Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Claire’s phone starts to ring from its spot next to her, her sister’s name on the screen, and a part of her hates that she considers ignoring the call. But Karen and the boys will be at the park this week, and she doesn't want to start their visit off on the wrong foot. Besides, it might be a good primer for days on end of her sister’s pestering. Or at least that's what she tells herself before she accepts the call.

“Hey Karen,” Claire starts, trying to get ahead of her sister. “When the ferry docks, I’ll meet you at the landing. You’ll all have VIP Access, and I was thinking -”

“You know I already read the email your assistant sent me weeks ago,” Karen interrupts. “I was actually calling about something else.”

Claire tenses immediately, knowing where this is going. 

“There’s this new guy at work, and he seems perfect for you. I was wondering if I could give him your number.”

As she stares out the living room window, focusing on a dinosaur in the distance in an effort not to roll her eyes, Claire briefly wonders if it would be wrong to pray for some sort of park incident to get her out of this conversation.

When the dinosaur leans up to grab a leaf from a branch instead of making a run for the fence, Claire tries to draw in a calming breath before she takes her usual pragmatic approach of dealing with her sister.

“How would that even work? I live in Costa Rica.”

“Well it’s not like you’re going to spend forever there, Claire.”

“I think I will,” Claire says firmly, even though she knows it won’t be enough, and feels a surge of frustration.

Karen has made hints in the past, in this never-ending conversation about Claire's personal life, but this is the first time she’s outright said it. Despite the fact that Claire has worked with Masrani Global since college, that she’s called the park home for years, and that she openly loves her work, Karen is always going to see it as temporary. It’s one thing for their mother to voice her open dissatisfaction at Claire’s life, but it’s another to hear it from her sister.

She realizes suddenly that her hands are shaking slightly, and feels the emotion in her chest boil over. In a split-second, she decides to throw practicality out the window for once. “Besides, I’m dating somebody here.”

There's a beat of shocked silence before Karen reacts.

“Claire, that’s amazing!” Karen says, sounding like Christmas just arrived a week early.

Claire hums over the line, hoping it sounds like she's agreeing with her sister and not choking on her own tongue.

As she's about to let herself hope that this will be the end of it, Karen launches into a barrage of questions.

“Why are you just mentioning this now? How long have you been dating? Are you going to introduce us over Christmas?”

Claire flinches and wonders how she’s going to back-pedal out of this. Instead, she digs herself deeper. “You’ll meet when you get here.”

She hears the words come out of her mouth and immediately presses her forehead against the window in front of her, closing her eyes in disbelief. She could have made up a person and said they were away for the holidays, she could have said they aren't at that stage yet. Really, she could have said anything other than agreeing to introduce her non-existent partner to her sister.

Before Karen can jump headfirst back into her questions, there's a loud, familiar knock at the door of her suite, and Claire almost breathes a sigh of relief into the phone. “But I actually have to go, so we can talk about all this later.”

“Oh, is it date night?” Karen asks, her voice somehow sounding even more excited. 

Claire heads for the door and considers throwing her phone in the garbage bin as she passes by it. Instead, she answers her sister quickly and bluntly.

“Yes,” Claire says, her thumb hovering over the end call button. “Make sure to re-read Zara’s email before your flight.”

She hangs up with a quick goodbye, pulling the door open. On the other side, Zara stands in a loose gift shop t-shirt and leggings, her arms full of supplies for their regular Saturday night in. 

“Hey boss, took you long enough,” Zara huffs, unloading a bag of takeaway into Claire’s arms and inviting herself into the suite, immediately heading to the kitchen to get a corkscrew for the wine.

When Claire stays in the entryway, making no movement towards the kitchen, Zara looks up in concern. “You okay?”

“I think I did something very stupid.”

“Was it Owen Grady?” Zara asks, solely to get a rise out of her. 

The disgusted expression that crosses Claire’s face is completely worth it. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Obviously not, but I love that you fall for it every time,” Zara says, trading a glass of wine for the bag of food Claire still hasn’t done anything with. 

Claire sits down at the kitchen island, nursing her drink as Zara moves around her to pull plates out of the cupboard with the familiar ease of someone who’s done this dozens of times. She portions out their food, making sure to give Claire an extra dumpling, while she waits for her to loop Zara into whatever crisis she’s facing. 

