Disclaimer: I do not own the Jurassic Park franchise or any of it's characters; I only own the characters and plots of my own mind.
6. The Mesozoic Margarita
Gwyn made her way towards the elevator, arms laden with a mountain of new supplies. She hadn't gotten a chance to attempt to shove it all into her bag, the strap of which crossed over her chest, allowing the empty bag to rest against her hip. The canvas-like fabric was weather worn and patched up in some places with hastily tossed together sewing jobs. Gwyn shifted the pile of stuff in her hands, wincing when the expensive tablet nearly slipped off the top. Other than that, she'd received employee manuals, a number of official documents, a sheet of different codes to use around the island, a binder or two to put her research notes in, and then there was a packet of paper that explained how to request food and item deliveries. It was a process that reminded her of the way general stores used to work. Employees could fill out request forms for certain foods or items to be brought in from the mainland during the island's bi-weekly trips to get supplies for the restaurants and other establishments. It all got delivered in nice, neat boxes with the requester's name printed on the top. The runs were every Friday and Tuesday and requests were taken any day of the week at the pick-up office on the east side of the island.
Reaching the elevator, Gwyn sighed and pondered how she was going to press the button. If she so much as attempted to crouch or use her hands, her pile of newly acquired things would spill across the whole of the floor. She glanced around the elevator bay and sighed when she saw no one else around to give her assistance. It was still fairly early in the morning, and it would seem the night shift at command central were still locked away in their offices. Just as Gwyn was about to resign herself to take the stairs, an idea popped into her head. Kicking her left foot upwards, she nudged the 'down' button with the toe of her book, successfully pressing it. A whoosh of breath left her lips in a silent exclamation of succes. Stepping into the elevator once it arrived, she peered at the buttons and tried to figure out how she was going to hit the proper button.
"Oh! Hey, let me help with that!" some exclaimed, tripping between the shutting doors. He was an eager looking man wearing half-frame glasses, and was wearing a rumpled plaid button down that hung open over a t-shirt that read 'good morning, I see that the assassins have failed.' He smiled at her as he gestured to the panel of buttons a-la Vanna White. "Your floor of choice?"
"Ground floor," she said with a thankful tone.
"Perfect; that's my stop, too." He pressed the second to last button on the panel and then turned back to her, extending his hands. "I can hold some of that for you, if you'd like."
"That… would actually be lovely," Gwyn told her new acquaintance, allowing him to take the top half of items. She then flipped open her bag and started to wrestle her stuff inside, brushing hair out of her face. "Thank you, by the way."
"Ah, no problem! I remember my first day here, and I would have done anything for someone to have helped me out. I was kinda just… tossed headfirst into this all," he laughed, giving her back the remainder of her stuff when she held out her hands for it. Gwyn laughed quietly and worked on fitting everything into her considerably small bag.
"I chose to dive in head first, and I'm beginning to regret it. Made for a sleepless night no matter how comfortable that hotel mattress was." She managed to––gently––shove the tablet into the bag, and was thankful the weight of her things was now placed on her shoulder instead of her her arms. Turning to the man who'd so graciously helped her, Gwyn smiled and extended a hand.
"Oh, uh, Lowery Cruthers," he introduced with a bright smile, shaking her hand.
"Gwyn Grant," she introduced in response. She watched his smile fall and his eyes widen. He stopped shaking her hand but continued to hold it, looking as though he'd just seen the most enthralling thing in his entire life.
"Gwyn… Grant?"
She laughed and reached down to pinch the piece of laminated plastic that was clipped to the waistband of her shorts. "That's what this newly issued I.D. card says." Lowery looked down at the I.D. badge and then back up at the woman who bore it, dropping her hand so he could place both of his own at the back of his neck.
"Oh, my god… you're Gwyn Grant! Dr. Gwyn Grant, paleontologist; daughter of Dr. Alan Grant, paleontologist, author… You've been one of the leading paleontologists of your generation! And you're working here?" Lowery laughed in pleasant disbelief. Gwyn smiled and scratched the back of her neck, offering up a shrug.
"I don't know about being a leading paleontologist, but…"
"Are you kidding me? You discovered two edmontosaurus in the span of a month! Just… wow! I don't mean to sound like, you know, a fanboy, but just… wow." Lowery was beaming an excited, appreciative gleam in his eyes as he simply and unabashedly stared at her.
