Disclaimer: I do not own the Jurassic Park/World franchise or any of it's characters; I only own the characters and plots of my own mind.
20. Best Interests
Gwyn needed a coffee.
After the afternoon she had, she needed several coffees.
Apparently arguing your case to several scientists who were very against your point of view was exhausting. Nothing she said seemed to affect their opinion. When she told them it could have adverse effects on the animals, they told her that it worked fine with other dinosaurs on the island. When Gwyn said that the dinosaurs wanted to hunt, she was told that zoos didn't release live prey to their tigers. When she cited that not allowing the velociraptors and tyrannosaurus rex to hunt at the original park was the biggest cause for their aggression, she was told that 'this was different.' It became a four-on-one questioning war. The only person who had seemed at all interested to listening to her in any regard was Claire. While she had been acting as a kind of mediator for the argument, she wasn't so vehemently against letting Gwyn speak her mind––something that the paleontologist appreciated. While the arguing did not escalate into full-blown fighting, it did turn into a rousing discussion about whether or not dinosaurs needed social interaction, not just with each other, but with their human handlers as well.
Gwyn had been thoroughly questioned for a good two hours, while they all watched the Ingrid and Irene snap at the crane threateningly. Eventually the two Indominuses tore at the carcass swinging from the crane, apparently pleased at the ease of finding their food. The scientists seemed pleased with themselves, as did the present technicians. Gwyn had felt a drop in her stomach, well-aware that being fed by crane was going to become a novelty to Ingrid and Irene. And novelties like that would wear thin very quickly. In what seemed to be the loop her lab work was stuck in, Gwyn warned them of that novelty, and they said they'd take it into consideration. And they wouldn't.
"You should take the rest of the day off," said Claire, the only other person––aside from Gwyn and Pete––left in the viewing room. Half a smirk pulled across Gwyn's face while she shoved her tablet into her bag.
"I just need a break." Gwyn smiled over at Claire and shifted her bag onto her shoulder. "But thank you. And thank you for listening, you have… no idea how reassuring it is to know that at least one person is listening to you."
A flash of surprise seemed to quickly track over the woman's face. The corners of Claire's mouth then turned up a little and she clasped her tablet to her stomach. The smile was gentle and kind. "I understand. When it… feels like the world is against you, it's easy to lose your focus… and your temper."
Gwyn chuckled a little under her breath, half wondering if that was a subtle––but playful––dig at the 'failed' lecture she'd given.
"I imagine that you get a lot of that, too. Corporate jobs are no walk in the park," Gwyn said, digging her phone out of her bag. A graceful snort came from Claire's direction and her eyes widened a briefly––almost as though for comedic intent––in silent agreement.
"Correct. I know what it's like to need someone on your side… and how much of a difference having that person can make," Claire explained, still smiling gently.
Gwyn smiled back. It was, perhaps, the first time both women felt steadily on even ground with one another. They had found comradery in knowing what it felt like to fight off a hoard of strong-minded individuals who––sometimes––wanted nothing more than to see you fail. Claire had any number of corporate colleagues that might have wanted her position. Gwyn had Wu and his team, who wanted nothing more than to see her pack her bags and take her leave. But both women persisted. Both women didn't give up.
Gwyn glanced down at the screen of her phone; displayed were a handful to texts from Owen, informing her that he and Alan had moved from their lunch location and were waiting for her at Starbucks. There were no S.O.S. messages––from Alan or Owen––and there was nothing in the language of the messages that suggested a panic. Relief swept through her.
"Well, I'm gonna take my break and be back in an hour. I think if I leave my father with Owen for too much longer one of them will go insane," she deadpanned under her breath, tapping out a response to Owen's text.
The air in the room––which had been decidedly friendly––suddenly changed. It was distinctly tense. The words that Gwyn had just spoken seemed to linger almost dangerously. Claire's faint smile disappeared and her expression went slack; her mouth fell open as though to speak, but no words formed on her lips. One of her hands rose to tuck sleek strands of red hair behind her ear.
"Did you say… your father? A-as in Dr. Alan Grant?"
