August 21: Some Pretty Unusual Criteria [Jurassic World]
Title: Some Pretty Unusual Criteria
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Rating: T/PG-13
Crossover: Jurassic World
Spoilers: Very post-series for B:tVS; set just before the first JW movie; no comics canon
Notes: Follow up to Divide By Dinosaur Error, by popular request. Maybe not the last?
Summary: Owen trained predators for a living; his instincts were rarely wrong, and they told him he should no more turn his back on the woman than he would Blue. 1700 words.
Owen hustled the two visitors into the Raptor Research Arena's on-site office, then followed them in and shut the door firmly behind them. They were supposed to be doing another full run-through of the pig hunt in an hour or so, and the way Blue had reacted to the pair who'd come walking up the access road, he wasn't sure that was a good idea any more. Distracted velociraptors meant the girls potentially not paying attention to all of Owen's commands, and he'd been stalling Hoskins about their progress long enough already; they really needed to show a success, or the security head might kick their failures up to Wu and get the project scrapped or put into other hands.
He'd put too much effort into protecting them, ever since he'd realized exactly how intelligent they actually were, to risk that happening now. And if Hoskins caught Blue ignoring him on surveillance footage in favor of a pair of strangers that Owen seriously doubted were authorized to be there-- if he caught Blue calling out to the woman with the tones she used for Owen and her sisters, rather than the ones she typically used for humans-- there might be more than a few awkward questions.
He took a seat behind his desk, then crossed his arms over his chest and stared at both of the unwelcome guests in turn. "You're not tourists; even the VIP wristbands don't let people into the research corridor," he accused them. "You're not InGen corporate; you don't look at everything you see like it has a price tag. You're not Operations staff or visiting scientists; I know Claire Dearing, and she's anal enough about crossing i's and dotting t's that I would definitely have heard you were coming before you got here. So what are you doing here? Corporate espionage? Some kind of 'free the dinosaurs' project?"
The pair exchanged a weighted look. The older one pinged like an Alan Grant-style scholar; aging past his prime, but still fit, with steel-gray hair, shrewd eyes, and callused hands. The younger one was probably more Owen's generation, though he'd never dare assume a lady's age; dirty-blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, the kind of pricey but casual outfit that wouldn't be out of place in Claire's wardrobe, strappy little sandals showing off brightly-painted toes, and a gaze even sharper than her companion's. Despite the visual mismatch, there was years' worth of familiarity in their body language-- something more than familial but less than romantic, he thought. Like pack.
The woman finally sighed and met his gaze again, eyes as green as the grass in Gyrosphere Valley. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Well, I certainly won't believe you if you don't tell me," he replied acerbically. "And if you try to go near Blue again without my approval-- if you go anywhere other than right back up the access road-- you'll be explaining it to security instead."
The way she perked up at Blue's name told him that whatever was up with his best girl, it was definitely related to why they were there-- but the way her partner narrowed his eyes at the reference to the security forces told him that they weren't stupid, either.
"If you harbor such concern about our presence, then I wonder that you haven't informed them already," the man said, pursing his mouth slightly like a disapproving schoolteacher.
"Well, for one thing, I'd like to know who I'm calling them on," Owen replied dryly. Two could play at that game. They could just not tell him, of course; but then he would definitely be calling security, and they knew it. Or they could keep on talking, and then he would know a little more than the nothing he had so far.
"Giles," the woman said firmly, laying a hand on her companion's arm.
She didn't need to do anything more than that to make her point clear; the note of command in her voice reminded him all over again of Claire, as if she was used to commanding an army in all but name, through constant challenges and ever-changing stakes. "It's no big. We need to talk to someone, and somehow I don't think it's gonna be her directly. Unless that whole incident with the horns--" she gestured around her face at that, as if she were sketching out a pair of Princess Leia buns, "--somehow taught you to speak Velociraptor?"
'Giles' met her gaze for a moment, then nodded resignedly. "Very well."
Then he turned back to Owen and held out a hand. "Dr. Rupert Giles. Formerly of the British Museum; currently headmaster of the Janna Kalderash International School for Girls. We're officially on the island to explore the possibility of a field trip for our students."