"I've gotten a lot of reactions as to who I am in my time, and, I have to say, I think yours is the most flattering form of excitement I've yet to encounter," Gwyn admitted truthfully. Many times before, people had immediately launched into questions about what happened at the Park, asked her what her thoughts on Jurassic World were, what it was like having Alan as a dad, those sort of things. But to have one of the first things said be 'you're one of the leading paleontologists of your generation' was a welcomed, flattering change. But, truly, she didn't think she counted as a 'leading paleontologist.' That was a title she reserved for her father, for those who had made greater discoveries than herself. Lowery smiled at her and shook his head, shoving both hands into his pockets.
"I just can't believe you're back here on the island, especially after everything that happened last time," Lowery told her in a hushed tone. "I mean… I would have been scared out of my wits at the prospect of even coming back."
"Never said I wasn't," Gwyn pointed out. Lowery's face fell immediately, realizing he might have just said something entirely inappropriate.
"I–I didn't mean to, uh… I'm sorry if I––"
"Lowery, it's okay. I'm not exactly 'scared out of my wits' but there's a healthy dose of fear there," Gwyn assured him with a good-natured smile. A relieved smile appeared on his own face and he placed a hand on his chest as breath whooshed from between his lips.
"Would you mind if I asked you a couple things?" Lowery asked as the elevator doors slid open. Gwyn gestured around the lobby with a lost look on her face.
"If you can escort me to wherever it is I can pick up keys for a vehicle and my employee housing, I'll answer anything you like."
Grinning the brightest grin that had ever possibly crossed his face, Lowery pointed across the lobby and gestured for her to follow him. Lowery asked a barrage of questions pertaining to Jurassic Park, but kept making sure she was okay with what he was asking. He was a charming man, Gwyn decided. Nerdy, charming, enthusiastic, and an overall gentle soul.
"So, what was it like being trapped in that jeep? I mean… with a creature that big bearing down on you?" Lowery asked in reference to the initial tyrannosaurus rex attack. Gwyn let a breath escape from between her lips and thought back to the event mentioned. "You don't have to answer if you don't want––"
"It was, what, twenty years ago? I'm okay to talk about it," Gwyn assured him for the third time, a gentle smile on her face. "It was… terrifying. It's up there on my list of horrifying things that I've encountered. In the moment, it was definitely the top of the list, but… as the day wore on, it took the number two slot."
"Mm… I'd imagine the, uh, raptor attack would have won first place," Lowery agreed, vaguely gesturing to her scar. "I mean… that would definitely be at the top of my list."
"I take it you read my father's book," Gwyn stated. When Alan had documented the events of Jurassic Park, he had gotten her to tell him about the raptor attack, and he put it into the book in as much detail as she'd been willing to give him.
"All of them. Numerous times," Lowery agreed. He stopped walking down the neatly kept hall-way and gestured to a door. "That's the office you're looking for; inside resides the Master of Keys, otherwise known as Jim––here let me." Being a perfect gentleman, Lowery pushed the door opened for her and grinned to the man who was seated at a desk on the opposite side of the room. "Hello, Keymaster!"
"I told you not to call me that," the man at the desk deadpanned. Lowery, without faltering, saluted him.
"You got it, Jim." Gwyn, biting her lip to hide her snickering, stepped into the office and shook Lowery's hand.
"Thank you, Lowery, for everything. I hope to see you again," Gwyn said. Lowery nodded enthusiastically, returning the sentiment. Gwyn turned to approach the desk but then stopped to smile over her shoulder at Lowery. "By the way, I love your t-shirt." The command central employee grinned and thanked her before disappearing. Jim, the man behind the desk made a sound of displeasure. He looked up at Gwyn tiredly as she approached the desk and she guessed she was probably the first person he'd seen this morning. "Hi, I'm here to pick up––"
"Name?" Jim drawled, dropping his chin into his hand. Gwyn blinked at him and then cleared her throat.
"Gwyn Grant."
"Right…" He sighed and typed away at his computer for a moment. "What vehicle would you prefer? We've got four vans, one truck, and two jeeps."
"A jeep would be preferable," Gwyn told him. Jim pushed away from the desk with a yawn, and went to a glass cabinet that was set into the wall behind him. After unlocking the doors, he reached inside and grabbed a set of keys, glanced back at his computer, and then grabbed a second set.
"Right––jeep key." He slapped one key down. "House key." He slapped the second one down. Grabbing a form off a stack of paper beside his computer, he slid it towards her. "Sign the release papers, please." He scribbled something down on a sticky-note as she picked up a pen and began to scan over the document she was to sign.
