Doing a twofer post here because I think it's better to get an overview of where I'm going with this.

Owen shifted in his seat in the Rolls Royce, glancing at Len out of the corner of his eye. While she was agitated and anxious, she did not look out of place in the lap of luxury. She had been quiet on the flight, but accepted the obviously expensive champagne when offered by the flight attendant. In the car, she casually answered questions from Jerry, unfazed by it all. While they did not speak much of their pasts, he had to admit it worried him that this was what she wanted, not their quiet cabin in Montana. Maybe Jane was on the right track, she did want a more normal life than they lived.

"You okay?" Her voice pulled him back to the present. When he turned, he saw her arching an eyebrow at him and reaching out for his hand.

"Fine," he mumbled, threading his fingers through hers. "Just feel like I'm messing up the leather. Why the hell are the seats white?"

"I think Michael can afford to have it cleaned, even if you were head to toe a ball of dirt, baby." Her grin almost brought him out of his mood, god he loved her smile.

"Not the point," he muttered.

"Just enjoy it, how often do we get to ride in a private car from our private jet to a giant mansion?"

That was the cold bucket of ice back to reality he needed. She was comfortable, enjoying all the ostentatiousness, and that was just not something he could offer. Under his breath, he muttered about the lavishness of the whole thing, but as soon as he noticed her watching him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, he stopped. "What?"

"It's a car ride, Owen," she said. "I don't think they even considered covering it in the Geneva Convention."

"A car ride is a Ford, not a Rolls Royce," he grumbled. "This is just showing off."

"I love you," she laughed, squeezing his hand gently.

He squeezed back and looked back out the window. Was it enough that he loved her too? Or did she want all this…bullshit? Admittedly, the idea of proposing to her was…daunting, to say the least. The whole marriage thing always struck him as just pointless paperwork. Hell, he supposed if he was going to marry anyone, it would be Len. Maybe the whole damned thing was just getting inside his head, freaking him out.

As they pulled up to Michael's mansion and came to a stop, he saw Joan Grant waiting in the doorway for them. Len smiled at him briefly before hopping out of the car to greet her, pulling her into a quick hug. He gave them a minute then slowly got out of the car to join them.

"Hey Owen!" Jo greeted him.

"Jo."

"What's going on? What's with all the…hush hush, fly us to Sacramento?" Len asked, gesturing back at the Rolls Royce.

Jo glanced over her shoulder and back to them. "I…Michael and Claire are up in the office. You should talk to them."

"That bad, huh?" Owen said, resting a hand at the small of Len's back.

Jo pursed her lips, then turned back to the open door and started walking. "I'll let them tell you, come on."

Len shot him a look, her jaw tensed and eyes narrowed. He shook his head, not really sure what to make of it either. "After you."

Claire Dearing paced back and forth in Michael's home office. The last two years should have gone better, considering how much Michael had cooperated with the victims. Even thinking about the guests as victims made her wince.

"Claire, sit down, you're going to put a dent in my floor," Michael laughed.

"How are you so relaxed?" she sighed, turning to look at him. He was sitting perfectly still behind his desk, looking for all intents and purposes like it was any normal day. It reminded her of Simon, the part of Simon that irritated her.

"I've got you here to worry a hole in my floor," he said, smiling. "Why do I need to add to that?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You could at least look a little bothered."

"Claire, we're going to be fine," he assured her. "Even after all the settlements, all the healthcare payments, funeral expenses, after all that we're not in the red. My uncle saw to that."

Deflating, she sat down in the chair opposite him. "How can you not be upset?"

"Claire, it's done," he said, folding his hands on the desk. "I can't reverse it. We're about to do the only thing we can do here."

Of course he was right, but something inside her was not content with it. Crossing her arms, she sighed. The sound of a car pulling up hit her ears through the open window and her leg began bouncing impatiently.

"Relax, Claire," Michael said. It reminded her so much of his uncle, the look in his eyes and the way he spoke. How the hell that family could be so relaxed in situations like this absolutely baffled her.

