ADAPTATIONS
32 – A Birthday Not to Forget
Subconsciously, Grant brought a hand to his pants pocket, where the fossil tooth necklace box was and nodded to himself. He peered into Pet's bedroom, seeing the hybrid trying her best to compose herself. He faintly smiled at the woman and proceeded into the room. "Hey. You okay?"
Pet nodded, standing up to join her friend. "As much as I can be, for the moment." Her glazed over blue-green eyes studied his smoke smudged features and she tilted her head to the side. "Although, I should be asking you the same thing."
"What?" Grant nervously swallowed and wiped his sweaty palms off on his pants.
"Something's wrong. I can sense it." She took one of the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt and wiped away a faint smudge of dirt from his cheek. "You should know by now, you can't hide anything from me. I smell fear, taste adrenaline and can hear panic in a person's heartbeat. Right now, you reek of absolute horror...and smoke." She gave him a weak, but playful smile. "And your pulse is racing, so I know something is wrong."
The scientist shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I want this to be a good birthday for you. Last year got rained out."
"Flooded out is more like it." Pet wiped her eyes again and brushed aside a stray strand of hair from her face.
Grant felt the necklace box about to burn a hole in his pocket and reached for it. "Here. I got something for you I thought you might like." He pulled out his hand to reveal a red, three-inch-long by two-inch-wide box.
Pet looked at the small box and carefully took it in her clawed hands. She popped it open to see a black braided cord necklace with an inch and a half long fossilized tooth artistically wrapped in jewelry wire hanging from it. Her eyes widened and her jaw fell open. "I-is this what I think it is?"
Blue-green eyes snapped up to meet gentle and warm blue ones. "It's a tooth from the fossil."
"Alan, I…" Pet shook her head. "I can't take this! This belongs to your fossil and I know how particular you are about your bones being all accounted for."
For the first time, Grant could care less. "I think I can make an exception this one time," he teased. "Besides, I thought you would like something to remember your first fossil excavation by."
Pet felt herself tear up again, but for a different reason. "I could never forget the hours I've spent sniffing dirt in the hot or cold, rain or shine."
Grant chuckled. He removed the necklace out of its box and adorned the hybrid's neck with it. It was the perfect length, which he hoped for, so it wouldn't overlap her ball chain dog tag necklace. "I find it fitting your first excavation is a raptor."
Pet giggled. "Yeah." She met his soft gaze and hugged him appreciatively. "Thank you. It really means a lot to me."
Grant returned her gesture and held her close, breathing in the faint traces of lavender lacing her natural scent. He never really allowed himself to get close to the woman, given his discomfort of her fangirlish obsession over him. But that opinion changed after hearing Derek's explaining on why that was. Usually fangirls swooned over him because of various reasons, but not because he had helped them understand the animal side of them. For once, he felt his work was genuinely appreciated by a fan not just because of his 'good looks'. Or, maybe that was one of her reasons but he preferred not to think on that.
Her clawed hand ever so gently scratched at the nape of his neck, Pet doing her best to prolong enjoying the moment as possible. She knew he wasn't one to normally cave to displays of affection, unlike his protégé. No, she was looking too much into it. This wasn't anything but a friendly gesture. That was all. Or was it? She could feel his gradually rising body temperature escape from the collar of his shirt and radiate onto her cheek. Then came his intensifying heartbeat she could feel against her chest. He was nervous. Regardless of this, neither of the two moved from where they stood, closely against the other, for several minutes.
When Grant finally moved, his face brushed against hers, light stubble raking across her much softer skin. Pet slightly lifted her head, just enough for his lips to trace her cheek bone. Both stopped when the corners of their lips touched. Her hands subconsciously tightened against his shoulder and neck as her breath started to subtly labor. Her turning her head just a very small bit allowed him the chance to capture her lips with his in a fragile kiss. The contact barely registered to the hybrid until it both firmed and deepened.
Pet broke away after a minute, shocked and confused by the action. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that."
"It wasn't all your fault," was whispered into her ear. Grant kissed the side of her head and caressed her hair. "As much as I would like to, though, we can't. If I was younger or you older, maybe…things would be different."
"Age is just a number, Alan. That's all it is, a number."
"I'm seventeen years older than you, Veronica. You need someone closer to your age."
The hybrid quietly snorted in frustration and shook her head against his shoulder. "I just want to be happy with someone, age be damned. Do you know how many happy people there are out there with bigger age gaps? I don't want something out of our control to define what we should or should not do." She looked up to meet his gaze once more. "But if it bothers you that much then I'll take what I can. I'd rather have you as a friend than as nothing at all."
