A/N: So I just saw Jurassic World with my hubby today and I could not get enough of Claire and Owen. They are just such a wonderful couple, so I decided to give them some fluff to make up for how messed up their day at the park had been. Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Jurassic World, I'm merely borrowing its characters for some fun. Warning: may give you cavities. One-shot, Claire/Owen, rated for mild swearing and sexual innuendo. Enjoy! ~BK93

A/N 2: Much to my horror, the document editor deleted the breaks I inserted to make the story seem less choppy, so I had to update the chapter x.x Sorry if you got to it before I noticed!

Second First Date

You never get a second chance at a first impression. At least, that was what Owen Grady had always been told. Not that he had ever needed a second chance. Owen was a master in the art of seduction; there wasn't a single woman he couldn't ultimately charm with his devilish good looks and no-nonsense attitude. He'd romanced half the female employees of Jurassic World. There wasn't a single woman out of his reach.

Until, that is, he met Claire Dearing.

Claire had been a tough nut to crack: straight-laced, uptight, and almost as no-nonsense as he was. Almost. She was just as bullheaded as he, and just as determined. In many respects, they were very alike. However, he and Claire differed on a few key issues, and that had become very apparent on their disastrous first attempt at a date, though he'd rather not remember the "board shorts and itineraries" fiasco.

Honestly, her saving his life gave him cause to forgive all grievances. There was no shortage of choices she could have made while that tyrannodactyl was trying to chew off the better part of his face. She could have screamed, helpless, and watched him die; waiting for it to turn on her and her nephews. She could have taken the boys and run, protecting her own kin over a park employee, and he would have respected her decision. But she didn't. She picked up his gun and shot the beast, killing it and saving his life. Owen had been dumbfounded. He had been awestruck. He was still drawing breath, and it was thanks to Miss Starched Suit. He rolled over and stood, and never before had a woman been so beautiful in his eyes. She was covered in dirt, sweat, and God knows what, her fiery auburn hair frizzed into curls by humidity and hard running, her pristine white skirt torn up to her thigh and her crisp white blouse open and dirty. She was breathing hard and clutching his gun like a nun might clutch a rosary.

He kissed her there, hard, right in front of her nephews. It wasn't any old kiss, not like the mind-warping tongue games he'd played with previous conquests. He kissed her like she was oxygen and he was drowning.

He had no idea where the T-rex had come from; only that Claire had thrown the flare that led it to attack InGen's frankenosaur, which must have meant somehow she got it out of its paddock and led it to the plaza. He could get the specifics later. What mattered was Claire had run in at least six inch heels to lead the T-rex to the fight, making it chase her like prey. She had saved their lives and very easily could have died doing so. He'd wanted to scream at her, to shake her and ask her what in the name of holy hell she thought she was doing, but with the combined might of the 'rex and Blue, with a little help of a Mosasaurus, the giant hybrid dinosaur was dead. That left them in Costa Rica with the rest of the survivors of Jurassic World's final day. Her nephews had been reunited with their parents, and he and Claire had stepped away for a moment of privacy.

The air was crisp and cool outside the hangar being used to shelter the surviving park guests. The sun was setting, and below him, Owen could hear the waves of the crystal blue ocean crashing against the bluff. He wrapped an arm securely around Claire, surprised when she sighed softly and snuggled in to his chest.

"So, we stick together, for survival," she said softly. She sounded tired, and he couldn't blame her.

"That's what I think we should do, anyway. Right?" Owen looked down at her, his eyes catching hers. Claire looked out at the ocean and let out a long sigh. A silence settled over them.

"What if we gave that first date another try?" She asked at last, a hand coming to rest on his chest. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"What, you mean a second date?" He asked, playfully. Claire smiled and shook her head, ducking out from under his arm and turning to face him.

"No, I mean a second first date," she insisted. Owen scoffed lightly.

"Where I'm from, we call that a second date." Claire shook her head again. "No?" Owen was puzzled.

"No. Our first date hardly counted as a date. We bickered the whole time. Let's try again."

"You know you don't get a second chance at a first impression, right, Claire?" Claire scoffed.

"So then we make new impressions." He smiled and kissed her again, softer than before, unhurried, and uninterrupted by flying screaming dinosaurs and running screaming tourists.

-Break to feed the velociraptors-

It had taken almost a month for Owen to get that second chance at a first date Claire had promised him. Claire, as the park's operations manager, had been roped in to most of the lawsuits and hearings regarding the dinosaur attacks and the deaths of park-goers and staff members. She wasn't named as a defendant in any of the cases, or in the big class action suit that had been filed, but she was often called to testify that the park's operators, including its owner, Mr. Masrani, had no idea that the dinosaur the lab monkeys had cooked up would be so incredibly intelligent and dangerous. All of the depositions and hearings and testimonies had taken their toll on Claire, and somewhere after her third court appearance that week, she called Owen for their date. She told him she'd made them reservations at a restaurant her sister had once told her would be good; nothing too fancy, but not a burger joint. This was Claire Dearing, after all.