To say Michael's home office was ostentatious would be an understatement. It was all wood panelling and lush, rich fabrics, and high vaulted ceilings. Honestly, it looked straight out of the movies. Even in her childhood, Lennie had never seen something so over-the-top. Off to the side she saw Claire sitting at the desk, looking tense. Claire nodded a greeting to them, but remained seated.

Jo took a seat at the desk next to Michael's seat.

A glance to her left showed her Owen was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. She had the impression he would rather be back fighting the Indominus than where they were.

Sliding her hand around his waist and up along his back, she rubbed gently at the spot between his shoulders.

Before she could say anything Michael stepped up from his desk. "Lennie! Owen! Glad you could make it!"

"Jerry said it was urgent," Lennie said, accepting his handshake. "What's going on?"

Michael tensed as he shook Owen's hand, and the smile he wore stiffened in place. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing back to the desk.

Lennie looked at Owen briefly, then took a seat across from Michael, taking hold of Owen's hand.

Michael sighed and glanced at Claire, then said, "We lost InGen."

"What?" she and Owen exclaimed together.

"How?" Owen asked.

At the same time Len asked, "To who?"

Claire glanced at Michael and when he nodded, she said, "We've been in litigation for a takeover for the last 2 years. A company called Mantah Corp."

Owen's jaw tensed. "Mantah Corp?"

"You know them?" Michael asked.

"They've reached out to us…a lot since the park," Lennie replied, squeezing Owen's hand. "Said they wanted our unique skills."

Michael and Claire exchanged a look while Jo bit out a lengthy stream of colourful words. It was almost impressive, the number of different words she used. Not all of them were English.

"What are you thinking?" Owen prompted them. It took everything in her not to reach out to calm his bouncing leg.

"We think they're going to Isla Nublar," Michael muttered slowly. "Looking for any…assets left behind…."

Lennie gaped for a moment, trying to find the words. "What…what for?"

"Do you think that's who Hoskins was raiding the labs for?" Owen put in. His jaw was tense, his eyes narrowed, while the corner of his left eye twitched. He was pissed.

Claire shook her head. "Why would they need to go back? Hoskins got information out, possibly even some of our scientists along with it."

"Then what the hell do they want InGen for?" Lennie exclaimed.

Claire shrugged while Michael said, "No idea. But we want to go back to Isla Nublar before they do."

Arching an eyebrow, Lennie asked, "On a scale of pirated DVD to…murder, how illegal is this?"

Jo laughed, but Michael replied, "Technically we still own Isla Nublar - the deed was transferred from InGen to Masrani Global. We just don't own the InGen parts."

"The InGen parts?" Lennie echoed. "Like…the entire park?"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Owen's lips twitch in the smallest smile. At least he was cheering up a little.

But Claire was less impressed. She rolled her eyes a little and huffed, "What we have planned is…more or less perfectly legal."

"More or less?" Owen echoed.

Again, Claire shrugged.

"We're hoping we can either find out what they want to do or gather enough information to protect the animals," Michael added. "We've founded a new charity, the Dinosaur Protection Group. If we can get enough evidence, we can use the charity's authority to protect every animal on that island."

"How?" Owen sat forward at that, probably thinking about protecting Blue.

"There were a lot of hoops we needed to jump through, but Claire took the reigns while I was trying to stop Mantah Corp." Michael scrubbed a hand across his chin. "Suffice to say we can ensure the animals there aren't exploited."

"The ones we know about," Jo put in. "Dad said that in the original park he saw eggs. Hatched eggs. It's possible that the DNA used to fill in the gene sequence has let them reproduce."

"I remember he said they found the same on Site B," Lennie said, remembering how shaken Dr. Grant was when he returned. Now she understood why. But they still could not just abandon them to some corporation.

"But we'll be able to save Blue," Owen muttered.

Michael hesitated, glancing at Joan. "Yes."

Lennie saw Owen open his mouth, ready to push back on the hesitation, so she stepped in. "Can we get them off the island?"

