. She recognised them almost immediately and called out to them. Owen grinned as he heard Nathaniel let out a giggle, before saying good morning to their raptor. The animal called back, and Nathaniel bent down, taking one of the big rats in his little hands. The humidity and heat of the sun on Isla Nublar meant that the rats were no longer very frozen. The little boy took two steps up a little wooden platform his father had built for him, and chucked the rat over the railing of the bridge. Blue immediately snapped it up, much to the young Grady's delight.

"Good girl!" Owen heard his son yell at the raptor, which Blue had responded to with a little growl. He hated to admit it, but if only his son were about twelve years older. Then he could get Nathaniel to lead the performances, and he knew that Blue would perform just fine for him. Claire would have taken some talking around of course, but they could've made it work. The thing was, so much of what he let Nathaniel do at the paddock he kept a secret from his girlfriend. Well, not a secret, but it was more like he avoided telling her the exact details of what he let their son get away with.

Owen looked up from his son to the house and saw his girlfriend walking out onto the porch, carrying the magazine. His stomach knotted as he remembered a section he had read from her interview in the magazine when it had been delivered earlier that morning: "Owen and I have never talked about getting married," she reveals "but I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else." So if he were to ask her to marry him, would she say yes? "Of course," Claire says, her green eyes lighting up slightly at the thought, "but only if he wanted to. If not then that's okay, I'm happy enough with our situation. We have great jobs, a lovely house, a great relationship and the most perfect son."

She wasn't lying. They hadn't ever spoken about it. They'd spoken about their future together of course. How long they intended on staying on the island for, where they would relocate to, whether they wanted to send Nathaniel to college (Claire was a strong yes, Owen was a strong no stating that he'd turned out just fine without attending college) but they had never discussed getting married. Owen had always presumed over the 4 and a half years that they had been together that because Claire had never brought the subject up it wasn't on her mind or in her life plans. That her decision to give their son his surname of 'Grady' was commitment enough for her. A big enough gesture to say "I'm with you for life" kind of thing. So he had been surprised and a little upset to see that not only did she want to marry him, but that the way he found out was by reading it in a magazine. And reading that she was 'happy enough'. What did that even mean? Was there something he wasn't doing now that could make her happier? And her saying she would marry him 'only if he wanted to', well of course he wanted to! Being able to look at her and know she was his wife. There was no man on the planet who wouldn't want that.

"Daddy I think the fish is burnt" Owen snapped out of his little daydream at the sound of his son's voice and realised that his girlfriend was almost at the pavilion they were stood at, looking at him with a curious smile on her face. He looked down at the fish on the grill. His son was almost correct, the fish was in fact beginning to burn, but hadn't burnt just yet. He turned the meat again, and noticed Claire had reached into one of the cabinets beside the pavilion, pulling out two large plates and one small plate. He admired her figure in her white linen trousers and strap-top. He'd caught her staring at her body in the mirror on several occasions since giving birth to their son almost three years ago. She complained that it hadn't been the same since and she was right, it hadn't. There was a small pocket of stretch marks along the lower part of her stomach, her 'jelly-belly' as she had named it when their son had pointed it out to her one day, and it meant that Claire always wore relatively high-waisted clothes to hide it. Owen would catch her running her fingers over her 'jelly-belly' whilst staring at it in the mirror in the evenings before bed or the mornings before work, complaining about the change to her body. No matter how many times he reminded her that her body had carried a baby for nine months and that it was never going to look the same, she still ignored his reassurance. It wasn't until Cassie had sat Claire down over a cup of tea and told the woman exactly the same thing that Owen had told her that Claire had begun to listen. Owen made sure he told his girlfriend every day that he loved every bit of her, to make her more body-confident, and it seemed to work.

"Everything okay?" he heard her ask him, and Owen nodded with a grin as he watched her call their son round to the table in the centre of the pavilion where she stood, holding Nathaniel's large apron that they made him wear during mealtimes to prevent his clothes from getting too dirty. Owen slowly began taking the fish off the grill onto the serving dish one by one, watching Claire lift their son into his chair and struggling to get his little arms into the apron as the almost-three year old leant over to grab a slice of bread from the bread bowl on the table. But instead of grabbing the bread, Nathaniel froze and let out a little gasp as his big green eyes landed on the front cover of the magazine his mother had placed on the table.

"Mommy!" the little boy exclaimed, reaching out for the magazine. Owen made his way around to the table, placing the fish in the centre. Claire was busy rustling through the pages of the magazine to find the photos from their family photoshoot to show Nathaniel. Owen had been pleased to see that in the main interview he was only in two of the photos, the rest were of Claire, with one of just Claire and their son. He remembered what a nightmare it had been to try to keep Nathaniel clean that morning. His hands and face, his clothes, his hair. Fortunately the shoot had been a lot shorter than Owen had expected and within a couple of hours they were finished. So he had taken their son back to the raptor paddock with him as it had been a Tuesday and Claire had made her way down to the south of the island to the control room once the magazine's photographer had finished shooting her.

While Owen dished out the food he saw his son point to one of the photos. It was of the three of them. Nathaniel was sat on the wooden balcony of the pavilion whilst his parents stood behind him, holding him steady in case he fell off. And they all looked like they were laughing very loudly, because they had been. A second or so before the photo had been taken Nathaniel had exclaimed boldly that his parents should look at him because was the star of the show, something the interviewer had said to the little boy when she had first met him ("and here is the star of the show. You must be Nathaniel."), and it had caught his parents so off-guard that they could do nothing but laugh. "This one," said the little boy, his finger on the photo, "this is my favourite."