Gwyn laughed a little at the inquiry. "That is my father's name the last time I checked, yes."
"Why didn't you tell me your father was coming to the island?" Claire asked breathily, nearly sounding offended. She pulled the tablet away from her stomach and started to tap at the screen. Gwyn blinked at her, taken aback, and watched as Claire frantically started to scroll through something––a list of guest names if she could take a guess.
Gwyn shifted the strap of her bag over her head and onto the shoulder, which allowed the messenger bag to sit more comfortably. She shrugged, then, as though the answer should be obvious. "Because I didn't want the park's higher ups to pitch a fit. We all know that my dad isn't the biggest fan of the park, and I can imagine if anyone from park management decided to talk to him he'd have anything particularly kind to say."
"Nevertheless, we should have been informed." Claire's voice was laced with laughter caught somewhere between nervous and frantic. She exhaled sharply and stopped scrolling, having found what she was looking for. "He is here…" This was said in a mutter, but it was enough to confirm Gwyn's suspicions of her skimming a list of park patrons. Her shoulders squared a little and her delicate brows rose, professional persona once again in place. "We would have been able to take the correct measures––"
"The correct measures?" Gwyn chuckled and pocketed her phone. "What measures would you needed to have taken? He's a… seventy year old paleontologist, not a velociraptor."
It was Claire's turn to blink at her. The arm that had been holding her tablet aloft dropped to swing at her side. "I'm talking about security details; letting park security know that he was here so we could calm down any crowds that––"
"Crowds?" Gwyn couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past her lips in incredulity. Claire fixed her with a look, the seriousness of which was conveyed with pursed lips and a slight widening of her eyes.
"Yes, crowds. We put security on alert when you started to work here, and they still have instructions to assist you should you ever be mobbed."
Gwyn shook her head, still smiling incredulously. She gestured to herself and laughed for a second time. "Claire, we aren't… my father and I are just paleontologists from Montana, we aren't celebrities. The closest thing to 'celebrity status' we have is getting called 'paleontology royalty,' which we both think is a gross exaggeration. We've never been… mobbed for photographs or autographs. We live a… relatively calm life commuting between Bozeman and the Badlands."
Claire looked absolutely taken aback; her brows had started to furrow and her lips had parted. It was as if she was truly surprised that Gwyn did not think herself to be famous. Her eyelids fluttered a couple of times and she cleared her throat.
"I… think you fail to realize that here, on this island, you––and your father––are celebrities," Claire started to explain. "People are thrilled to catch a glimpse of you walking down Main Street. They want to come up to you and say hello so they can tell their friends back home that they met you. You just have the fortunate circumstance that people don't immediately recognize you, if they do at all. They're used to pictures of you as a child, or… some year old photograph from a paleontology journal in one of those 'where are they now?' articles. You and your father are part of this park's legacy… you are celebrities here because of the suffering you were forced to endure. And I want to make sure that neither of you are made uncomfortable because of that."
It was all Gwyn could do to stare. Claire had spoken with such surety and such wholeheartedness that she was truly taken aback. Thus far, their relationship had been strictly professional. They only saw one another at meetings, spoke to each other with jargon both professional and technical, and clashed whenever their equally strong personalities got the better of them. This was the first time that, despite talking about an issue of a professional nature, Claire sounded like a friend. Not a wary coworker, but a concerned friend. Gwyn cleared her throat and started to dig the tips of her fingers into the back of her neck.
"Um… thank you. Really, thank you. I, uh… I'm kinda oblivious to stuff like that; I like to pretend that I'm more normal than I am, I think," Gwyn said quietly. Before Claire could accept the thanks, however, Gwyn continued. "My dad is here for another three days, if you still need to inform anyone. He leaves Tuesday morning."
Claire smiled at Gwyn––a wholeheartedly genuine one, not marred by professional barriers. "Thank you. I'll go through the proper channels to alert park security––and try and keep the news out of the hands of anyone who might make it unnecessarily public."
"Thank you, Claire."
"You're very welcome, Gwyn."
