What? A new story? Yup. This one will be 8 chapters in total and I've got a complete draft of it already written. (Yay!) Like most of my stories, will update every Thursday evening.

Huge Kudos and Thanks to Nadin and Elise for beta-ing and providing as always encouragement and motivation. A large chunk of this first chapter was directly inspired by Elise's fic The Mark.

Trigger Warning: This story does deal with abuse. Not sexual and not graphic.

Chapter 1

"Skipping one night of studying really won't hurt your GPA," Sarah, Claire's college roommate, whined. "You don't get points for how many nights in a row you can sit pouring over textbooks. That's not what the college experience is supposed to be."

"I don't know why I chose to take this biology class," Claire replied, not looking up from her textbook. "It's so confusing. I don't remember biology being this complex in high school. I liked it in high school."

"Well, staring at the textbook some more isn't going to make it all of a sudden make sense," Sarah said, reaching out and pulling the book in question away from Claire. "Your brain could use a break. One night. All I'm asking is for you to come out for one night. You can be right back at this tomorrow morning."

"Fine," Claire grumbled, pushing away from her desk. "I think there's a study session tomorrow. Maybe I can find someone there who can help me out."

"Or, maybe you'll find someone tonight," Sarah said, giving an overexaggerated wiggle of her eyebrows when Claire looked over, causing the two to break out in laughter.

"I'm not taking an anatomy class," Claire said, shaking her head, when she finally got her laughter under control.

"Too bad," Sarah replied with a wink. "But, come on. Let's go."

"Don't I need to change?" Claire asked, glancing down at the t-shirt and jeans she was wearing before taking in Sarah's outfit only to realize her friend was dressed similarly.

"Not that kind of party," Sarah said dismissively, tossing the textbook back onto Claire's desk before grabbing Claire's hand and pulling her along. "It's just people hanging out in the common area."

"Oh, well, in that case," Claire dug in her heels, glancing back towards her desk and the abandoned textbook.

"No, you're coming," Sarah insisted. "Give it a couple of hours. Please. Stop making me have to go alone."

"Like you really need me there," Claire said, but she allowed herself to be dragged out of the room and down the hall.

It wasn't long before she could hear the commotion coming from the common area. Thankfully, it seemed to be more the sounds of people talking and laughing, and less blaring music. Maybe it'd be okay after all.

Stepping through the door, Claire continued to trail after Sarah as she scanned over the room, taking in who was there. It was mostly people she recognized — others who were also living in the building — but there were also a few that she didn't.

Then her eyes landed on TJ Dalton. And, of course, that was the same moment she walked into the back of a chair. Thankfully, he wasn't looking at her, and she quickly recovered, turning her attention back to Sarah and where she was going, trying to prevent the blush from creeping up her cheeks.

"Let's get a drink," Sarah suggested, looking back over her shoulder at Claire, and Claire quickly nodded her agreement.

They crossed the room to where someone had set up a table to be a bit of a bar, cups and drinks scattered across the top and in a couple of coolers below it. And clearly at least one person there was over 21, as one cooler was overflowing with cans of beer. Claire was going to grab a soda, but before she could Sarah pressed a beer into her hands.

"Maybe you'll loosen up a bit," Sarah said with an easy grin. And while Claire knew her friend meant it to be friendly, she had to bite her lip to keep from saying what she really wanted to say.

Everyone had always told her that college would be the best time of her life. And that she was so lucky getting to go to one away from home, as she'd get to reinvent herself, instead of being stuck with all the assumptions people had about her from going to school with her for years. So far, it didn't feel like it was working out that way. Or, maybe more accurately, it felt like that who she was — someone who studied hard, and wanted to do well, and was interested in her future — wasn't what anyone wanted. Textbooks were a lot less judgemental than other people.

Opening up the can, Claire took a small sip, trying not to grimace at the taste. Beer was not her drink.

"Oh, Rob's here," Sarah suddenly squealed and before Claire even had a chance to say anything, Sarah was already halfway across the room.

Groaning to herself, and now on her own, Claire took another sip and started to turn around to survey the room, just as a hand landed on her back.

"Excuse me."

Claire almost choked at the sound of TJ's voice. And she quickly stepped to the side, carefully swallowing her sip of beer.