Instead of answering, Michael looked at Claire to reply. "We…we don't know yet," Claire admitted. "But we can tie it up in the courts to keep the animals safe while we figure it out. And don't forget the court of public opinion. It's going to be all about marketing the idea of saving the dinosaurs to regular people to get them on our side. But we can certainly generate enough red tape in the meantime to stop whatever they're planning."

"If we can get what we need on the island," Jo added quietly.

Abruptly, Owen stood and stalked out of the room, leaving everyone but Lennie gaping after him.

Jo blinked. "Is…."

"Where's he…," Claire put in.

Lennie shook her head. It was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking, but she knew he needed to be alone. "Let him process for a minute, I'll go talk to him when he's had the chance."

"You're sure? He looked pretty pissed." Michael looked at Jo, then back to Lennie.

"He's not, that's just his face," Lennie said, forcing a smile. Truth be told, he probably was pissed. But pushing him would not help. "So, when do we leave?"

Even the balconies in this damned place were overboard. Who the hell needed marble balconies? Shaking his head, Owen hung up the phone. At least he was able to reach Barry and get him to agree to meet them in Costa Rica in the morning. What a fucking day. They went directly from Len's office to the airport, then to Michael's place. Somehow it was only nine at night.

Leaning forward on the balcony railing he looked out across the property. At least one thing he could give it was that it was not some soulless building. It had character. Winding staircases, marble balconies, colonnades, and a pretty nice pool as far as they go. He still preferred the lake by their cabin, but at least it was not all cold angles and zero personality. A sigh escaped him and he hung his head. Was this shit what Len wanted? No way in hell could he give her that. Not only could he not afford it, it just was not who he was. Up until today he had not thought it was her either, if he was honest. But she was just so at home every step of the way.

"Owen?" Her voice shook him out of it and he grunted a greeting as she joined him. "You okay?"

He puffed out a quick laugh in reply. How the hell was he supposed to explain everything going on in his head when he was still trying to figure it out.

From the corner of his eye he saw her nod, but she did not say another word. Just leaned on the railing next to him, looking out over the landscape. In the entire time he had known her, she never pushed him to talk. Sure, she pushed back during fights, but it was like she knew when to and when not to push. It was one of the things he loved about her.

"Michael's got a pretty nice place," she muttered.

"Does he?" Judging by the way she turned to look at him when he spoke, his attempt to keep his voice neutral had failed spectacularly.

"If you're into that sort of thing," she said.

He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept staring straight ahead and asked, "Are you?" It was probably not a good idea to keep fiddling with his phone over the balcony ledge, so he pocketed it. When he realised Len was not going to answer him, he glanced at her and saw her hanging her head. Whatever was on her mind, he could not read her. "Len?"

She reached up to rub at the back of her neck and sighed. "No, Owen, I'm not into this sort of thing." Shaking her head, she continued, "I grew up with this. Left it for a reason. Haven't spoken to my parents since."

How the hell had he not known that? Almost a decade as friends, nearly three years together. He had just assumed her parents had died, like his had. She never mentioned them. Nobody met her in San Jose to make sure she was okay. What was the saying? Assumption is the mother of all fuck ups? Man, he felt like an ass for not asking.

Len stood up straighter and turned to face him. "Plane leaves at midnight," she said. "We should get ready."

Before she could leave, he pulled her into his arms and rested his head on top of hers. Maybe now was not the time for a bigger conversation, but he could at least provide some comfort.

Her arms held him tightly around the middle until he felt her relax somewhat. Then she pulled back and said, "Let's go."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "What about you? You okay?"

"Much as I can be."

"She'll be okay, Blue's a tough girl."

Len was right, mostly. But depending on Mantah's intentions…. He shook his head to clear it. They could worry about that later. "Yeah."

Len pushed up on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Ready?"

"After you, baby," he said, gesturing back inside.

The sound of her laughter surprised him and made him smile. "You just want to watch my ass while I walk away."

"Can you blame me? It's a nice ass," he said, giving it a little tap as she walked toward the door.

Len turned, eyes narrowed, and smirked at him. "Let's go, you perv."