OOOO
Upon entering Starbucks, Gwyn was immediately enveloped in the savory––and nearly heavenly––smell of ground coffee beans. A quick scan of the shop found both Owen and Alan seated at a table in the far corner. Where she might have been scared they'd be sitting there in awkward silence, both men appeared to be engaged heavily in conversation. A conversation they were so fully invested in that neither of them initially noticed her approach.
"––and velociraptors, they're viciously intelligent. I don't think people realize how dangerous that is," Alan was saying as Gwyn approached. His back was to her, so she couldn't see his expression, but she was very much able to see Owen's. She watched his eyebrows jump skyward in agreement. He gestured to the older man as though to silently say 'exactly.' "Once they've got a ring leader and an organized pack dynamic, they're a force to be reckoned with."
"Precisely. It's remarkable to see the chain of command and how that dictates the… dynamic, the hunting patterns, their personalities," Owen agreed.
There was a light snort from Alan, and Gwyn watched his shoulders jump with the sound. "Personalities?"
Owen nodded his head and casually crossed his arms over his chest. It sounded and looked like the two had been colleagues for years, going over topics of discussion that they constantly vamped about. "Yeah. Each one of them has a distinct personality, and each personality affects the group. Two of the girls like to pick fights––sometimes for fun, sometimes because they're frustrated or bored. One of them is more mellow, tries to stay out of meaningless scraps. And the beta, she tries to keep the rest of her sisters in check when they're misbehaving. All of those traits forms a specific kind of dynamic, just like a group of humans would have."
There was a low, considering hum from Alan, and he, too, leaned back in his chair with a casual air about him. Gwyn took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to make her presence known.
"Gotta say, part of me was worried the park would be up in flames by the time I caught up to you two," she joked with a tired smirk. Alan twisted around in his seat a little to look to his daughter, and Owen's eyes snapped towards her the minute her voice caught his ear. Her smirk became a smile. "Glad that it isn't."
"You look like you've been put through the ringer," Alan commented flatly. Gwyn snorted and rubbed at the spot between her eyebrows, which had spent most of the afternoon creased and pinched in frustration.
"Oh, I was. I just spent the last two hours arguing non-stop with a bunch of single minded scientists. I am in desperate need of a coffee, so I'll be right back." Gwyn was about to turn away, hand already fishing into her pocket for some money, when Owen held up a hand to stop her.
"No need, already got you covered," he said.
He picked up a large coffee from off the table beside him and held it out to her. Gwyn blinked at it before she took it from his hand and briefly scanned the scrawl of black sharpie on the side of the cup. It was perfectly ordered, just what she usually got. Some amount of tension in her shoulders slipped away and she made a greatful sound at the back of her throat.
"Oh, I could kiss you right now," Gwyn sighed, not thinking about the words that had just fallen from her lips. Owen blinked up at her, their gazes locked, clear thrown by the comment. He let out a very intelligent 'uh…' in response. With cheeks starting to flood with color, Gwyn brought the cup up to her lips to take a well-needed gulp of coffee.
"Not in front of me you aren't," deadpanned Alan. He arched an eyebrow at his daughter when her eyes flickered over to meet his. She was quick to look away and bring the cup up to her lips.
The coffee washed over Gwyn's tongue and––much to her embarrassed delight––she realized that it needed more sugar. It gave her an out to the awkward situation she'd just set up for herself. "This, uh… needs a little more sugar, give me a second."
Gwyn retreated to a small counter in the center of the store, on which an array of sweeteners and creamers were displayed. She set her coffee down and took a moment to grimace in self-beratement. Of course on top of the already stressful day she had to make a fool of herself, of course. Letting out a steady exhale, Gwyn shook her head and rolled her shoulders and neck a little to ease the self-caused tension. She pried the top of her coffee cup off and set it aside, simultaneously reaching for a packet of sugar.
"Looks like you had a rough day."
The groan that stunted itself in the back of Gwyn's throat was tired and very much had a 'why me' quality to it. "I suggest you reevaluate whatever you're about to say to me, Hoskins, because I won't be as nice as I was last time," she sighed.
