Thank you again to my one, sparkling reviewer. And thanks to everyone who followed, and favorited.

Margaritaville

Liz looked at her phone again, checking the time. Shit, it was only 8:30. She had been so nervous about meeting people that she had hopped the monorail early, unable to stand pacing around her new accommodations. Shelby had said that her group wouldn't be there until nine, so that left Liz with two options; either awkwardly wait outside, or grab a drink early. She twisted the strap to the little crossbody purse she carried and eyed the crowd apprehensively. Being in a new space surrounded by an unknown amount of people caused Liz's anxiety rise, making her ears ring. She considered going home. Just throwing in the towel and pretending she never came. But then she remembered that employees got a 25% discount on drinks. For that kind of deal, she could push through.

Early drinking it was.

Despite the amount of people, it was easy to maneuver to the bar, the layout obviously designed to help with the flow of almost constant guests. Most people had found tables, happily conversing over the loud, tacky music being played from unseen speakers. The lights had been dimmed, switching the atmosphere from overpriced luncheon spot to overpriced nighttime hangout. She was surprised to see a seat open at the bar and nearly lunged for it, snatching it before another patron could take the coveted spot. Almost instantly a bartender was in front of her, beaming a welcoming smile and sliding her a drink menu. Not one for mixed drinks, Liz eyed the menu while she dug for her debit card and employee ID and handed it over to the bartender.

"Is a Zombie any good?" She asked as he punched in her info, starting a tab before handing her back her things. She usually just drank beer, but she was feeling adventurous and with two types of tequila, brandy, and a mixing of fruit juices in it, whatever the hell a Zombie was sounded appealing.

The bartender gave another beaming smile and pulled a glass down to prepare her drink. "Dangerously so." He was obviously proud of what he did, and was good at it, as the drink was in front of her in less than a minute, complete with a cherry garnish stabbed with a toothpick that had a t-Rex head on it.

She took a quick sip, the rum sending a pleasant warmth down her throat and into her belly. It left a sweet, refreshing aftertaste, making Liz immediately want another sip. She pursed her lips and nodded. "Good shit." She said, but the bartender was already gone, sliding down to the next patron. She took another sip and looked around hoping to see Shelby, but to no avail, finally deciding that people watching was better than staring blankly into the back of the bar.

An odd couple caught her attention and she watched them out of the corner of her eye, trying not to look creepy. It looked like in might be a business meeting, as they both had a paper in front of them. The man was looking back and forth between it and the skinny redhead seated opposite him. Though his furrowed brow told her that whatever the woman had proposed, he hadn't been expecting. He said something that made the woman's spine stiffen, and the way he gave her a lopsided grin after obviously said that whatever he had meant hit the mark. The woman brushed at the side of her sickeningly perfect bob with a snap and said something back, making the man put down the piece of paper and look at her more directly. Liz couldn't make out what he said, but saw his lips move again, slightly more agitated this time. The redhead shot up, and thought she could hear something along the lines of, "Well this was pointless, anyway." Before she had snatched up her clutch and stormed off.

Liz watched as the man ran a hand through his dirty blond hair and chugged the majority of his beer before standing. She almost felt bad for him, seeing the look of frustration on his face as he crinkled up the papers and made his way to the bar. She spun quickly and pretended that one of the gaudy tiki lights was the most interesting thing she'd seen all day, not wanting to get caught staring. Her heart skipped a beat when he slid up right next to her, thinking he was going to tell her off for being creepy.

Instead his signaled to the bartender, obviously looking to close his tab. The bartender held up a hand in response, saying he'd be over as soon as he could. He drummed his fingers on the bar and caught eyes with Liz giving a quick smile.

He was more handsome up close then Liz had first realized. He had stunning blue eyes and a mustache that was just a touch longer than the stubble on his face. He was tanned in a way that said he did much of his work outside, and his hands had visible callouses. He wore a black t-shirt that was almost too tight and a pair of black board shorts with a subdued American flag printed across one leg. Liz thought he was just outside of her league, but with half her Zombie gone, she tried her hand at being friendly.

"Well that looked like it was a total disaster." She cringed internally when he snapped a look at her. Smooth. It softened when he realized she wasn't being nasty and he laughed a bit.

"Yeah, it definitely was." He pulled one of the crumpled papers out of his pocket and smoothed it as best he could. "I mean, look at this shit." He handed it over to Liz, who was surprised to find it was an itinerary. For a date. Who the hell does that!? She looked up when she came to the line titled Dietary restrictions. This lady had to be kidding. She let out a low whistle and handed the paper back.

"Well, she was thorough, I guess. But what the hell kind of diet lists Tequila as a restriction?"

