AN: Sliiiiiightly more risqué than the previous two stories, but not explicit by any means. (Written to "Becoming One of "the people"/Becoming One with Neytiri off of the Avatar soundtrack)

Summary: What would Owen be like when he came undone?

...

Claire wanted to see him come undone. She didn't know what it was about Owen; maybe it was his quiet strength, or the fact that he was a leader without meaning to be, or that he always seemed to be holding back part of himself, just a little, but she thought about it constantly. What would he be like when he was most vulnerable? What would she be like with him?

She'd been locked in those thoughts for weeks now, trapped in a perpetual state of lust and need and she wasn't quite sure what to do about it other than tell Owen, but Claire had never been good at communicating her emotions. And now she had a wedding band on her finger and Owen had a matching one on his and she was about to figure out exactly what Owen was like in the bedroom whether she wanted to or not.

Claire wanted to know -really, really wanted to- but it had been so long since she'd been with someone and she'd never had a relationship like the one she shared with Owen: natural, loving, and right.

She glanced over at him; he was driving them to a hotel somewhere, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her thigh, circling his fingers gently against the soft cotton of her dress. They'd snuck away to the courthouse after work, hadn't given any warnings to anybody, and gotten married in a ceremony that took about ten minutes. Quick, efficient, and to the point, just like Claire wanted. Of course, she'd have to deal with telling her family and coworkers later, but for now it was just her and Owen and Claire was so happy to be alone with him with nothing to worry about but sex. (And really, why would she worry about it? He was Owen.)

"What are you thinking about?" Owen asked, turning to face her when they had to stop at a traffic light. He was wearing a dress shirt and dark slacks, his muscles not hidden in the slightest by the thin fabric. Claire managed to draw her eyes away from his arms to meet his eyes, thankful to see a bit of her own nervous energy reflected in them.

"You," she said, her voice a quiet whisper. She laced her fingers with his and the light turned green; Owen glanced at the light in mild annoyance for tearing his attention away from Claire. "I'm just...it's-" she gestured to the wedding bands. "Big."

Owen laughed softly. "Yeah," he said, squeezing her hand. "You're stuck with me now, Claire."

"Board shorts and all," she joked, letting some of the tension inside her float away.

"You learned to love them," he said, flipping a piece of hair behind her ear. "And anyways, you can't tease me about my swimwear when you walk around in spandex when you think nobody's looking."

Claire smacked him in the shoulder, which probably hurt her more than it did him. "I didn't know you were going to show up at my doorstep, Owen. I would have changed into actual clothes if you'd given me any warning."

Owen shrugged. "I'm not complaining; it was hot."

Claire smacked him again, which did nothing but make Owen snicker. She'd been doing yoga when he'd knocked at her door that morning a few months ago and she'd answered, forgetting she was clad only in a tank top and a pair of spandex shorts. Owen's eyes had gone all wide and he'd ran a few fingers through his hair, stuttering out a greeting with his eyes fixed on her legs. Claire didn't see what was so thrilling about her legs; they were pale and nowhere near as defined as his, but they'd apparently driven Owen wild.

Claire smiled at the memory, knowing she'd see that same intense, alert look on his face in a little while, once they reached the hotel. Or, more specifically, once he discovered what she was wearing under her white dress. It was slightly more revealing than the spandex had been, and Claire couldn't help the small shudder that ran through her body when she pictured him pushing the straps of the nude lingerie off her shoulders and pressing his mouth to her, warm and wet.

They needed to get to that hotel, and they needed to get there fast.

"Are you nervous?" Claire blurted out, unable to stop herself from asking the question that had been haunting her for so long. She had to know what he was thinking, had to talk to him, let him reassure her.

Owen raised an eyebrow at her, taking one eye off the road. He didn't need to answer her question; Claire knew exactly what he was going to say before he said it. "Yeah." His voice was rough, raw, just the way she liked it. He didn't sound like that often, only when he cared particularly strongly for something. "But it's you, Claire." He gave a short laugh, flexing his hand on her leg. "We're good together, you and me. Took us a while to realize it, but here we are."

Claire let out the breath she was holding. He made a good point. Even before the Indominus Rex escape had cleared up the bad blood between them, Claire had been drawn to Owen. She hadn't really been able to explain it, especially after their strange first "date" (and the fact that she'd completely ignored him after), but she hadn't been able to get Owen Grady out of her mind. He was the opposite from her, loosening instead of tightening under stress and not caring a bit about organization and punctuality. Sure, his antics sometimes annoyed Claire out of her mind, but she loved him so much that those qualities faded into the background; they were unimportant.

"Are you?" Owen asked, bringing Claire out of her stupor. "Nervous, I mean?"

"Yes," she said, reaching over to brush a fleck of dirt out of his stubble.

Part of her wondered what those short hairs would feel like grazing against her inner thighs, his face buried in her, teasing her, touching her, loving her.

She shuddered again, and this time, it didn't go unnoticed by Owen. He grinned slyly at her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"You still thinking about me?" he asked in a low tone, causing a collection of shivers to run down Claire's back; he knew exactly what she was thinking about, could pick up on it a mile away.