"You know, I learned how to drive in a jeep; in the Montana badlands, no less. A lot of the paleontologists my dad worked with had them, and they're pretty good for off-roading. It was great 'cause there wasn't any other cars to hit and––you really don't care, do you?" Gwyn asked, having caught a glance at the look on Jim's face when she went to hand him the signed piece of paper.
"Not at all." He took the paper from her and handed her the sticky-note. "That's your bungalow and jeep number. Just follow the main back road and take the directions on here."
"Thanks…" Gwyn trailed off, pocketing her keys. Jim grunted and went back to staring at his computer screen.
Gwyn's jeep––number eighteen––was gunmetal in color with a blue stripe streaking across the sides and the Jurassic World logo was printed on both the driver and passenger side doors. The hardtop was on, protecting the back seats from whatever elements that might come raining from the sky… Or crashing through the trees, Gwyn thought dryly as she unlocked the door and slipped inside. The interior was uncomfortably warm and the seats, which were made of faux leather, were close to unbearably hot and burned the exposed skin of her legs. Fitting the key into the ignition, Gwyn started the jeep and immediately flicked the AC on; as she waited for the car to cool down some, she placed her bag onto the seat beside her and wrestled a couple of papers out. She unfolded the map of the park and found where the brachiosaurus paddock was located. Using her pinky, she traced her path out and then set the map––still open––on the passenger's seat. She then shifted the jeep out of park and headed for the main road.
OOOO
The thing with being a consulting paleontologist, Gwyn had explained to a gate guard, was that there wasn't a set of rules on how to do the job. Not yet, at least. That was why she was hiking into the jungle with her bag slung over her shoulder intent on finding a tree to climb. In order to get the raw sort of data she was looking for, she needed to be inside the paddock; if she went with the flow of tourists she wouldn't get valuable information. There was no observation platform set in the trees for her to sit atop for hours on end. She had to find her own place to perch, had to make her own path through the underbrush and treetops. Her fingers drummed themselves against her leg as she walked, glancing over her shoulder every now and again. It might be the herbivore sector, but it didn't mean they wouldn't attack if they felt threatened––it just meant they wouldn't hunt or eat her. A nervous buzz continued to make itself known at the back of her head, making her flinch at the sound of each twig that snapped under her foot.
The guard had said the brachiosaurs had taken to wandering through the trees, most likely keeping cool in the sweltering afternoon. Gwyn was no tracker and she certainly didn't pretend to be one; she had just picked a direction and started walking, looking for snapped branches and foot prints that indented the soft soil. She felt quite silly going on assumptions she'd learned off of movies and television shows, but it was the best she had to go off of. She reached into her bag, extracted her water bottle and tilted her head back to take a sip. In the trees above her, she saw a number of fractured branches that were striped of their leaves completely. Well, if that wasn't evidence of a brachiosaur, Gwyn didn't know what was.
Gwyn stopped in front of a thick trunked, towering tree that was covered in moss and vines. She grabbed hold of a looser vine and gave it a tug. When it didn't snap, she gripped it a little higher and hoisted herself up, letting herself dangle there for a moment while the vine took the whole of her weight. Once she determined it was sturdy enough, Gwyn began to climb the tree, fitting her toes into little crevices in the bark. It was an odd thing to go on a hike through the Jurassic period; there were different fears that cropped up in the back of one's mind, even if they knew there were no carnivorous creatures lurking under the cover of the ferns. As Gwyn got farther and farther away from the ground, more and more sweat beaded on her forehead. She finally reached a hollowed out hold in the trunk. After briefly checking for nests or any sort of living creature, Gwyn pulled herself inside and let out a sigh. Her arm and leg muscles trembled from the effort it had taken to climb, but now she was resting easy. She extracted her leather bound notebook and a pencil and settled in for a long day of waiting.
After an hour, in which she scratched out a sketch of a brachiosaur on a piece of paper, she felt the tree begin to shake. It was a slight quivering that felt like a faint tickle. She looked up as the shaking stopped. The leaves trembled as everything shook again. And again. And again. It was footsteps––and the footsteps of something substantially large, too. Leaning forward cautiously, she turned her head to see an approaching brachiosaurus. Instinctively, Gwyn's body tensed and she didn't move. But after that instinctive reflex kicked in, she smiled. Unlike Rexy, who brought about memories of terror and pain, the brachiosaur's humble presence made her feel like a joyous child again. She recalled the moment when she'd seen a live dinosaur for the first time, recalled the thrill that crept down her spine, recalled the unadulterated joy and happiness she had felt. So that was all she did for a long moment. Gwyn watched the lumbering creature munch away at leaves, smiling softly to herself. But remembering that she was there for a reason, there to do a job, she took pencil to paper and began to write down observations. She wrote an explanation of how it moved, how it navigated between trees, and how it ate. Gwyn decided she would need to grab a sample of the leaves off the tree it was eating from and identify it for documentation.