“I told my sister that I’m dating someone,” Claire breaks the silence.

It’s the last thing Zara expects her to say, and her stomach swoops. She feels oddly like she just watched the train she was supposed to be on leave the station without her, and tries to convince herself that she isn’t sure why.

“I was kidding about Owen earlier, but are you seeing someone?” Zara’s voice comes out too high pitched, landing somewhere between fake interest and panic, and she takes a hurried gulp of wine to try and hide it. 

Claire gives her an odd look. “No? That’s why this is such a mess. Karen and the boys are visiting this week, and now she thinks she’s meeting my -”

“Paramour? Lover?” Zara cuts in to try and ease some of the tension. She can tell Claire is about to spiral, and feels the familiar compulsion to save her from herself.

“Zara, be serious.” 

“I swear I’m trying. But you have to admit, this situation is so far from the norm.”

In response, Claire pushes her plate aside and raises her arms in a defeated gesture. “What am I going to do?”

Zara walks around the kitchen island until she’s standing next to Claire. 

“You’re going to figure it out. You solve much worse problems than this every day at work,” Zara says, squeezing Claire’s shoulder. “Remember that plan for a hybrid dinosaur that almost got pushed ahead? This is nothing compared to that shitshow.”

Claire hums, lowering her arms and leaning back into Zara’s grasp to look up at her. 

Zara feels flustered suddenly. She pulls away and grabs Claire’s plate instead, tipping her head towards the living room, just to give her hands something to do other than manhandle her boss.

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They’re finished with dinner and a bottle of wine when Zara broaches the subject again. 

“Have you come up with any ideas yet?”

“Of course you’d bring it up just as I finally manage to block it out,” Claire groans, resting her head against the back of the sofa. “I still have no clue what I’m going to do.”

Zara watches Claire and lets her eyes trace down her neck and across her collarbones before clearing her throat, moving to pick up her glass. When she realizes hers is empty, she grabs Claire’s instead, telling herself it’s an accident when she presses her mouth against the stain left behind by Claire’s lipstick. 

A comfortable silence settles over them before Zara breaks it.

“Claire, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course you can.”

“Why did you tell your sister that you’re seeing someone?” Zara asks gently.

Claire sighs, reaching for her glass in Zara’s hand. Zara lets her take it. 

“My sister has always been very persistent about me eventually finding someone and settling down like she did.”

“Isn’t she in the middle of a divorce right now?” Zara points out. Claire chokes on a laugh.

“Trust me, I thought that would change her tune, too. If anything, she’s only gotten worse. It’s like she wants one of us to have what she sees as the ultimate end goal, even if that might not be what I want,” Claire explains. 

“You don’t want a relationship?” Zara asks, still trying to tread carefully.

“I don’t know. I know I don’t want the house in the suburbs with a husband and kids like my sister pictures every time she asks me about my personal life,” Claire says. “I’m happy with my life as it is. I love my job, my friends, and the park. I honestly don’t plan on ever leaving this.” 

Claire gestures around them, and Zara hopes she’s included just as much as the suite and the hum of dinosaurs filtering in through the cracked window.

“If somebody else ends up fitting into what I already have, great,” Claire continues. “But I don’t feel like there’s anything missing, even if my sister insists otherwise. I just - she’s my older sister. I guess I just got tired of feeling like I was disappointing her.”

Zara nods in understanding and watches the way Claire’s free hand squeezes her own knee, clearly uncomfortable with how much information she’s revealed.

“I just have one more question: you have other friends?” Zara asks, gasping with fake shock, leaning closer to touch her hand to Claire’s, feeling her hand unclench at the distraction.

Claire rolls her eyes. “Oh, did I forget to mention how close Lowery and I are?”

“Maybe you should ask your best friend Lowery to fake date you, then,” Zara says. “Or you could ask me.”

Claire freezes. Zara taps the back of her hand to keep her grounded. 

“What?”

“There’s nobody on this island who knows you as well as I do, or who I hope you’d trust with something like this. It makes sense, Claire.”

“You would do that for me?” Claire asks, still clearly shocked.

“Of course I would,” Zara scoffs, pretending to be offended. “And here I thought you already knew there aren’t any limits to what I’m willing to do for you, Ms. Dearing.”