"Sounds like you had a rough day," Hoskins chuckled. He slipped into the empty spot at the counter beside her and set his own coffee cup down. He popped the top off the cup and reached for the container of half-and-half. "Who's to say I was coming to have our regular chat? What if I just wanted to ask about your day?"
Gwyn snorted and ripped the sugar packet open; she dumped it into the foam that topped her coffee and flicked the packet to make sure all the granulated sweetness had emptied. "Because you never want to ask about my day. You only ever want to sell me on your war schemes." Before she could reach for a stirring stick, Hoskins offered her one. With a little attitude, Gwyn snatched the stick from his hand and plunged it into her cup.
"Nah, not today. Looks like you've had a rough go of it," he told her. "You get a little more feisty when you've had a bad day, and we don't want anyone to have to call Miss Dearing."
Under her breath, Gwyn chuckled––a genuine chuckle, which was surprising because Hoskins often only inspired frustration in her. The two went about fixing their coffees in silence for a moment, both of them checking the tastes before either adding a little more sugar, or a little more half-and-half. When her coffee was perfectly to her tastes, Gwyn pressed the lid back onto her cup and opened her mouth to say goodbye; but Hoskins beat her to the punch by saying something else.
"Who's the old guy?" he asked. Gwyn blinked at him, the words hitting her in the face but not quite registering.
"What?"
Hoskins jerked his chin towards the corner of the store that she had come from. "The old geezer sitting with Owen, who is he?"
Gwyn pressed a hand onto the countertop and let the other rise to brace against her hip. She turned to face the head of InGen's security department, a corner of her mouth pulling down with a sincere lack of amusement. "That's my father."
There was a beat in which Hoskins took a pause, the container of half-and-half hovering an inch above the countertop. Then a grin overtook his face and he set the container down. That grin was turned on Gwyn, who could see his eyes sparkling with something almost playful.
"Is that right? I wasn't aware there was gonna be a family reunion," he drawled.
"That's because it's none of your business," Gwyn laughed flatly.
"Why don't I go over and introduce myself." It was a statement, not a question.
"Absolutely not."
"I think we'd get along great."
"I think that my father would push his sleeves back to fight you."
"What's going on here?" drawled the flat, wary tone of Alan Grant.
Gwyn's head whipped around to spot Alan standing just behind her, eyes narrowed and dancing between the two park employees. His brows furrowed upon noticing the displeased expression on his daughter's face. She cleared her throat and returned her gaze to Hoskins; he was beaming. One of his hands stretched out, past Gwyn in order to offer it to Alan. Gwyn turned to the side as she mashed her lips together; she caught sight of Owen, stood just behind Alan, who looked just as displeased as she did.
"Vic Hoskins, head of InGen's Security Division."
Alan slowly accepted the offered handshake, a wary downturn to his lips appearing. "Dr. Alan Grant."
"Absolute pleasure, Dr. Grant. And an… honor to be standing in the presence of both Dr. Grants at the same time," Hoskins said, pretending to gush as much as he could. His eyes started to flick back and forth between father and daughter, his grin growing wider with each pass. A laugh pushed past his lips and he raised a hand to vaguely gesture at the two. "Uncanny. I couldn't see the resemblance before, but now I can. It's in the, uh… eyebrows. The mouth." Hoskins gestured to the furrowed brows and downturned mouths on both of the Grants. "Both have the exact same expression, it's uncanny."
Alan snorted and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Thank you for pointing out the wonders of genetics."
Hoskins laughed and clapped his hands; he waggled a finger at Alan, as though he was an old friend that had just said a hilarious joke.
"And the sarcastic deadpan, too! Amazing."
"From the looks of what I saw, you were bothering my daughter, Mr. Hoskins," Alan said, his tone cautionary.
Gwyn pinched the bridge of her nose with a quiet grunt; there was nothing she could to do stop in inevitable shit storm that was about to happen. They were going to get thrown out of Starbucks for disturbing the peace of park patrons, and then she'd have a fat suspension hanging over her head again.