"Thanks," TJ said, reaching past her and into the cooler for his own can of beer. And suddenly, Claire was glad that Sarah had handed her one and she wasn't standing there clutching a soda like an idiot.

TJ popped the top and took a long swallow before his gaze drifted back over to Claire, studying her for a second before saying, "Wait, you're in my bio class, right?"

"Um, yeah," Claire said. "With Professor Smyth."

"Right," TJ nodded. "You sit at the front, don't you?"

Dammit, Claire could feel the blush rising up her cheeks. Why was she such a dork? "Yeah," she finally replied, realizing she needed to say something.

"I'm so lost in that class," TJ admitted after he had another gulp of beer. "I don't know why I'm taking it. I'm not going to be a science major."

"Same," Claire agreed, finally feeling herself start to relax. This was a subject she could talk about. "I mostly thought it'd be fun." She paused when TJ gave her an odd look, before stammering, "I mean, I liked biology in high school. But this… is not that."

"No, it's not," TJ said.

Claire was so sure he was going to walk away at that moment, sure that he was bored with her and ready to move on. But he lifted his beer and swallowed what was left of it, before tossing the empty can towards the garbage and reaching into the cooler for another.

"Do you need another?" he asked, holding it out towards her.

"Oh, no, I'm still working on this one," Claire replied, compulsively having another sip. She'd barely drank a third of it so far.

She watched as he opened the new one with a shrug and took his own sip, before leaning back against the counter behind him as he turned his attention back to her. Wait, did that mean he wanted to talk to her? Claire tried to look relaxed, taking another sip of her beer and offering him a small smile. Maybe this party wasn't going to be so bad after all.

o-o-o

"You're coming tonight, right?"

"What?" Owen said having only been half paying attention to whatever Barry had been talking about. The two were in the holding pen giving Delta and Blue quick checkups.

"Tonight," Barry repeated, sounding exasperated.

"What about tonight?" Owen asked, looking over at his friend.

"Don't tell me you already forgot," Barry groaned, before his eyes narrowed. "Wait, you're just pretending aren't you. You're not getting out of it this time. You gotta come."

"I don't see why I need to go to anything," Owen disagreed, running his hand down the back of Blue's neck as he felt for any abnormal bumps or changes. "There's a reason I'm not living in the employee housing with the rest of you."

"Right, which is exactly why you need to come," Barry said, crouching down beside Delta as he looked her over. "You gotta get out more, Owen. Make some friends."

"Why do I need to do that? I've got you," Owen asked with a quirked eyebrow, before chuckling lightly at Barry's scowl. "Besides, I know a few others. I mean, I've met that control guy — what was his name, Larry?"

"–Lowery–"

"Right, him. And there's the vet person who keeps coming out here, you know who I'm talking about, doctor… doctor–"

"Dr. Griggs."

"Dr. Griggs, I knew that," Owen quickly repeated the name, ignoring Barry's eye roll. He stepped back and moved around to the other side of Blue. "Easy, girl," he told the raptor, running his fingers lightly down her snout as she fidgeted within her harness.

"The fact you can't remember anyone's name is exactly why you need to come out tonight. Besides, Claire's coming…"

Owen tried really hard not to flinch at the name, instead playing dumb. "Who?"

"You know who," Barry replied with a snicker.

"Why should I care that she's going?" Owen tried to sound casual, like he didn't care, keeping his focus on Blue and refusing to look towards Barry. Blue snorted, a low growl escaping her, and Owen realized he'd stopped rubbing her snout and he quickly started again.

"You're really going to try to pull that innocent act on me?" Barry asked. "You're really not that discrete, you know."

For a moment Owen froze, until Blue started huffing again as she nudged her head against his hand, shaking him back into action. "She's never gone to a single one of these," Owen finally replied. "Why would she go tonight?"

"Just telling you what I heard," Barry said, standing up from his crouch and moving to the front of Delta, similarly to Owen, running his hand down the raptors snout.

While Owen was pretty sure that Barry was wrong, that there was no way that Claire Dearing was going to be there tonight, he couldn't help but feel a tiny flicker of hope.