Ordinarily, Owen would have swaggered in to the restaurant in his trademark leather vest, probably with some motorcycle engine grease still smeared on his shirt because it "gave him character." But this was Claire. Owen showered at least an hour before their date, scrubbing grease off every last inch of himself. He'd combed his hair and forgone the vest in favor of a button-down shirt under a dark blue blazer he rarely wore, paired with jeans and his boots. That had been fun; finding a new place and new stuff, because everything he owned was on an island covered with free-roaming dinosaurs. Even having something nice to wear for tonight took some doing, but Claire was more than worth it. He looked himself over in the mirror in the restaurant's foyer for the third time, pausing to pick just a speck of lint off his shoulder. He looked briefly at his watch before sticking his hands in his pockets and tapping his foot. Claire was late. So unlike her. Even when she and Owen were just shooting text messages back and forth, she was always prompt. Owen glanced at his watch for what felt like the hundredth time before the door opened and Claire stepped in.

She looked magnificent. In place of one of her pristine suits was a simple sundress with a complimentary colored cardigan, and instead of heels, she wore ballet flats. Her usually flat-ironed hair waved around her face, and even her makeup looked less severe. And not an itinerary in sight, he mused, smiling as he walked over to her. He felt as surge of pride as her eyes traced him from head to toe, puffing out his chest slightly.

"Wow, Claire…you look fantastic." She beamed and her eyes sparkled, and Owen had to actively stop his knees from buckling. She was drop-dead gorgeous when she smiled.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she said, her tone light and playful and...flirtatious? Oh, that's definitely a good sign. Already off to a better start than last time. "Better than board shorts." Owen cringed, but had to laugh.

"Yeah, I figured you deserved a little more effort out of me, seeing as I'm trying to make a new impression on you. Is it working?" Claire giggled, she actually giggled, and Owen couldn't help but grin. Giggling is a VERY good sign. Very good.

"Definitely." Owen held out his arm for her and Claire reddened slightly, not expecting that kind of gentlemanly gesture from him. When they got to their table, he pulled out her chair for her, earning him another of her brilliant smiles. They sat across from each other, and Claire quietly flipped through the menu before the waiter arrived. To his surprise, she ordered a margarita, and to her surprise, he ordered water, instead of a tequila sunrise like last time.

"I thought your diet wouldn't let you have tequila," he prodded as she quietly sipped her drink. She rolled her eyes, grinning lightheartedly.

"I do get cheat days, y'know…hey!" Owen snagged her margarita playfully and took a sip, grinning all the while. Claire stole it back at first chance and placed it where she thought it would be out of his reach.

"What?" Owen intoned, "I'm just trying to keep you from cheating on your diet!" Claire playfully slapped him on the arm. "OW!" Owen rubbed his arm, grinning like a madman. This was actually going splendidly well. "What was that for? I'm just trying to watch your figure for you! Your…very lovely, very perfect figure." He winked at Claire playfully with a devilish smirk, raking his eyes up and down as much of her as he could see over the table. Claire blushed absolutely scarlet and smacked his arm again, harder. "OW!" It was all worth it. Claire didn't just blush at her cheeks, but all the way up to her hairline and all the way down to the neckline of her dress. One could faintly make out a scattering of freckles across her collarbone against the flushed pink of her skin. It was very becoming, and Owen quietly pondered asking Claire how far down that blush of hers went. His heart skipped a beat, and he decided against it…for now.

-Break to feed the velociraptors-

Much to his surprise, Claire opted for something more substantial than the puny salad she had ordered last time, even if it was still grilled salmon and broccoli. He still ordered the biggest honkin' steak on the menu in a pure show of masculinity, even though he knew he'd probably end up taking at least half of it home. Whatever, he'd insisted on buying, anyway, to make up for the fact that he had even suggested they go Dutch last time. Claire took another sip of her margarita, looking at him over the rim of her glass.

"So…" she began, almost hesitantly. "What do you like to do, Owen?" Owen froze and looked down at his hands, almost…glum.
"Well…the 'raptors were kind of my whole life for several years…" He trailed off, finding some very interesting dirt under his thumbnail. Claire's face sank.

"O-oh. I'm sorry." She couldn't help but think about Charlie, Delta, Echo, and Blue, Owen's beloved pack of velociraptors. She set her glass down.

"'S alright. I also build motorcycles in my spare time," Owen offered, trying to make her feel better. "I watch sports like any normal guy…love me some beer, but that's neither here nor there." Claire snorted and Owen knew he was getting their date back on the right track. "What about you, little miss organized? Any hobbies other than pressing your suits?" He teased, and Claire's grin told him she took it the joke it was.