When the brachiosaurus began to move further into the jungle, Gwyn scrambled to descend from the tree, scraping her knee against the bark in the process. She followed the dinosaur's movements at a safe distance, keeping paper and pencil at the ready. There was a mindset she always slipped into when she was working, one she'd learned from her father and had earned them both the title of 'workaholics.' She often became hyper focused on what she was doing, paying close attentions to small details and potential errors. The world became limited to whatever she was working on and whoever was working with her. And Gwyn was about to learn that that work ethic really only worked when one was lying flat out in the dirt excavating a skeleton. As her focus had become entirely about the brachiosaurus, she hadn't realized that there was a small drop that the massive dinosaur had seemingly ignored. Half of her foot met the air and the other half remained planted on the ground. That, however, was enough to send her slipping down the two or three foot drop. She sat amidst the jungle foliage, face tickled by dewy ferns, legs smeared in mud. There was a silent moment where she just stared straight ahead, slightly dazed, but then she laughed. Of course this was how her first day on the job was going to go.
OOOO
When Gwyn arrived back at the central Park area, the skies were streaked with pink and purple clouds, illuminated by the setting sun. She had spent the whole of the afternoon following around that one brachiosaur, trekking through the jungle in the sweltering heat that caused her shirt to stick to her back uncomfortably. Popping the driver's side door open, Gwyn slipped out with the strap of her bag coiled around her hand. Said bag was deposited on the hood of her vehicle, which was exceptionally hot thanks to the day's elevated temperature. Maintenance workers passed by and nodded to her in pleasant greeting; Gwyn recognized a couple of faces that Owen had pointed out the previous day, but she didn't dare try and see if she could put names to faces––she would make a right fool of herself. A growling engine could be heard, overtaking the distant din of insects and crowds. It was a sound that reminded Gwyn of long, hot days in the Montana badlands, listening as paleontologists came and went from the site. She bent at the waist and started to rub the now dried mud off her legs, watching it flake off and fall to the ground in dry chunks. Her bungalow was like to not have much in the way of food, so she decided that her best option for dinner would be one of the restaurants or bars scattered along Main Street. Honestly, all she really wanted was a drink.
"Looks like you had a fun day," commented a familiar voice. Looking up and towards the back of her jeep, she saw none other than Owen Grady sitting astride a Scrambler motorcycle. That must have been the engine she heard echoing through the maze of concrete walls. He pulled the vehicle's key out of its transmission and pocketed it, smirking at her all the while. She returned the smirk and placed the sole of her boot against her door, picking at a particularly pesky spot of dried mud.
"Nice bike," she complimented, ignoring his comment. Owen smiled and knocked the kickstand into place before he dismounted and slipped his hand across the handlebars. He patted them with a flat palm and a chuckle, eyes gleaming with pride.
"Thanks; I work on it every chance I get. It's my, uh, prefered method of getting around the island. Jeeps don't always do it for me," he told her. Gwyn chuckled and paused to pick some dirt out from under her fingernails.
"Yeah, I'd imagine riding a motorcycle is a bit more freeing than driving around in a jeep. And my day was quite fun."
"Did you do a spot of mud wrestling with the ankylosaurs? 'Cause it sure looks like you did," Owen said, gesturing to her mud spattered and smeared legs. Gwyn laughed under her breath and then leaned back against the jeep, meeting the raptor trainer's gaze.
"I love dirt––it's kinda in my job description. My dad used to call me the Dirt Fairy when I was little; there was rarely a day I didn't come back to him without a speck of dust on me. However, despite having this lovely coating of dried mud, I sort of need to look presentable enough to go get dinner," Gwyn explained, returning to scrubbing at her calf with her knuckles. From the corner of her eye, she saw Owen dig something out of his back pocket and gesture towards her with it.
"Here." Looking up again, she noted he was holding a red bandana; he stepped over to the nearest wall, in which an industrial sized spigot was installed. He twisted the handle and let out a rush of water, with which he wetted the bandana. "This'll probably be a little faster." Gwyn took the sopping square of fabric from him with a 'thank you,' and began to rub at the caked on dirt. Owen leaned against the jeep, just to her left, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her make progress on her muddy legs. "Where are you going to grab a bite?"