Even though he'd been working at Jurassic World for coming up on three years now, he'd rarely ever interacted with Claire. Not that that had prevented him from knowing who she was. Everyone who worked at Jurassic World knew who she was. Owen had watched in awe as other employees had scrambled out of her way when Claire would walk by, or the way they'd quickly break apart from gossiping when they could hear the tell-tale taps of her high heel shoes coming down the hallway. Personally, he didn't really get the fear that the employees had shown. Nor did he really believe all the "ice-cold bitch" style rumours that floated around. Well… not really, that is. Then again, he'd ended up so tongue-tied the couple of times he'd ever interacted with her, his mind going completely blank, that he couldn't really remember what he'd ever said, or how she'd ever responded.

But none of that had stopped him from developing a bit of a crush on her (even if he hated using that word — it made him think of the way his sister would talk when she was in high school and he liked to think he'd outgrown the "crush" stage). Although, considering how Barry was now outright laughing at him, Owen knew that he hadn't been all that subtle about his feelings.

"And who told you?" he couldn't help but ask, trying to redirect the conversation.

"I ran into Lowery when I was grabbing lunch today," Barry said. "He told me that Claire was grumbling about it all morning."

"That doesn't sound like confirmation she's actually going to be there," Owen pointed out.

"I'm just telling you what I heard," Barry repeated, holding his hands up with a slight shrug. "You're right, maybe she won't be there. But if she is and you don't go…"

"Ugh, you suck, you know that, right?" Owen said, causing Barry to laugh. Owen ignored him and instead gave Blue a final pat before he stepped back from the raptor. "You done over there?"

"Yeah, Delta's all good," Barry confirmed, stepping back as well.

"Good, let's get them back out with the others. I still want to do another run through of the hide-and-seek drill."

"So, does that mean you're going to come tonight?" Barry asked as Owen moved over to the control panel. Owen didn't answer, instead just pressing the button to release the gates.

o-o-o

With her head held high, Claire took a deep breath before pushing the door of the sports bar open and walking in. She really didn't want to be there, but, well, she'd promised Zara that she would.

Claire was pretty sure that by not attending, she'd actually be doing the right thing. After all, who wants their boss to come interrupt their evening when the whole point is to blow off steam from work? How can you do that with your boss (or boss's boss) right there? However, even though she'd argued that ("Zara, no one wants me there.") somehow Zara had still talked her into it. Probably because she'd promised to stop asking if Claire finally went.

The good thing (at least, she was hoping it was a good thing), was that at least tonight's event was taking place at one of the on-island bars. She knew, from Zara's past stories, that others had taken place either over on the mainland (and Claire did not want to get stuck there) or sometimes at someone's place (which Claire figured would be even more awkward and harder to get away from). Since the bar would likely be busy with regular guests as well as the work group, Claire was hoping to just sort of slip out unnoticed as quickly as she possibly could. She just needed to make sure that Zara saw her there first.

As Claire walked through the crowd, she scanned it over, trying to pick out someone she knew. Thankfully, it was pretty easy to separate out Jurassic World guests from workers. The guests always had that very distinctive "tourist" look to them — not just in clothing, but in attitude — while the workers always looked somewhat annoyed by the guests. After pushing past a noisy group of what looked like frat boys (ugh, she forgot it was near spring break time), Claire finally spotted Zara off to the side, with a group of people who pretty much had their backs to the rest of the crowd, probably trying to tune them out.

Pasting on a smile, Claire crossed over to Zara's side, gently tapping her assistant (and friend) on the shoulder, to let her know she'd arrived.

"Claire! You made it!" Zara exclaimed, spinning around, a wide grin on her face. She had some sort of fancy looking drink in her hand, the brightly coloured liquid sloshing about precariously with her sudden move.

"I told you I would," Claire replied with a tight smile.

"Still, I have to admit I thought you'd probably bail," Zara admitted, dropping her voice a little.

"Well, I'm here," Claire said, not wanting to get into it.

"Oh, we should get you a drink," Zara said, turning back to the table. "We've got some group pitchers of beer if you want—no, wait, you don't drink beer, right?"

"You don't drink beer?"

Claire turned to see who had asked the question, only to find Lowery on her other side. She should've known. Probably most of the employees there tonight wouldn't dare say something like that to her, but Lowery had never known how to keep his mouth shut.

"Not my drink," Claire said.

"But, but," Lowery stuttered. "How?"