"Bothering? Oh, no, we were just talking about her day––looks like it was a tough one. Now, uh, why don't I finish fixing up my coffee and we can all sit down and have a nice chat?" Hoskins offered, positively beaming. He clearly thought he had an in. That he was going to be triumphant.
Alan looked about ready to snap at the other man's flippant behavior.
Then, stepping forward, Owen forced a tight smile across his face and clapped a hand atop Hoskins' shoulder. "See, these two are going to catch up and don't have time for a chat. I, on the other hand, do. Whaddya say that we go back to the paddock so you can… annoy everyone there and get your weekly visit out of the way?"
There was a beat of silence, where everyone simply stood still and took everyone else in. It was like a standoff in an old Spaghetti Western. Hoskins' eyes swept over everyone, the lingering smile on his face tense but still amused. That smile then grew, accompanied by a chuckle.
"Yeah. Yeah, alright. It was an honor to meet you, Dr. Grant––truly." Hoskins looked over at Gwyn, his smile becoming a little more crooked. "And always a pleasure to see you, Gwyn. Hope to have that chat with you sometime soon."
"Alright, let's get moving," Owen prompted, jerking his head towards the exit. Hoskins started to take his leave, Owen lingering behind him for a moment. His eyes flicked over to Gwyn, who immediately––tiredly, thankfully––mouthed 'thank you.' He nodded simply in return before turning his attention to Alan. "It's been a pleasure to spend the afternoon with you, Dr. Grant. I hope you enjoy the rest of your time on the island."
Both Grants watched the two men exit Starbucks and make their way down Main Street. Father and daughter were quiet for a moment, till Gwyn sighed and tossed the wooden stirring stick into the trash. Beside her, Alan grunted half of a chuckle, his eyes still trained on the door.
"What a nuisance of a man," he deadpanned. Gwyn arched an eyebrow and glanced at the door over her shoulder.
"Who're you talking about?" she asked.
"The ball of sunshine that heads the security services. I'm not talking about your precious Mr. Grady, don't worry."
A groan was pulled from Gwyn's throat, and she suddenly wished that she was back at the Indominus paddock, arguing with Wu. She snagged her coffee cup off the counter and headed back to the table that Alan and Owen had vacated. She shifted the latter man's abandoned coffee aside and put hers in its place. When Alan sat down across from her, Gwyn raised an eyebrow inquiringly.
"How was lunch?" she asked.
Alan considered the question for an almost concerningly long period of time. He twisted the sleeve on his cup around, the smooth sound of cardboard sliding across paper filling the silence. There was a faint crease between his brows and the corners of his mouth had turned down a little. When Alan lifted his eyes, he met Gwyn's gaze directly.
"I was pleasantly surprised by Mr. Grady, I have to admit. You speak very positively of him, and you have every right to. He didn't attempt to endear himself to me, and I respect that. I was worried, I'll admit, that he'd be too much of a… man's man. I've known a lot of guys like that… but he did good, proved me wrong. And that's good. Any man who's near head-over-heels for my little girl has to be trustworthy," Alan finished casually. So casually, in fact, that it took a moment for Gwyn to realize what he had just said.
When it did hit her, Gwyn sputtered through a sip of coffee, coughing as some of the hot liquid hit the back of her throat wrong. She thumped a hand against her chest, face scrunched up, as she gaped at her father. "I'm sorry what?" she croaked.
Alan blinked at her flatly.
"The man knows your coffee order like the back of his hand. No hesitation. We lived in the same house for some… twenty-three years and I never knew how you took your coffee the way he does."
Gwyn scoffed and dabbed the back of her hand at the corner of her mouth, which was damp with residual coffee. "Yeah, well… you're my father, parents don't usually… know those kinds of things," Gwyn argued.
"I still pick up your coffee order and get it wrong."
"Okay, but… knowing how I take my coffee isn't indicative that he's head-over-heels for me, Dad."