Claire shoots her the same glare she always does when Zara uses her last name outside of the office, and Zara grins. “Although I guess if we’re going to do this, I should workshop some pet names.”

At that, Claire shoves at Zara, failing to push her anywhere away from her. “I didn’t agree to anything yet.”

“Honestly, Claire, I’m hurt that you even have to think about it,” Zara says, her voice lilting, knowing full well that she’s sliding into flirting territory, but she can’t be bothered to care at the moment. “I’m a catch, it should be an automatic yes.”

“You’re my assistant, how would we explain that?”

“Is your sister going to ask about the hoops we would have had to jump through with HR if this was a real relationship?” Zara asks, tilting her head. 

Claire flushes, and Zara takes that as an answer.

“We’ll just tell her the story that’s closest to the truth: I started as your assistant, but after enough overtime and lunch hours together, we began spending time together outside of work, and it eventually led to this,” Zara gestures between them. “As far as she’s concerned, ‘this’ is romantic, but the story itself isn’t that far off.”

“You really shouldn’t be making as much sense as you are.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss.”

“Get the other bottle of wine out of the fridge. I need more time to think about this,” Claire waves her away and Zara does as she’s told, falling easily into their usual dynamic even though they’re off the clock.

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Claire wakes up to a headache and a fully stocked nightstand thanks to Zara. She takes the Tylenol, chokes down the water, and carries the lukewarm tea out to the living room towards the sound of her assistant.

“Hey,” Zara says, looking up from Claire’s tablet and lowering the volume on the tv. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Claire shakes her head and settles down on the sofa next to her.

“I’m supposed to be the one with the workaholic reputation,” Claire says, her voice coming out gravelly as she points at the tablet.

Zara’s posture straightens. “I’m so glad you noticed. This actually isn’t work-related.”

At Claire’s questioning look, she tilts the screen to show her a spreadsheet.

“It looks work-related.”

“It’s you-related,” Zara explains. “Well, us-related, I suppose.”

Claire takes a moment to process what she’s looking at. 

Claire raises an eyebrow at the second line of the first column, and pauses at the last line. “We have dinner together every Christmas you spend on the island.”

“I know, but waking up alone on Christmas can still be a gut-punch sometimes,” Zara says with a shrug, trying not to make a big deal of it.

“You’re always welcome here, I hope you know that,” Claire says, frowning. “We don’t need an elaborate ruse for that.”

“Then you’ll find me on your front step on Christmas morning regardless of if we go through with this or not,” Zara says. “But what do you think about the rest of it?”

“I think that I’m worried about the effects of this beyond the holidays.”

Zara adds another row to the spreadsheet and pauses. “Could you expand on that?”

“Talking like this on my sofa instead of in our office feels weird.”

“Do you want to head into the office on a Sunday to hash this out?” Zara asks with a pointed glance. “Now quit changing the subject.”

Claire shifts uncomfortably on the sofa before letting her barrier down enough to let a few of her worries pass through. Zara sits in the silence and waits patiently.

“What if Karen doesn’t believe us, or finds out we’re lying, and it ruins my relationship with her?” Claire confesses.

Zara starts typing, but shoots a look across the screen at Claire. “And what if neither of those things happen?”

“Oh, so in six months, I’ll just tell her it didn’t work out, and then we’re back to square one?” Claire retorts.

“Why are you breaking up with me in six months?”

“I can’t fake date you forever, Zara. And I give it six months before Karen starts pestering us about our future,” Claire explains.

“Fake marry me, then. Let’s get ahead of her.”

Claire turns to Zara and looks at her like she can’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” Zara says with a shrug. “Would it help if I got down on one knee?”

Zara lays the tablet down and moves like she’s about to get up, and Claire grabs her arm to stop her.

“If you do that, I’m not above tossing you in the Mosasaurus tank.”

Zara laughs and settles back into her seat. 

“I figured if you were already talking crazy, I should join you.” 

Claire glares at her. “Worrying about all possible outcomes isn’t crazy, Zara. It’s practical.”

Zara relaxes, tucking her legs up underneath herself. She watches Claire, perched on the edge of her seat like she’s about to make a run for it out of her own apartment, and feels a wave of frustration and protectiveness.