"Simple, I just don't drink it," Claire replied with an eye roll.

"Let's get you a cocktail or something," Zara butted back in, pulling on Claire's hand. "C'mon, I'll join you."

After Claire got a gin and tonic, she returned with Zara to the group, although she stayed on the outside, sipping her drink and mostly trying to disappear. While she recognized most of the people there, none of them were people she'd normally choose to spend any of her non-working hours with, Zara excluded. Besides Lowery, there was Vivian and a couple of others who worked down in the control room and a few scientists. Alec, Zara's fiance, plus some of his friends from the ACU arrived about ten minutes after Claire.

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with the group. It was more that Claire just felt like she had nothing in common with most of them. In fact, she actually felt kind of old, listening to a lot of their chatter, which was really not making the evening feel any better. How long did she have to stay to be polite?

When Claire finished her drink, she used the excuse to back away from the group, heading back up to the bar and getting a refill. However, on her way back to join everyone, the set of pool tables down one side caught her attention. They'd all been occupied when she'd arrived, but now the one at the back was sitting empty. Her gaze briefly darted over towards Zara and the others, before she changed direction, hurrying across the space, certain that someone was going to beat her to the table.

But no one did, and soon Claire was racking up the balls, and picking a cue from the selection along the wall. Claire wasn't great at pool, but she wasn't bad either. Besides, playing pool brought back memories of her childhood and evenings hanging out in the basement with her dad. Moving to the end of the table, Claire set down the cue ball and lined up her shot. With a crack the ball hit the others, scattering them across the table, and even pocketing one of the striped balls.

"Nice break."

Claire was glad she'd just stepped back from the table. She was so startled by the words, she was sure she would've fumbled and possibly gouged the table with her cue. Swinging her head side to side, trying to figure out who commented, she was surprised to discover that she'd been joined by none other than Owen Grady, raptor trainer "extraordinaire" or, at least, that was how he'd been described to her. She hadn't actually had all that many interactions with him herself.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Owen immediately apologized, noting her reaction.

"Mr. Grady, what are you doing here?" Claire asked before she could stop herself. "I mean–" She cut herself off, wincing as she briefly dropped her gaze to the ground before raising her eyes back to meet his, expecting to see him laughing at her or storming off. Or, well, she wasn't sure what she expected, exactly. However, he was still standing there, an easy smile on his face.

"It's Owen. And I was hoping to have a game of pool," Owen replied. "I noticed you were alone over here and thought I'd see if I could join in." When he glanced away, Claire followed his gaze back towards where Zara and the others were. None of them were looking in their direction, though. "Unless you don't want any company, in which case…" Owen backed up a couple of steps, hands held up in a peace offering.

"No, I mean, sure, you can play," Claire stumbled over her words, before wincing again. "Do you want me to re-rack the balls?"

"No, we can play from here," Owen said, stepping over to the wall to select a cue. Claire waited for him to turn back around. "You sunk a stripe, right?"

"Yeah," Claire nodded. She finally focused her attention on the table, taking into account where all the remaining balls had ended up. "Um, what rules do you play by? I'm pretty relaxed about it and don't usually worry about calling shots or sinking in order."

"That's how I usually play, too," Owen said.

Claire noticed an easy shot, and so she rounded the table and took it, sinking a second ball.

"Although," Owen commented from the side, as Claire circled the table to line up her next shot, "Maybe I should've asked if you're a pool shark before I agreed to play."

"I'm not," she disagreed with his assessment. "I'm just not entirely terrible." She took her next shot, but the striped ball bounced off the corner pocket. "Well, normally not terrible," she amended, as she stepped back. "What about you?"

"Likewise," he said as he lined up his first shot, easily sinking one of the solids. He took a couple of steps to the left before sinking a second shot. And then a third.

"Are you sure?" she asked, an eyebrow arched as she watched him. But his fourth shot went wide, causing the cue ball to sink instead.

"Whoops," he flashed her a bit of an embarrassed grin as he fished the ball out of the pocket before handing it over.

As Claire debated where she wanted to take her shot from, she could feel Owen eyeing her from the side, and finally she glanced over at him, annoyed. "What's with the look?"

"What look?"

"Like you're… I don't know, analyzing me or something," Claire replied.