With a relenting nod, Alan made an 'okay' kind of face, holding up a hand to yield to her point silently. Then, after a beat, he continued on. "You've only known each other for, what, half a year? He talked about you like you'd known each other for a lifetime. That boy spoke of you with… such admiration. It was clear that he admired your… strength and perseverance… everything," he drawled. He raised his eyebrows pointedly and took a sip of his coffee.
A breathy laugh was all that Gwyn could manage to utter. She swept a hand through the air, like the motion would bring about some kind of sentence. Any kind of sentence. But, for whatever reason, she felt as though she were struck dumb. The words simply wouldn't manifest. And it was all because the idea of Owen being so taken by her rendered her tongue-tied. The idea of trying to continuously deny her father's observations was juvenile; she was perfectly aware of how much she flirted with Owen, and how much he flirted in return. The idea that he could return her feelings was entirely possible, and Gwyn knew that. It made her cheeks flush with heat that she hoped could pass as a sunburn. But her father snorted a chuckle on the other side of the table, which told her that Alan had picked up on it. So Gwyn scoffed a little under her breath––attempting to be dismissive––and turned her gaze out the window.
"Yeah, he talks about you the way you talk about him," Alan said lightly. "And we both know you get this tone––"
Gwyn's head lolled back and she covered her face with a hand. "Dad."
"––it's all… light, and gentle. Smitten almost."
"Why do you always bring that up? Every time…"
"It's my job as your father," Alan reminded, his voice flat but playful. Gwyn lifted her head and glared at him goodnaturedly; she then scooped up her coffee and arched a brow at him.
"To embarrass me? Yeah, you're doing a good job of that," she deadpanned.
Alan fixed her with a fatherly look with raised brows and eyes that glittered knowingly. He sat forward and braced his forearms atop the table, coffee still clutched in one hand.
"If you're tripping after some guy, and he's tripping after you, too… and if you're both making it painfully obvious…" Alan paused and let Gwyn flick a balled-up napkin at him from across the table. He reached a hand out and placed it over one of hers, squeezing it lovingly. His hand was warmer thanks to the heat of his coffee cup. "All I'm trying to say is… I need to know if this boy is worth your time and your affection. Because I can't blame him for falling for such a brilliant woman––I just need to know if he's worthy of you falling for him. It's like you said: I'm your dad. It's my job to see to your best interests."
A smile started to spread across Gwyn's face. No matter how old she got, Alan was just as fiercely protective of her as he was when she was young. And no matter how old she got, it made her smile. There were, of course, circumstances where that protectiveness arched into over-protectiveness, and then the smiling disappeared and the scowling began. But this time around, it was a classic case of a father being skeptical of a man that spent time with his daughter. A man that his daughter did, indeed, have feelings for. Gwyn clasped Alan's hand between hers and gave it a squeeze.
"And have you formed an opinion?"
Alan chewed the thought over, his eyes narrowing and crinkling at the corners. His lips quirked to one side and mashed together. To anyone else, the look might have frightened them, believing his thoughts to be negative; but having known the man for the thirty-some years of her life, Gwyn knew that his thinking face was just particularly intense.
"I'm still wary. One afternoon isn't enough to form a lasting opinion. Like I said, he defied what my initial expectation of him was… and that's a good start. And I know that, in the long run, it's none of my business, but I'm a nosy old man that wants to protect his daughter." Alan considered Gwyn with a critical eye; one of his greyed eyebrows rose. "So I'm right? You do have a… thing for this boy?"
Gwyn laughed and she fixed her father with a look, a smile split across her face. "Why do you keep calling him a 'boy'? He has a name," she laughed. Alan's other brow rose, making his look a little more pointed. Gwyn's incredulous smile waned into something softer. She pressed her lips together, smile momentarily disappearing, before it reappeared in the gentlest of manners. "Yeah. You're right."
For a moment, Alan's expression didn't change. He just started at her as the words Gwyn had just spoken settled and sank in. Then one corner of his mouth pulled to the side and he chuckled a little. The hand that sandwiched between hers extracted itself and came to rest atop them. He patted her hand a little and nodded.