Grant traced over every feature of her face in what light he could see her in, shining through the cracked blinds. He caressed her cheek and along her jaw with a thumb and smiled. "Let's just give it some time."
Pet nodded in the palm of his callous hand and kissed it, breaking away. "Come on. Let's get out there before they start the party without us." Pet gave him another smile and left the trailer to go to the bond fire.
Meanwhile, Grant had other plans. He chose to see what drinks Derek and Billy brought back from town. His nerves needed a drink or few to calm down. He went to the office trailer to see a keg of beer beside a fold out table. On top of it were buckets of ice normally used for mixing plaster and chilling a various assortment of liquors.
Derek poured the senior scientist a drink of whiskey and deviously smiled. "Looks like you could use a drink. Maybe build up enough courage to ask someone on a date. Hmm? Hmm?" Grant accepted the shot, but not for the reason Derek was suggesting. "If you two decide to sneak off at one point in the night, I won't say anything."
Grant slammed the shot glass down on the fold out table and glared at the bounty hunter disapprovingly. Whether it was being asked or not, Derek poured another shot and nudged it towards the older man, smirking.
By nine-o-clock, Pet and Derek knew they were about to be in for the worst night of their lives and probably an extinction level hangover the next day. Across the table from them was Roland smiling wickedly at them. Arranged before them were six small glasses each of their preferred shot. Pet had vodka, Derek had tequila and Roland had whiskey.
Terrence stood at the end of the table closest to the group. "Arm behind your back." The people did, their other hand flat on the table in front of their shots. "Ready…set…go!"
As quickly as they could, the three people grabbed a shot and took it down in one gulp before grabbing the next. Derek and Roland were tied with Pet a split second behind them. Her face was contorted in disgust after having drank that many vodka shots in a row so quickly after another. She was just happy she hadn't drunk anything before then. As soon as the liquor hit her, though, she knew she would either be sick or stumbling around the dig site.
The shot glasses were filled back up with the two challengers' preferred drinks and the countdown said again. Roland won by a blink of an eye's time and Derek made to pay up fifty-dollars. Pet made sure to stay away from both men as she knew come later, Derek was going to be handsy and Roland…she wasn't sure. She couldn't remember ever really seeing him shit faced drunk.
The closest she ever saw him to being drunk was in Kenya, once. Muldoon was down with the flu and her godfather was charged in babysitting her. After two hours of sipping scotch and taking shots of whiskey, he was in the backyard of his Kenyan ranch and shooting glass bottles. Hopefully, tonight wouldn't lead to that even though there was a plethora of empty glass bottles in a nearby trash can.
Pet brought a clawed hand to her new tooth necklace and smiled. The pit of her stomach burned in a rush of excitement after having received it, that or because the vodka was starting to hit her system. Either way, the gift was special to her and it always would be.
An hour later, Derek was stumbling back to Quarantine for the safety of his bed. It took Terrence making sure the younger man made it there and not somewhere else as he was pretty well toasted. Muldoon and Roland could be heard across the dig site laughing at stupid hunting stories and comparing who was the better hunter. As if it really mattered. Pet smirked. It was definitely Muldoon, but maybe that was because she was bias of her best friend and guardian over her godfather.
Pet wanted to retreat to her bedroom, too, but knew doing so would bring her right in the middle of the two men's conversation. She didn't want to get caught up in that again as it always made her uncomfortable having to verbally choose the better hunter. Then came the other having to boast about his accomplishments and his damn trophy room.
Honestly, any chance he got to bring it up in a conversation he did! While it was very impressive and something rivaling a museum's safari collection, it didn't need to get brought up when comparing sizes of accomplishments. If Roland could have managed to include the T-Rex he tranquilized on Isla Sorna into his collection he would have. Even if not the entire body, the head alone would have sufficed for him.
Pet shuffled over to Grant's trailer and plopped down in one of the fold out lawn chairs. She lounged back and watched the rest of the monthly morale party start to slow down. The bond fire wasn't as towering as it once was, as it was now reduced to flames dancing on their logs. Pet saw a familiar plaid shirt and khaki pants come towards her through her peripheral vision and looked over to see Grant's sleepy blue eyes.
He took a moment to stand beside her, looking out at the dig site. "Did you enjoy the party?" he inquired.
Pet nodded. "For the most part. Would've been better if there was a live animal to main and disembowel, but…" she snickered at the scientist, "it was pretty fun."