"Honestly? Don't know. I figured I'd just stop by whatever tickles my fancy. Unless, of course, you have any suggestions?" Owen exhaled and drummed his fingers against his bicep, thinking of the handful of restaurants and cafés on the island.
"Well… there's Winston's Steakhouse, but that's more a 'sit down and dine on vaguely fancy food' kind of place…"
"Yeah, not really feeling fancy right now."
"There's the Cretaceous Café, but I think that they close around seven…"
"How about a place where I can get a drink and a burger?" Gwyn inquired, moving on to clean her right leg. A smile stretched across Owen's face as he snapped and pointed at the woman who stood beside him.
"I know just the place then. Margaritaville," Owen said, turning so his shoulder was pressed up against the side of the jeep. Gwyn finished rubbing dried mud off her thigh and stood straight again, folding the dirtied bandana with deft fingers.
"Margaritaville it is then. I'll, uh, wash this for you and get back as soon as possible––thank you, again," Gwyn thanked, holding up the damp bandana. She popped the driver's side door open and placed the folded square of cloth on the dashboard, hoping that the residual heat that clung to the interior would help dry it out. Owen nodded as she shut the door and snagged her bag, throwing the strap diagonally across her torso. She gestured to her body with a sweeping gesture. "Do I look presentable?"
Owen's eyes swept over her just like they had the other day, lingering on her legs, which were mostly cleaned of mud save for a couple of streaks that weren't outrageously horrible. Once his eyes snapped back up to hers, he opened his mouth to speak, but then paused, eyes fixated on something. "Yeah, you've just got a, uh, leaf in your hair."
"Where?" Gwyn lifted both hands to pat down her hair, searching for the aforementioned leaf.
"Just… um… here, let me," he insisted, taking a step closer. He reached a hand out over her shoulder, fingers stretching towards her braid. Gwyn stood perfectly still as he plucked the piece of jungle foliage from her hair; she found herself face-to-chest with the handler, staring right at his Henly clad torso. It would take a lot for her to not notice how attractive Owen was, and it was certainly hard to not think about with him standing so close. He smelled like cologne and jungle and sweat, creating a musky scent that––with too much exposure––could become intoxicating. Owen broke her thoughts by holding up the leaf that had been stuck in her hair. "There's the little offender."
Gwyn smiled and took the leaf from him, twirling it between her fingers so she could watch it spin around in the dying sunlight. "It just wanted a bit of adventure." She let the leaf flutter to the ground. "Thank you for the restaurant suggestions."
"Anything for a fellow co-worker. You know, you should get to know some of the guys who work in the kitchens. They're pretty chill and can hook you up with discounted meals every now and again," Owen told her, tapping the side of his nose. Gwyn chuckled and tugged her hair out of the braid it had been in, nodding slowly as though she'd just received top secret information.
"Mm, good advice. I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she responded. Owen beamed at her and walked back to his bike, grabbing hold of the handlebars while he pushed the kickstand back up. He began to push the Scrambler backwards to place it flush against the wall. He nodded to their right, smirking as he set the kickstand back on the ground.
"You should consider moving your jeep; you kinda parked right in front of paddock nine––that's the t-rex paddock." With her brows furrowing, she looked to the left to see that she had, in fact, parked right in front of a massive metal door. But, since it had been on the passenger's side, she hadn't exactly taken it into account. Gwyn's mouth dropped open as she stared at it, shuddering at the idea of how close Rexy could be to her in that moment. She stared at the door and clutched onto the strap of her bag with a distant look on her face; someone placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to physically jump out of her thoughts. Owen stood beside her, a faint look of concern beginning to pinch his brows together. "You okay?"
"Um, yeah, yeah, completely fine." Gwyn waved her hand through the air. She pulled the jeep's door open and dug the keys out of her bag. "Thanks for letting me know, I hadn't realized. The last thing I need is to have a tyrannosaur step on my jeep…" she sighed and then added a muttered, "again," as she slipped into the driver's seat. Tugging the door shut and twisting the keys in the ignition, Gwyn performed an excellent three point turn and headed back the way she'd come, putting as much distance between herself and the tyrannosaurus-rex paddock as she could.