"Actually, yes. I love gardening." Owen couldn't imagine Claire getting herself dirty in a situation that didn't call for it, let alone voluntarily digging around in the dirt. "My mother used to grow roses for shows. I took after her in that respect. And I love organizing things, hence why I took the job as the park operations manager. I worked as a children's party planner to put myself through college." Owen did laugh at that, as much as he tried to hold it in. "What's so funny?" Claire demanded, indignant.

"Nothing, nothing, Claire, I promise! I just can't imagine you planning children's parties. Maybe like weddings and formal events, but you, conversing with clowns and blowing up balloon animals?" Claire barely stifled her laugh. Owen was so, so glad she was so much more easygoing.

"Conversing with clowns, yes. Blowing up animal balloons, no. I usually left that to the clowns. The only thing I seemed to blow up were snakes." It was Claire's turn to wink, and Owen felt his face grow hot. Is she…is she hinting at something? She has to be. The arrival of their dinner prevented him from making an innuendo in the form of a snappy comeback. I'll give you a snake to blow baby, right fucking here. Owen pushed that comment back into the back of his brain, but could do little more than watch Claire delicately cut up her broccoli and pop a piece into her mouth. He just sat, mind boggled, and watched the saucy little minx across the table thoughtfully chew her food. She swallowed and noticed he hadn't yet touched his food. The look on his face was more than enough to tell her what she had been trying to say was received, and that she had temporarily short-circuited Owen Grady's brain. Claire mentally high-fived herself for being daring. "Well? Are you just gonna sit here and watch me eat? Your steak's getting cold." Emboldened by how well her innuendo was received, Claire reached over and stabbed her fork into one of Owen's oven-roasted rosemary potatoes. She popped it into her mouth with a devious little grin. "It's really good, hate for you to miss out."

Regaining his composure, Owen picked up his silverware and dug in. They ate in comfortable silence, peppered with occasional small talk that came fairly easily after their first stumble. Owen decided to try her knowledge on 1970's rock trivia, and was surprised when Claire came back with almost every band or song name he threw out there. Even some of the obscure ones he barely knew, she seemed to know. At one point during their dinner, Owen swore he felt Claire's foot brush against his leg, a little longer than an incidental kick. When he felt it again, he knew it to be a deliberate caress, and he slid one booted foot to sit between hers, grateful for the long tablecloth that would keep the rest of the restaurant from seeing that two full-grown adults were playing freakin' footsie like teenagers. Claire noticed almost immediately, especially when he slid his chair closer to the table in order to slide his leg further between hers in a clear show of interest. He swore he saw Claire blush faintly. Whatever action she might have taken was again interrupted by the waiter, just as his comeback earlier had been, and Owen began to resent the little cock-blocker.

-Break to feed the velociraptors-

Surprisingly, Claire took both men up on their insistence on dessert, and she and Owen split a piece of sinfully decadent chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream. When Owen was midway through a bite, Claire grinned impishly and stuck her finger in the whipped cream on the side of the plate and promptly smeared it on the tip of his nose, sticking her finger in her mouth to lick the rest off. Owen blinked, befuddled and very turned on. This playful side of Claire was something he never would have imagined as existing.

"No point in wasting perfectly good whipped cream," Claire joked as Owen wiped off what she had dabbed on his nose. He grinned devilishly at her, and scooted his chair around the table to where he could easily reach her. He took a large fingerful of whipped cream and smeared it on her lips.

"Agreed," he practically purred, his voice husky. He kissed Claire, artfully biting and suckling, removing all traces of the whipped cream. When he pulled away, Claire's face was very red, and she was very flustered. Don't play games with me, gorgeous. I play dirrrrty.

-Break to feed the velociraptors-

Having both taken a cab to the restaurant, Claire and Owen opted to share one heading back to their respective apartments. Claire's apartment was closer and in a much nicer building than Owen's, but he imagined her severance pay from Masrani Global was much more generous than his from InGen, and she had probably already found another job. Owen tipped the cabbie to convince him to stick around as he walked Claire to her door. Claire had insisted on at least paying the cab fare as far as her apartment. They walked through her building together, his blazer draped around her shoulders, along with his arm. They stopped when they reached Claire's apartment and stood facing each other.

"Thank you for dinner, Owen." Claire smiled softly, pushing her hair behind one delicate ear.

"Thank you for the second first date, Claire." Owen leaned down and kissed her passionately, pulling her flush against him. The kiss felt like it stretched on for hours, and when they broke apart, they were both panting. Claire's face was flushed.

"Won't you…come inside?" Claire offered. "For…for coffee?" Owen thanked whichever gods had decided to show him favor and followed Claire into her apartment. He sincerely hoped that cabbie didn't wait too long for him.

A/N: That got suuuuuper steamy, more so than I had originally intended! Well, drop me a review and let me know what you think! Who knows, I might just make this a two-shot. ;P