"Like I said, it's really none of my business who you decide to date…" Alan trailed off in a deadpan, one brow arching.
"But you'll let me know if you don't approve," Gwyn laughed and rolled her eyes, "I know."
Alan shrugged his shoulders and back in his chair. He smirked at his coffee cup, which he drew up to his lips in an almost sly action.
"He's got a ways to go to convince me he's good enough for my little girl… But, I guess it's probably time to take bets which one of you two's gonna have the balls to make the first move––my money's on you."
"Dad."
Afterword: There was more stuff I wanted to put in this chapter, but it would have been way too long. So I cut it off here with the promise that there's some gooooooood stuff coming up in the next couple of chapters.
Review replies!
ObsessedFangirl96: Protective-Dad-Alan is the best Alan. He's fun to write. We'll get that good awkward convo with Owen about his relationship with Gwyn next chapter… 'cause Alan had to have that talk with his daughter first. Lowery will definitely get the chance to meet Alan, and I'm still contemplating whether or not Wu gets the fortune to see him again. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
suzii3499: I'm on the same boat as you, I really wanted Alan to pop up in Jurassic World––even as a quote or a TV interview about the park. Here's to hoping that could still be a thing in the next film. But I'm happy that I did his return justice! Alan's comfortably (kinda) set into Jurassic World for the moment, so he'll be around for a couple more chapters, but he will have to leave eventually. But we'll see loads more of him in the future, post Jurassic World pre Fallen Kingdom. And writing Alan's deadpan bits are my absolute favorite. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
SabakuNoGaara426: The crane never means anything good––the desensitization to human interaction isn't the best thing. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Thanks again!
katy1986: Dad-Alan is my favorite Alan to write. It just amps up his deadpan and his protectiveness. And I had… such a blast writing Owen and Alan having a conversation, and I'm excited that I get to do it again. I hope that you enjoyed the new chapter; thanks again!
MissMeSoBadly: I'm happy I could make your day! I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and were just as excited to read it as the last one; thanks again!
NicoleR85: Alan's top priority regarding Gwyn on the island is her safety. And he is definitely pleased to know that that is one of Owen's top priorities, too. Stuff with the Indominuses is starting to ramp up… and it's only gonna keep ramping up. I had a lovely Thanksgiving, and I hope you did, too! Have a happy holiday season and a lovely new years!
RHatch89: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
NoVacancyMind: I miss this story when I don't get opportunities to write it; and I think about it a lot to formulate new ideas so I know exactly what to write when I have the time. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
monkeybaby: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
supboyyyy93: Owen is certainly taking steps in the right direction to prove himself to Alan! The interrogation of Papa Alan will continue next chapter, don't you worry. And now that Hoskins knows Alan is here… and Claire knows… it's only inevitable that word will spread around the park. Because I've had the feeling that if Alan ever did show up at the park, the hard-core dinosaur/paleontology/park fans would be the ones to notice. Other guests wouldn't quite notice as they passed by; but I think if word got out, they'd keep a closer eye out. So we'll see what happens to our grumpy Alan Grant… and how that'll affect Gwyn's so far very relaxed life at Jurassic World. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
AugustRrush: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
AmericaNidiot: Well, I hope you enjoyed the chapter then! And I hope that you enjoyed this one as well; thanks again!
WaywardandWanderlust: Thank you! I had loads of fun with Alan and Owen; and maybe––just maybe...––we'll get some more of Alan's POV next chapter. I hope that you enjoyed the next chapter! Thanks again!
Guest 1: Thank you so much! I hope that you enjoyed the new chapter!
Guest 2: It was very interesting to think about how Alan would react to being at Jurassic World. Because I think that he would somehow manage to retain his disgust and dislike, but only so thinly that if asked about what he thinks, he'd let it all loose. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Thanks again!
And thank you to those that added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!
And that's it for now! Everything is gonna start picking up soon, because I would… really like to get to the movie events soon, and I'm sure that you all do too. I never expected to have 20 chapters of lead up for this story! But I'm glad you're all enjoying it! Thanks again!
Happy holidays!
~Mary