OOOO
Margaritaville was located on the corner of Main Street and easy to find thanks to its positioning near the mosasaurus pool. The evening had cooled down considerably, which was a godsend after the blistering temperatures the afternoon had reached. The sky was darkening and the park activity was winding down and geared more towards finding food before turning in for the evening. Gwyn paused before she entered the restaurant, spotting a familiar face on the rooftop dining balcony. Crossing her arms, pursing her lips, and arching an eyebrow in a look that she'd learned from Alan, she waited for Owen to glance down at the street before she spoke.
"Are you following me?" she teased in a serious voice. Owen laughed and took a sip from his beer.
"It would seem like you are the one following me."
"You're the one who suggested this restaurant."
"Never said I wasn't headed here myself. Come on up, I've got an extra seat," Owen prompted, nodding to the empty seat across from himself.
Gwyn rolled her eyes and made for the restaurant door, navigating her way to the stairs through the dinner crowd. Owen was busy nursing a beer when she approached the table, which was bathed in soft amber light that emanated from a lantern placed in the center of the table. Gwyn gestured to the chair that he'd previously offered, and he copied said gesture. As she took the seat, Owen waved over a waiter, who handed Gwyn a menu and assured he'd be back in a minute.
"So, did you call me up here to 'swap raptor stories'?" Gwyn teased lightly as she glanced over the menu. Glancing over the piece of cardstock, she watched as a faint pink tinge rose to his cheeks. He offered an awkward chuckle and dragged his fingers across the back of his neck, massaging at the stiff muscle beneath the skin. She found it interesting to see Owen, who was––from what she'd observed from the day before––confident and sure of himself, suddenly become so unsure and awkward. It was, dare she say, cute. What killed her, though, was that shy grin he gave her.
"I, uh… I promise I'm not that lame," he chuckled. "And, no, actually, I didn't. I figured that since we'll working closely together and we're already co-workers, we should get to know one another a bit better. What better way to do that than over dinner and drinks?"
"That's very thoughtful of you, actually," Gwyn complimented. Owen shrugged and glanced down at his hands, watching condensation slip down the side of the bottle. There was still a small smile gracing his lips, just barely quirking up the corners of his mouth. Gwyn tore her eyes away from him and looked back at the menu in her hands. A moment of silence passed between them before Owen cleared his throat and wetted his lips, ready to strike up conversation again.
"I never asked: how did you end up covered knee-to-toe in mud?" Owen asked. Gwyn smirked and pushed a few strands of pesky hair behind her ears.
"I fell whilst in pursuit of a brachiosaur," she told him. His brows shot upwards at the same time Gwyn snorted at the piece of cardstock in her hands. "Does everything here have to be titled with something dinosaur related?"
"It… certainly seems that way, but, wait––you were pursuing a brachiosaur?" He sounded surprised, with just a touch of concern in his warm toned voice. Gwyn nodded and continued to pour over the wince inducing named items on the menu. Pterodactyl Wings… could they be less creative? "Why?"
"It's my job, remember? I have to document dinosaur behaviour; best way to do that was follow it around. Unfortunately a three foot drop it about as concerning to a brachiosaur as a crack in the pavement is to us. I wasn't exactly paying attention…" she trailed off, setting the menu down, "and down I went. Have to admit, never thought that I would be chasing the dinosaurs… kinda figured that they'd be there to start chasing me. Again."
"Well, it's a good start then. You're showing them who's boss," Owen joked with a grin. Gwyn chuckled quietly, a sound that resonated warmly in the back of her throat. The waiter returned and tugged out a notepad with an expectant and cheery smile.
"What can I get you?" he asked.
"A, uh… Tyrannosaur Burger… and… a Mesozoic Margarita," Gwyn replied with a smile and a quiver in her voice that clearly showed how hard she was trying not to laugh. As the waiter disappeared to place her order, Gwyn turned her attention back to Owen. "Know if that drink's any good?"
"Have to admit, haven't had that one yet," Owen admitted. Gwyn laughed and reclined back in her seat, sighing contentedly into the evening air.
"Two kinds of tequila and the house margarita mix? Sounds like heaven in a souvenir cup, if you ask me," she laughed, picking at some dirt under her nail. Her tone had been so convincingly cheerful yet casual that Owen laughed, clutching onto his beer as he bent forward towards the table.
"Ahh, the souvenir cups are the best part," he sighed happily, pretending to look wistful. "Now you'll always remember your time working at Jurassic World."
"I'll put it right next to my Jurassic Park visitor's pass."