"I'm glad to hear that. I know last year you were pretty bummed about the rain out so hopefully this year made up for it." He saw the hybrid reach for the tooth necklace, a smile playing on her lips.
The memory of how those lips felt against his played back in his head. No, he couldn't. He needed to go to bed. He had had too much alcohol to think straight. While he hadn't drank near as much as some, namely Derek, he still had more than he should have.
Pet sensed the drop of a dime change in the man's demeanor, but chose to ignore it. Grant continued. "I'm heading to bed. I still have to get up early tomorrow."
Pet nodded and watched the man stride to his trailer's front door. Before he opened it, he gave the hybrid a sly corner eyed stare and disappeared inside. It took her a moment to realize he left the door cracked. He only did this when he knew someone was coming in behind him.
Pet kept telling herself no, that she would remain where she sat. But a part of her had other plans and was trudging up the concrete steps.
Grant watched an Alka-Seltzer dance at the bottom of his morning water glass with glossed over and half lidded eyes. His stomach hadn't been this messed up nor his head feeling as though about to split open like this in a very long time. His blood shot blue eyes lazily rolled in their sockets to study the hybrid next to him, looking much the same as him.
Pet swished her water glass around, lightly burping and swallowing in grimace. "How much did I drink last night?"
Derek, too, appeared to nurse a hangover. He had his head on the table and was refusing to move for any reason. Seated on the couch and shoveling a mouthful of syrup dripping pancakes into his mouth was Terrence. "I lost count after about midway through the night. The last thing I saw you drink were those six vodka shots. I know you had a few more drinks with Billy later on, though."
Pet grumbled and took a sip of her water. She didn't like the texture of the fizzes and wrinkled her nose at it when swallowing. "I haven't been this hung over since Isla Sorna."
Terrence cocked an amused smile at the hybrid. "What, did you make some type of alcohol with fermented fruit and berried during the years you were out there?"
"No," Pet frowned. "Okay well yes, but that's not what I'm talking about."
Muldoon finished pouring him a cup of coffee and answered. "Why don't you tell them about that little event, Pet."
The hybrid sunk lower in her seat. "I got myself into trouble, once."
Terrence snickered. "Something tells me this was before you were twenty-one."
"I was young and stupid and thought I was a big girl and snuck into Rob's whiskey stash." Terrence busted into laughing. Even Derek snickered as half passed out as he was. "I was so shit faced."
Muldoon huffed his own laugh. "When I finally found her, she was staggering down the road and heading towards Tyrannosaur territory, singing some whatever it was song at the top of her voice."
Pet cracked a smile. "I remember that. What song was that, again?"
"I don't remember." The man took a drink of his juice and smiled at the memory. "I made sure you never forgot that night, though."
"Yeah, the next day sucked bad! You ran my ass all over the place until I was sick. Oh man did that day suck." She took another drink of her Seltzer water. "The look on John's face was priceless."
Grant cocked a smile. "How did that go over?"
"He tried to ground me."
Muldoon continued her story. "That was right before she threw up on his white shoes."
Pet giggled, Terrence licking the ring of syrup off his lips. "I bet Hammond flipped his shit over that."
The hybrid ceased her giggles long enough to answer. "He lost more than that."
Both hybrid and guardian laughed at the memory, the others smiling in mental imaging. Derek questioned. "How old were you when that happened?"
"Sixteen..."
"What!?" Derek's head lazily lifted off the table to stare at his uncle in disbelief. "You could've got in some serious shit for contributing to a minor!"
The man calmly sat down next to his nephew. "As I told Hammond, if she thinks she's big girl enough to do what she did, then she can take the consequences like a big girl." His blue eyes squared down on the woman. "I guarantee you this much, though...after that, she listened when I told her not to do something."
Derek studied the hybrid. "I don't think she learned her lesson after that night, though, otherwise she wouldn't be hung over now."
"I regret nothing. It was a good night last night," the woman smiled out. She lightly elbowed Grant in the side, making Derek's blood shot brown eyes widen.
Roland came into the trailer, buttoning the last button on his white shirt, and went to the stack of pancakes on a big plate by the stove. He stopped, though, to take a look at the hybrid and subtly smiled. He could easily tell she felt like crap. "Morning, Veronica."
She growled, "I hate you." The man laughed at the comment and began making him a plate. "Was there something more than vodka in those shots?"
"Are you so used to that bottled piss water you normally drink that you can't handle real alcohol?" Pet rolled her eyes and hissed a snort at the amused big game hunter.