"I'm not, I'm just… considering how much you seem to enjoy pool, I'm kind of surprised I haven't seen you out at one of these…" Owen floundered for a word to describe the night's event as it wasn't really a party. "...gatherings?" he finally went with, grimacing a little over the word.

"You come to these often?" she asked, propping her hip against the side of the pool table, the game temporarily forgotten.

"Not all of them, but yeah, when it works out," he nodded. "Not a lot to do on the island otherwise."

Claire wasn't really sure how to answer him, knowing how most people usually took her response. Then again, why should she care what he thought? "I don't usually have the time," she said with an easy shrug, before pushing back from the table and lining up her next shot.

"Zara usually comes," Owen remarked.

"And?" Claire asked, glancing up at him briefly, an eyebrow arched, before refocusing and taking her shot.

"Well, she's your assistant, right?"

Claire had been circling around the table, looking for her next shot, but at Owens' comment, she paused and turned to him. "Yeah, so?"

"Well, if she has the time…"

"She's my assistant," Claire repeated his words back to him. "Her schedule is lighter than mine. And, regardless of what people like to say, I don't try to work my employees to the bone." She tried to make the end of her comment sound lighthearted, but she knew it came out slightly bitter.

It seemed to surprise him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…" Owen once again had his hands up in surrender.

"It's fine," Claire replied. "But this," she waved a hand to gesture between the two of them, "is why I usually don't come. I know people like to come and blow off steam about work and such. Hard to do when your boss is right there."

"Even bosses need to blow off steam," he replied. Claire looked over at him in surprise at that. "Trust me, I know."

"Really? Isn't Hoskins your boss?"

"He is, unfortunately, but I wasn't talking about him. I'm responsible for most of the crew working at my paddock. I know what it's like."

"Oh, right." Claire looked back down at the table, trying to fight off her embarrassment. She knew that about him, of course.

Focusing back on the game, she took her next shot. The two played out the rest of the round mostly in silence and it wasn't long before Owen sunk the 8-ball, bringing it to an end. Before Claire could figure out what to say, he was already pulling the balls back out of the pockets, rolling them towards the foot of the table.

"Another?" he asked, as he grabbed the triangle and started placing the balls within it.

"Sure," she quickly agreed, happy to have an excuse not to have to rejoin the others.

If Owen was surprised by her response, he didn't show it. The second game started off quiet, but then Claire broke the silence after Owen managed a pretty impressive shot. After that, the ice seemed to be broken again, and they chatted easily, mostly just about the game they were playing.

As they finished up their second game, this time Claire managing to pull off the win, it was Claire who suggested they go for a third.

"Best two out of three?" she asked as she reached into the pocket after the 8-ball.

"Yeah," Owen replied, having already grabbed the triangle and moved around the table to start racking the balls.

"Wait, before we start," Claire paused him, "I want to grab another drink first."

"Good idea," he agreed, looking down at his own empty beer glass that was sitting on a table off to the side. "I should, too. What are you drinking? I'll get us refills."

"Oh, you don't need to do that," she protested.

"We probably both shouldn't abandon the table if we want to keep it," he noted, tilting his head towards a table off to the side.

"Good point," she agreed, noticing that the people at the table he had pointed at looked like they were keeping an eye on the pool tables, waiting for one to free up. A part of her, a larger part of her than she wanted to admit, felt like she should hand over the table. After all, she and Owen weren't guests on the island. But, she was also actually having… fun? And since her night was going way better than she'd expected, she didn't want it to end now. "A gin and tonic please?" she requested. Owen nodded before heading over to the bar.

Claire finished racking the balls and moved the cue ball down behind the headstring and then chalked up her pool cue, trying to look busy as she waited for Owen's return.

"So, I was thinking," he said as he approached the table, a drink in each hand.

"Didn't know you did that," she replied, happy to see him chuckle at that, as she accepted her drink. When was the last time she'd casually joked around with someone? Besides Lowery, that is. Although, that was more Lowery thinking he was funny and Claire mostly trying not to show her annoyance.

"Since we're doing best two out of three, I was thinking we should make this one more interesting," Owen countered.

"How so?" she replied, intrigued.

Owen took a swig of his beer. "I was thinking we'd put some stakes on the line," he said. "Like, if I win, you have to go on a date with me."