"Yeah," she murmured, thankful it was dark outside so he couldn't see the blush rising on her face. Claire wondered if he was having more luck controlling his thoughts, though, judging by how hard he was gripping her thigh, he was struggling as much as she was to keep his mind on the right track.

Owen made a soft noise in the back of his throat and Claire's suspicions were proved correct; he was just as aroused as she was.

"How much longer till we get there?" Claire asked, her voice as strained as she felt. It was strange, lust and love and nerves all mixed into one; she was like an emotional melting pot.

"Seven minutes," said Owen tightly, peering through the windshield into the darkness outside. "Seven very long minutes."

Claire almost laughed at the fact that he knew exactly how close they were to the hotel, but she was too busy dealing with the fact that her heart had suddenly sped up, like she'd just finished running a race.

Seven minutes until...

...

The lady at the check-in counter was half asleep when they arrived, Claire bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently and Owen standing rather awkwardly, keeping his eyes determinedly away from the lace that showed through the back of Claire's dress.

"Last name?" the woman asked sleepily, blinking rapidly as she clicked at her computer.

"Grady," said Claire and Owen at the same time, both with the same note of urgency in their voices.

The woman looked at them over her glasses, smiling in a grandmotherly sort of way. "On vacation?"

"Of a sort," said Owen, flashing Claire a grin that set her body on fire, a warm flame that burned straight down from her head to her toes. His eyes flicked to her shoulders, where Claire discreetly pushed the lacy strap a bit further from under her dress than it already was. Owen bit the inside of his jaw, quickly turning back to the hotel clerk, who was holding out a couple of room keys.

"Room 309. Enjoy your stay."

"Oh, we will," said Owen, pinching Claire's shoulder lightly. He slid his fingers under the lingerie, his breath warm on her neck. "Elevator better be empty," he muttered to Claire, nuzzling against her hair as best he could while dragging a suitcase behind him.

She mumbled her agreement incoherently, unable to focus on anything but his skin against hers. The elevator, unfortunately, was 'not' empty. Claire could feel herself growing increasingly desperate, sure that the other passengers could tell that she and Owen were nearly out of their minds with need for each other.

Claire didn't want to say that they jumped out of the elevator when it reached the third floor, but that was the only thing she could call it. They walked stiffly down the hall to room 309, throwing their stuff unceremoniously down on the worn carpet before turning to each other, Claire feeling a bit unsure of what to do now that they were alone.

She slumped to the bed, laying flat on her back, staring at the dull taupe ceiling. "I'm afraid," she said quietly when Owen lay down beside her, un-tucking his shirt so it hung loosely about his hips. "I don't really know why, or what I'm scared of, but-"

"You're afraid," he finished, tracing a slow circle on the back of her hand. "Claire?"

"Yeah?" she answered, propping herself on an elbow to look at him. He pulled her closer, curving her body to his, allowing her to feel his heart thumping madly against his chest.

"Do you trust me?"

She nodded, looking straight into his eyes, green irises filled with everything that made Owen who he was.

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do," Claire said, cupping his jaw with her hand.

He closed his eyes at her touch, tilting his head into her hand, and Claire realized this was some of the vulnerability she so longed to see; Owen was showing her a part of himself she'd never seen before, a part of him that needed to be loved and kissed and held. "Then you've got nothing to be afraid of. Mutual respect, remember?"

Claire smiled. "No control."

"Just love," Owen said, sliding an arm underneath Claire, rolling her on top of him. "And if you don't get out of that dress soon, I might tear it off."

Claire felt a tightening in her stomach that momentarily rendered her unable to move but Owen understood, pushing the dress off to reveal the lace underneath. He made a low groan, deep in his throat, as he leaned over Claire. He pressed his chin to her stomach, meeting her eyes. Claire had never seen him look so alive before, so focused. She trailed her fingers through his hair, enjoying the way his body trembled slightly at her touch. Claire tugged at him, pulling him up until his lips met hers, until his hands were sliding under her back, pushing her upwards, undoing the fastenings of the lace that hid her flesh from him.

Claire worked at the buttons of his shirt, laughing when he gave up on the fastenings and tore away at the lace instead, the thin material falling to shreds under his fingers.

He worshipped her and she worshipped him, exploring each other, watching as the other fell apart. Owen was just as powerful as Claire had imagined him being, burying his head in the crook of her neck, muttering his love for her between grunts and groans as they drove each other to climax. He came undone shortly after she did, gripping her tightly, muffling a shout by kissing Claire even more breathless than she already was.

In the end, she knew there was nothing to be afraid of. She loved Owen, and he loved her. That was the only thing that mattered.

AN: In case any of you were wondering, I gave Claire and Owen room 309 because SPOILER! in Parks and Rec, Andy and April get married in season 3, episode 9 (and obviously all Chris Pratt characters are going to get shout-outs in these one-shots. I gave one to Peter Quill in Sanity with the tape player). I also seriously hope I didn't ruin that for anyone (sorry if I did!)

Review! And if you have any requests, leave them in the reviews or PM me; whichever you prefer. To Disneybrony: I would love to do something like that! I'll give it a shot.