The man sputtered over his beer and held out his hands. "That's what I said!" He gave Liz a quick once over. Even sitting down, he could tell she was short. Probably no more than 5' 2" with full hips and chest split by a tapered waist. She carried some extra weight on her tummy, but not so much so that he would've considered her "overweight." She was incredibly fair, with auburn curls piled into a loose bun at the top of her head. Pieces had fallen out to frame her round face. She wore winged black eyeliner on her top lid and red lipstick on her permanently pouty looking mouth. She wasn't exactly a bombshell, but he liked her look altogether.

He slid down into the seat that had just vacated next to her. "Owen Grady." He held out a hand.

Liz slipped hers into his, "Elizabeth Meyers."

When the bartender came over with Owen's check, he took it, but stopped. "Ya know what, Steve? Open me back up. I'll take another beer." He slid the check back unsigned and gave Liz a heart melting grin. "So, Elizabeth. What brings you to Jurassic World?"

Liz took a sip of her drink to keep from saying something snappy. People skills, Meyers. "Work." She said simply, but when his gaze didn't leave hers she elaborated. "I got hired on for security. I start Monday."

Owen gave an exaggerated nod that seemed to use his whole body while he took a sip of his beer. "Nice. Nice. I work here, too. But you know. It's classified."

"No, I don't know." Liz said, deadpan. "That's why it's called 'classified.'" Score one for her mouth moving faster than her brain.

Owen gave a good natured laugh, obviously not put off by her attitude. "Did they scout you?" Liz gave him a questioning look. "InGen, I mean. Where'd they find you? Coast Guard? Navy?" He leaned in, looking at her like he was trying to read her whole history in her eyes. "Don't tell me. Air Force?"

"VFW." She shot back, grinning when Owen nearly choked on his beer from laughing. She gave him a minute to recover. "Ex-Army. Went in at 18. Did my four years active, four reserve and got the hell out. I hated every minute of it." She spun the cherry garnish on its stick in her drink before popping it into her mouth. "Though if I had known just how hard it would be to get a job after I probably would've sucked it up."

"Ah, that's where they get ya." Owen said, pointing at her with his beer for emphasis. "Make it so you don't know anything else. All that talk of helping you through college. That's great and all, but then what?"

Liz gave him a side look. "Sounds like you're talking from experience. No, don't tell me." She said, imitating him as she pushed closer to look at his eyes. He stared right bag, eyes glinting mischievously. "Navy." She finally declared, making Owen sit back and throw his hands up good naturedly.

"You got me! Never got to that whole 'ex' thing. They took me right off." He rubbed the rim of his beer bottle on against his bottom lip absentmindedly, making Liz's belly heat up faster than 10 Zombies could've. She looked away into her drink. The damn bartender wasn't wrong, these things were dangerous. They made her social, and just a bit over confident. She shoved the empty glass away and called for another.

"So what'd you do?" Owen asked. "Ya know. In the Army?"

"Guess." Liz said, looking over the rim of her new glass. It had been a long time since she had played the game of subtle flirting disguised as small talk, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying it.

Owen made a "pfft" noise and made a face. "No way. We already did that."

"Yeah and I won." Liz retorted, shifting in her seat to face Owen more directly. "C'mon. Try."

He pulled his head back, pretending to think about it before leaning closer again.

He was closer than he was the last time, and she could see little flecks of deeper blue in his eyes. Lord, if Shelby didn't hurry up Liz was going to make her first mistake on the island and go home with this man.

He rattled off a bunch of generic jobs like military police, medic. He even asked if she had been an officer. All were wrong. "You're never going to get it." She teased, pushing a runaway curl behind her ear. By now Owen had slung an arm over the back of her chair and was leaning on it, making the muscles in his arms ripple.

Yeah, he was definitely laying it on thick. Liz wasn't sure if he was actually into her, or if he was just trying to mend his bruised ego from the redhead storming out on him. Honestly, she didn't care which. She was having fun.

"LIZ!" It was Shelby. Her voice snapped Liz out of whatever trance Owen had put her in, making her sit up and break eye contact to look for the petite brunette. She was waving frantically from the door, towing a lanky blonde woman behind her.

"Friends of yours?" Owen mumbled. She could tell he was upset by the intrusion.

"Sort of." Liz wasn't exactly happy, either. She was enjoying Owen's company and when she turned to tell him so, she could see him standing and signing off on his closed tab. Her heart sank a bit as he took his copy of the receipt.

"Wait!" Quickly, she flipped the copy and snatched a pen, writing down her number before holding it out to him. That second zombie had made her braver than she anticipated. "Text me sometime?" She asked, rolling with it.

Owen looked down, and for a moment Liz wasn't sure if he was going to take it. Finally he smiled and took the piece of paper, reading the number quick. "Maybe I will." He said playfully, tucking it into his wallet. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Liz."

I always loved the scene where you see Owen's flirtatious side come out just a bit, so I had a blast writing it.