Owen raised his eyebrows, and shook; unsurprisingly, the man had a firm grip. "Owen Grady. Former US Navy; current head velociraptor trainer at the park. And you, ma'am?"
It was his other guest's turn to raise her eyebrows; clearly, she'd been expecting him to spend longer questioning her friend. To be fair, the guy did have surprisingly heavyweight credentials, and that 'official' reason was obviously nonsense. But Dr. Giles wasn't the one raising all the fine hairs on the backs of Owen's arms; it was the woman who'd given him an order like she was the one in authority, here. Owen trained predators for a living; his instincts were rarely wrong, and they told him he should no more turn his back on her than he would Blue.
"Buffy Summers," she said, giving him a wry, assessing smile. Owen was even less surprised to find her grip as firm as Dr. Giles'. "Founder of the school. Which, incidentally, happens to have some pretty unusual criteria for attendance."
The hint wasn't subtle; she glanced back over her shoulder toward the door as she said it-- and somehow, he didn't doubt she meant it, too.
Damn it. He'd thought if anyone had a chance of blowing the whistle on him, it would be someone inside the park; how had complete strangers figured it out? "Dinosaurs in a school. Right. That's a funny one; or would be, if they weren't, you know, animals. Multi-million dollar zoo research animals, in fact, who would probably eat the other students when they got bored. No; tell me why you're really here."
Ms. Summers frowned at him as if she were the one disappointed. "They're not just animals, though. At least, Blue isn't; if she's the one we saw at the gates. You have to know that, if you're the one who's in charge of training them."
Of course he knew that; but he was just one cog in a very large wheel. Owen wasn't buddy-buddy with Masrani, like say the geneticist whose work underpinned the entire money-making engine of wonder that was Jurassic World; nor did he occupy a sufficiently high rung on the corporate ladder, like Vic Hoskins. He wouldn't be able to do anything about it if either man realized what they had on their hands and inevitably tried to either exploit the girls-- or erase them and start over. They were assets to most of InGen and Jurassic World's higher-ups; even Claire seemed to distance herself from them-- and all the other messy parts of existence while she was at it-- as much as she could.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said firmly, standing again to reach for the intercom interface. "And I think this interview has gone on long enough."
"Wait," Ms. Summers objected, climbing to her feet after him. "We're not threatening her, Mr. Grady. No one told us anything; we're not here because we want anything. But she's-- special. It's a long story how we know, but-- she is. And you know she is. We just want to, well, see her. Communicate with her, somehow. If she has human DNA like we think she does...."
"Human DNA? But that's impossible." The rest of what she'd said definitely needed more investigation, too, but that was just--
--well, a hell of a lot more plausible than he'd like to believe. Of all his girls, Blue was the only one who'd had empathy almost right out of the shell. Who he'd seen cry actual tears, which he'd wondered about; dinosaurs had largely evolved into birds, which didn't have tear ducts, and as far as he knew reptiles only used theirs to cleanse their eyes, not to express pain or emotion. But Blue did.
"...They told me she was created with DNA from a black-throated monitor."
"Are these the same they whom you apparently don't wish to know how intelligent she is?" Mr. Giles interjected. "Mr. Grady; we realize that this isn't our turf, and there's quite a bit involved here that we aren't aware of. But there is a lot of relevant information that you don't have, either. And the organization we're a part of is actually quite a bit bigger than a school. If you need assistance to ensure the safety of your charge...."
"Look. Is there somewhere more private we can talk?" Ms. Summers added.
Owen opened his mouth, then shut it again, mind racing. Hoskins would be there in less than an hour. The team outside was expecting a demonstration. Blue and her sisters were expecting a show and a reward. Of course he wanted to know what else they knew, what exactly they wanted to do about it, and what it was going to cost him; but he couldn't leave yet.
"In an hour, maybe. Not now. You got a short version you can tell me?"
Dr. Giles and Ms. Summers exchanged another heavy glance... then Ms. Summers picked up the little cast metal dinosaur on the corner of his desk, and casually pretzeled it with her hand.
He was still gaping at the display when Dr. Giles added his two cents. "Mr. Grady, this world is older than even you know."
Well, with an opening like that...
Owen sank back into his chair, thinking again about everything that made Blue different. And made a choice.