"You have much of that stuff? From the first park?" Owen asked curiously. The previous evening, he'd read maybe a quarter of Alan Grant's book detailing the events of the original Isla Nublar incident. He'd retired for the evening just as the Jeeps stalled on the way back to the visitor's center; which must have been why Gwyn had seemed so taken aback when he told her that she'd parked in front of the t-rex paddock. It was almost as though she'd been sucked into some strange sort of déjà-vu. Gwyn shrugged and scratched at the back of her head, thinking over her inventory of Park related things at home.
"Not really… I've got the pass, the plane ticket that got me to Costa Rica…" Her fingers rose to rest against her chest, "my scar… my dad's books… but, other than that not much. I kinda distanced myself from all things Jurassic Park post incident," Gwyn murmured. Owen twisted his bottle around on the tabletop, and she felt very aware of his eyes firmly locked onto her face.
"So, when you're not busy playing in the dirt, what is it you like to do?" he asked, steering the conversation in a different direction. "Ever dabbled in writing? 'Cause your dad's written a couple of books."
"Never written much outside of school papers, research reports, lectures, and field notes. I fear I may have too clinical of a writing style," Gwyn informed with a wry chuckle. "I do draw, though."
"Really?" Owen asked curiously, propping his elbow up on the back of his chair. Gwyn nodded and thanked the waiter, who had returned with her margarita.
"It took years of classes and dozens of sketches that looked more like chickens than velociraptors, but, I got there. Constant practice, as they say." She sipped at her drink, brows arching in surprise at how good it tasted. Honestly, she hadn't expected much, but was pleasantly surprised she'd been proved wrong. Setting the cup down on the table, she redirected her focus to Owen. "Anyway, how were the raptors today? Do anything particularly vicious?" She noted that Owen had pursed his lips, and she watched as he twirled his beer bottle around. There was a slight touch of uncomfortableness about his reaction to her words; of course there was––she'd essentially just insulted his most beloved creatures. Gwyn wiped a bead of condensation off her cup and cleared her throat. "Sorry, that was… unnecessarily bitter."
"You have every reason to be bitter about raptors; I mean, to be hunted by them?" He shook his head and exhaled, looking like he could hardly imagine something worse. "But, to answer your question, no, they didn't do anything particularly vicious. We just did a bit of hide and seek," Owen said. Laughter bubbled out of Gwyn's chest at the suggestion of playing such a game with the dangerous creatures. Owen's lips quirked into a quarter of a smirk and Gwyn's laughter induced smile began to wane as she realized something.
"Oh, my god, you're serious…"
"Dead serious. We use it as one of our training exercises; you'll probably get a chance to see it when you come down to observe the girls," Owen informed. "It's one of our more routine exercises. When were you planning on coming by, again?"
Gwyn tapped her fingers against the table one by one as she recounted what dinosaurs she needed to observe. Edmontosaurus, apatosaurus, metriacanthosaurus, pachyphalosaurus, stegosaurus, pteradons, and at least twelve others. She pulled a face as she calculated and arranged a make-shift schedule in her head. Once she got back to her bungalow she would have to solidify it, send it in to the higher-ups and the heads of each paddock or sector so they knew she was coming. It would probably be best to do the herbivores first, then move on to the carnivores… so that would put the velociraptors late in the schedule; and even further than that. Gwyn was well aware she was putting off personally interacting with the velociraptors, and she was vastly okay with them being the last dinosaurs she initially observed.
"I'd have to say… two weeks at least. I'll be sure to let you know if any of that changes. I'm sure that the dinosaurs won't always abide to a schedule that I make," Gwyn said. Owen snorted and moved his beer bottle so the waiter could set their food down. Owen had opted for the 'pterodactyl wings,' it would seem.
"Schedules are––unfortunately––a necessary evil. Dinosaurs are lucky they don't have to abide by them," Owen commented. Gwyn pursed her lips and watched the way the amber candle light flickered across the back of her hand. Looking up with a slight pinch between her brows and concern backlighting her expression. But that wasn't quite true, and she knew he knew it. Despite his suave attitude and boyish charm, he took his job and his surroundings seriously. They both very well knew all the dinosaurs at Jurassic World had scheduled feeding times and viewing times. They had times where they had to be certain places and not be in others at other times. But that was an entire other conversation to be had. So Gwyn just refitted the expression on her face into a smile.
"Oh, what it would be to be a dinosaur…" she chuckled, popping a french fry into her mouth. Owen cleared his throat and lifted his beer bottle in a pre-toast motion.