Claire couldn't help it, immediately bursting out laughing. A date with him? That was a joke, right? There was no way he'd want to go on a date with her. But the frown on his face and the fact that he didn't join in on her laughing…

"Really? You want your 'prize' to be a date?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" he replied defensively.

"Nothing," Claire quickly said. "But, I'm going to win, you know. So you're not going to get one."

"Does that mean you accept?" he asked.

"Well, what happens when I win?"

"I have to go on a date with you?" he suggested, and Claire frowned. "I don't know, what do you want?"

"If I win…" she trailed off, unsure how to finish. What did she want? And from Owen? Her eyes lit up. "If I win, I get to bring a group of investors by the raptor paddock."

"What? No way," Owen shook his head immediately. "No outside people at the raptor paddock, you know that."

"These aren't just anybody. They're investors. They're the reason your raptors even exist. Besides, I thought you were confident that you would win?"

"I am confident," Owen insisted. "But that's not–" He cut himself off, and Claire wondered what he had been about to say. Instead she watched as he appeared to be having an internal argument with himself, before he clenched his jaw briefly and then held out his hand. "Fine, you've got a deal."

"Excellent," she said, shaking it. "I look forward to showing off your raptors. I'm sure the investors will be impressed by all the tricks they can do."

"They don't do tricks," he said, sounding horrified as he pulled his hand back. "I–" He finally noticed that she was grinning, biting her lip to suppress a laugh, and his eyes narrowed. "Oh, just for that, I am definitely going to win."

Claire took a sip of her drink before moving back to the head of the table. Even though there was now a bet, the atmosphere between them actually felt lighter, the two of them teasing each other, both with words and actions.

At one point, Claire made sure to pretend to be checking out Owen's butt when he bent over for a shot (okay, she really was checking it out, but she played it off as pretend because of how flustered he got, letting her gaze linger an extra couple of moments). Of course, once he stood up again, he looked over at her and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he said "Like what you see?"

The game was close. Both of them battling it out for the honour of getting to sink the 8-ball. But, it was Owen who came away the champion, his arms raised above his head after his final shot.

"Told ya," he sing-songed with a smirk, as he raised his beer for a large gulp.

"Best three out of five?" she asked hopefully. Damn, she really was hoping she could take some investors to see the raptors. When she'd inquired before about the option she'd been shut down, multiple times.

"Normally, I'd love to," Owen said, as he glanced down at his watch. "But, I've actually got to head out. I've got an early start tomorrow." He picked up his beer again, quickly draining the rest from the glass.

"You're just afraid you'll lose," she grumbled, before she glanced down at her own watch, her eyes widening briefly at just how late it was. She hadn't realized how much time had gone by. She grabbed his cue and hers and placed them back in the rack on the wall.

"Maybe we'll just have to come back here for our date," he said when she returned. "When are you free?"

"Free?" Claire pulled out her phone. "Um…"

"Tell you what," Owen interrupted her. "Let me give you my number and we can sort it out later. You could text me a few options."

"Ok," she nodded, handing her phone over to him, watching as he quickly opened up her message app and typed in his number before sending himself a text.

"There, now we both have each other's numbers," he said as his phone chimed from his pocket, his text coming through.

"I'll look at my calendar tomorrow," Claire promised.

"Perfect. It's a date."

"Right." Claire rolled her eyes, but she followed after him as he started walking through the bar.

"You're not going to stay?" Owen asked, surprised.

"If you get to leave, then I figure I've put in enough time here and can also leave," she admitted, glancing towards Zara and her crowd.

"You should come out to these again," he said as he held the door open and the two walked outside, stopping a few feet away from the entrance. "I know you had fun."

"I… did," she said, still sort of surprised by how the whole evening had gone. "Maybe I will. I'll see what works out. Well, I'm heading that way," she said, pointing to the left.

"And I'm parked around back," Owen replied. "Need a lift?"

"No, thanks," Claire shook her head. "I'll see you later."

"Don't forget to text me about our date," he said, before giving her a short wave as he started to walk away. "Bye."

"Bye."

Whew, it feels kind of nice to be back and posting. Hopefully some of you are still around and looking for something to read. I've also got a snapshot coming this weekend.

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