"Okay," he said. "I'm listening."
-x-
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Rating: T/PG-13
Crossover: Jurassic World
Spoilers: Very post-series for B:tVS; set just before the first JW movie; no comics canon
Notes: Follow up to Divide By Dinosaur Error, by popular request. Maybe not the last?
Summary: Owen trained predators for a living; his instincts were rarely wrong, and they told him he should no more turn his back on the woman than he would Blue. 1700 words.
Owen hustled the two visitors into the Raptor Research Arena's on-site office, then followed them in and shut the door firmly behind them. They were supposed to be doing another full run-through of the pig hunt in an hour or so, and the way Blue had reacted to the pair who'd come walking up the access road, he wasn't sure that was a good idea any more. Distracted velociraptors meant the girls potentially not paying attention to all of Owen's commands, and he'd been stalling Hoskins about their progress long enough already; they really needed to show a success, or the security head might kick their failures up to Wu and get the project scrapped or put into other hands.
He'd put too much effort into protecting them, ever since he'd realized exactly how intelligent they actually were, to risk that happening now. And if Hoskins caught Blue ignoring him on surveillance footage in favor of a pair of strangers that Owen seriously doubted were authorized to be there-- if he caught Blue calling out to the woman with the tones she used for Owen and her sisters, rather than the ones she typically used for humans-- there might be more than a few awkward questions.
He took a seat behind his desk, then crossed his arms over his chest and stared at both of the unwelcome guests in turn. "You're not tourists; even the VIP wristbands don't let people into the research corridor," he accused them. "You're not InGen corporate; you don't look at everything you see like it has a price tag. You're not Operations staff or visiting scientists; I know Claire Dearing, and she's anal enough about crossing i's and dotting t's that I would definitely have heard you were coming before you got here. So what are you doing here? Corporate espionage? Some kind of 'free the dinosaurs' project?"
The pair exchanged a weighted look. The older one pinged like an Alan Grant-style scholar; aging past his prime, but still fit, with steel-gray hair, shrewd eyes, and callused hands. The younger one was probably more Owen's generation, though he'd never dare assume a lady's age; dirty-blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, the kind of pricey but casual outfit that wouldn't be out of place in Claire's wardrobe, strappy little sandals showing off brightly-painted toes, and a gaze even sharper than her companion's. Despite the visual mismatch, there was years' worth of familiarity in their body language-- something more than familial but less than romantic, he thought. Like pack.
The woman finally sighed and met his gaze again, eyes as green as the grass in Gyrosphere Valley. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"Well, I certainly won't believe you if you don't tell me," he replied acerbically. "And if you try to go near Blue again without my approval-- if you go anywhere other than right back up the access road-- you'll be explaining it to security instead."
The way she perked up at Blue's name told him that whatever was up with his best girl, it was definitely related to why they were there-- but the way her partner narrowed his eyes at the reference to the security forces told him that they weren't stupid, either.
"If you harbor such concern about our presence, then I wonder that you haven't informed them already," the man said, pursing his mouth slightly like a disapproving schoolteacher.
"Well, for one thing, I'd like to know who I'm calling them on," Owen replied dryly. Two could play at that game. They could just not tell him, of course; but then he would definitely be calling security, and they knew it. Or they could keep on talking, and then he would know a little more than the nothing he had so far.
"Giles," the woman said firmly, laying a hand on her companion's arm.
She didn't need to do anything more than that to make her point clear; the note of command in her voice reminded him all over again of Claire, as if she was used to commanding an army in all but name, through constant challenges and ever-changing stakes. "It's no big. We need to talk to someone, and somehow I don't think it's gonna be her directly. Unless that whole incident with the horns--" she gestured around her face at that, as if she were sketching out a pair of Princess Leia buns, "--somehow taught you to speak Velociraptor?"
'Giles' met her gaze for a moment, then nodded resignedly. "Very well."
Then he turned back to Owen and held out a hand. "Dr. Rupert Giles. Formerly of the British Museum; currently headmaster of the Janna Kalderash International School for Girls. We're officially on the island to explore the possibility of a field trip for our students."
Owen raised his eyebrows, and shook; unsurprisingly, the man had a firm grip. "Owen Grady. Former US Navy; current head velociraptor trainer at the park. And you, ma'am?"