"Well, here's to you, Dr. Grant, and your first day at Jurassic World," he said with another one of his charming smiles. Gwyn returned the smile and lifted her margarita filled souvenir cup, accepting Owen's proffered toast. His smile grew a fraction, eyes crinkling at the corners when he let his bottle tip forward so the neck of it knocked against Gwyn's cup. Gwyn leaned one elbow atop the table and cradled her chin in her hand, smile softening somewhat.
"To a good start."
Afterword: To make up for not posting in awhile, I wrote a chapter that was ever-so-slightly longer than the others. I've had a stressful couple weeks and hit some serious creative blocks. But they've all disappeared now and I'm happy to be back and writing.
Review replies!
CarlyJo: I'm SO happy that little moment of awkward Owen came off well; I was worried it would seem out of character, but then I was like 'nah, he totally has those nerdy/awkward moments.' And, I forgot to mention last time, that the movie actually reacted a Jurassic World website, as though it were a real place, and they had pictures of the 'Hammond Suite' so I based it all off of that. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Thanks again!
NicoleR85: Gwyn's going to have some real interesting feelings/interactions/reactions when the movie events kick up. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
katy1986: As of this chapter, we'll see Gwyn and Owen interacting more. They'll start working together more and all that fun stuff will bring about some good moments. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
MidnightPenguin: I only wrote a small section about how she does her job because I'm still figuring out what she EXACTLY does. 'Cause once she's done all her basic observations, she's got to do routine check-ins, but, beyond that, still figuring all that out. And she did run into Owen––and I think it gave a nice end to the chapter. I hope you enjoyed reading the newest installment; thanks again!
heroherondaletotherescue: Next chapter I'll probably just pick up with Gwyn starting to work with Owen and what-not––'cause, otherwise, it would get kinda boring and repetitive with her going from paddock to paddock. And I'm really happy that you liked the awkward Owen moment; it came back to bite him this time around, ahaha! But they are yet to swap stories… but soon… soon enough, they'll crop back up. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
trinketsTricks: I'm very, very happy that you enjoy my work! It means a lot to know that you enjoy the story enough to come back and keep on reading. I hope that you stick around to read more and hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Crystal-Wolf-Guardain-967: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Fireblack: I take it that means you've been enjoying the story so far! I'm very glad that you've been enjoying it thus far! Thanks again!
blue-lily295: Yeah, Gwyn getting the chance to tell her story through her point of view will be a good thing/interesting to see. She's going to have some interesting moments with Rexy even if they're both on opposite sides of the glass. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Guest: I'm very happy that you found this story and have enjoyed it so far. I hope that you've stuck around to read more! Thanks again!
Xx High By The Beach xX: I'm glad you enjoyed last chapter and hope you enjoyed this one just as much! Thanks again!
Dark-Enough-Conspiracy-Theory: It's nice to hear that I've managed to grasp hold a unique take on the whole Alan's-daughter-at-Jurassic Park/World! And I'm very happy that you've enjoyed it so far––I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
lilnightmare17: I'm very happy you've enjoyed the story thus far and hope you continue to read! Thanks again!
paleontologist: Thank you! I shall continue forth! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, thanks again!
Myra the Dovahkiin: I'm very happy that you've enjoyed the story thus far and that you think it's starting to get interesting. I hope that you stick around to read more; thanks again!
kitsunelover300: We'll find out soon enough how Gwyn got the scar––and in my prequel I'll get the chance to actually write the scene out, so I'm really excited for that. Awkward!Owen is just so much fun to write. 'Cause he's usually so smooth and confident and sure of himself that writing him being awkward is a nice contrast/change. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
BaDwolF89: I hope that your craving for another chapter was satisfied with this one! Thanks again!
She-Wolf: It's… maybe a handful of months to a year or so before the events of Jurassic World––I'm mostly biding my time till the movie comes out on DVD/Blu-Ray. Once it comes out, I might change the time span. And Gwyn will meet Grey and Zach; maybe not before hand, but she will meet them. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
And thank you to those who have added this to their favorites/follows––it means a lot!
Forgot to do this last chapter, so I'm mentioning it now. Jurassic World has a website as though it were an actual park, and there are dozens of pages with maps and blurbs and whatnot. I've been using that as a reference, so places like Winston's Steakhouse and the botanical gardens and the Hammond Suite and Margaritaville are all based off of that. I'd go take a look at the site if you get a chance. It's pretty thorough and fun to browse through. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I'll see you all in the next one! Thanks again!
~Mary