It was his other guest's turn to raise her eyebrows; clearly, she'd been expecting him to spend longer questioning her friend. To be fair, the guy did have surprisingly heavyweight credentials, and that 'official' reason was obviously nonsense. But Dr. Giles wasn't the one raising all the fine hairs on the backs of Owen's arms; it was the woman who'd given him an order like she was the one in authority, here. Owen trained predators for a living; his instincts were rarely wrong, and they told him he should no more turn his back on her than he would Blue.
"Buffy Summers," she said, giving him a wry, assessing smile. Owen was even less surprised to find her grip as firm as Dr. Giles'. "Founder of the school. Which, incidentally, happens to have some pretty unusual criteria for attendance."
The hint wasn't subtle; she glanced back over her shoulder toward the door as she said it-- and somehow, he didn't doubt she meant it, too.
Damn it. He'd thought if anyone had a chance of blowing the whistle on him, it would be someone inside the park; how had complete strangers figured it out? "Dinosaurs in a school. Right. That's a funny one; or would be, if they weren't, you know, animals. Multi-million dollar zoo research animals, in fact, who would probably eat the other students when they got bored. No; tell me why you're really here."
Ms. Summers frowned at him as if she were the one disappointed. "They're not just animals, though. At least, Blue isn't; if she's the one we saw at the gates. You have to know that, if you're the one who's in charge of training them."
Of course he knew that; but he was just one cog in a very large wheel. Owen wasn't buddy-buddy with Masrani, like say the geneticist whose work underpinned the entire money-making engine of wonder that was Jurassic World; nor did he occupy a sufficiently high rung on the corporate ladder, like Vic Hoskins. He wouldn't be able to do anything about it if either man realized what they had on their hands and inevitably tried to either exploit the girls-- or erase them and start over. They were assets to most of InGen and Jurassic World's higher-ups; even Claire seemed to distance herself from them-- and all the other messy parts of existence while she was at it-- as much as she could.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said firmly, standing again to reach for the intercom interface. "And I think this interview has gone on long enough."
"Wait," Ms. Summers objected, climbing to her feet after him. "We're not threatening her, Mr. Grady. No one told us anything; we're not here because we want anything. But she's-- special. It's a long story how we know, but-- she is. And you know she is. We just want to, well, see her. Communicate with her, somehow. If she has human DNA like we think she does...."
"Human DNA? But that's impossible." The rest of what she'd said definitely needed more investigation, too, but that was just--
--well, a hell of a lot more plausible than he'd like to believe. Of all his girls, Blue was the only one who'd had empathy almost right out of the shell. Who he'd seen cry actual tears, which he'd wondered about; dinosaurs had largely evolved into birds, which didn't have tear ducts, and as far as he knew reptiles only used theirs to cleanse their eyes, not to express pain or emotion. But Blue did.
"...They told me she was created with DNA from a black-throated monitor."
"Are these the same they whom you apparently don't wish to know how intelligent she is?" Mr. Giles interjected. "Mr. Grady; we realize that this isn't our turf, and there's quite a bit involved here that we aren't aware of. But there is a lot of relevant information that you don't have, either. And the organization we're a part of is actually quite a bit bigger than a school. If you need assistance to ensure the safety of your charge...."
"Look. Is there somewhere more private we can talk?" Ms. Summers added.
Owen opened his mouth, then shut it again, mind racing. Hoskins would be there in less than an hour. The team outside was expecting a demonstration. Blue and her sisters were expecting a show and a reward. Of course he wanted to know what else they knew, what exactly they wanted to do about it, and what it was going to cost him; but he couldn't leave yet.
"In an hour, maybe. Not now. You got a short version you can tell me?"
Dr. Giles and Ms. Summers exchanged another heavy glance... then Ms. Summers picked up the little cast metal dinosaur on the corner of his desk, and casually pretzeled it with her hand.
He was still gaping at the display when Dr. Giles added his two cents. "Mr. Grady, this world is older than even you know."
Well, with an opening like that...
Owen sank back into his chair, thinking again about everything that made Blue different. And made a choice.
"Okay," he said. "I'm listening."
-x-