“Claire,” Zara says softly. “It isn’t practical when you’re working yourself up into a fit over what-ifs.”

Claire fidgets with her hands in her lap, avoiding looking at her assistant. “We’re taking a big risk here. I just want to make sure we have a plan for all contingencies.”

Zara quirks an eyebrow at Claire’s phrasing but doesn’t comment on it.

“If you need to fake a break up with me after this, then you can put the blame on me and tell Karen you need a breather from dating after such a monumental loss,” Zara says, enjoying the way Claire scoffs. “But how about we cross that bridge when we get to it, and focus for now on surviving the next week.”

She knows it’s not enough to fully quell Claire’s anxieties, but it should be enough to calm her down for now. When Claire lets out a sigh and leans back into the sofa, mirroring Zara’s posture, she knows she’s won.

“Claire?” Zara starts, waiting until she has her attention. “Now that we’ve talked about it, I just have to ask you one more thing.”

She pauses and watches Claire’s features twist in confusion before continuing, fake seriousness in her voice. “Will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend?”

Claire surprises them both by reaching across the space between them and taking Zara’s hands in hers. “I suppose I don’t have any other options.”

Zara tilts her head back at that and laughs, and Claire grins in response.

Chapter Text

After talking Claire off the ledge, Zara suggests they leave the suite and spend a lazy Sunday on the employees-only section of the beach, in an effort to get Claire to calm down and relax before her family arrives.

Still, Claire lays on the lounge chair next to her, somehow managing to make resting in the sun look like a chore. Zara watches her for a moment, before leaning over to snag her phone off the stack of towels between them. She enters Claire’s passcode and tosses the phone over to her.

“Post a picture of us on Instagram.”

Claire tilts her head and looks at Zara over the top of her sunglasses, knowing that’s all she needs to do to get her to explain.

“Most people post pictures with their girlfriends on their social media,” Zara says. “If we’re doing this, we should go all in.”

“I haven’t posted anything in months, and it’s all park-related pictures.” 

“What a way to return to the app, then,” Zara says, gesturing at her bikini-clad body. “And this is basically park-related. We’re at the park, and I’m your biggest asset here.”

“Technically the biggest asset here is -”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Claire. Just take the picture.”

Claire fumbles with her phone, opening up the camera. Zara nudges her bare arm with her hip, their skin sticking together from the sweat and sunscreen, until she makes room in the chair for Zara to fit in next to her. 

When Claire makes no attempt at posing, Zara reaches over to push her sunglasses up over her bob before adjusting her own frames. She rests her chin on Claire’s shoulder and leans in until the top of her head is pressing against Claire’s cheek. When they both smile at the camera, Claire’s looks closer to a grimace.

“Look a little less like you’re being held at gunpoint, boss.”

Claire rolls her eyes before trying again and taking the photo. They look sunkissed and happy, and Claire pauses, staring at the versions of them from ten seconds prior.

She shows it to Zara, who nods in approval before reaching her hand out for the phone. Claire passes it over, watching Zara open Instagram and start typing. When she hands the phone back to Claire, the post is ready to go.

“‘The best way to spend my weekend’?” Claire reads the caption and turns towards Zara before remembering that they’re still sharing the same space, her eyes snapping back ahead of her. 

“It’s not a lie,” Zara retorts, pointing a finger at Claire. “If it was, you wouldn’t keep spending all of your weekends like this.”

Claire ignores her and presses the post button. Zara’s own phone buzzes in her abandoned chair with the notification, and she stands to pick it up as others start rolling in. 

clairedearing tagged you in a photo

viv.krill commented @zarayoung @clairedearing Looking good!

loweryc commented @zarayoung @clairedearing nice pic, guys

gradyowen commented @clairedearing you free later?

Zara likes Vivian’s and Lowery’s comments before scoffing at Owen’s.

zarayoung : @gradyowen She’s busy. Indefinitely. 

Claire glances at Zara, hiding a smile, before she likes her comment.

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As they wrap up their time at the beach, Zara is in the middle of packing up their bags when a timer on her phone goes off. She sighs and reaches back into her bag for the sunscreen, flipping open the cap and slowly approaching Claire.

“Why are you walking over here like I’m one of Owen Grady’s raptors?” Claire asks, freezing in place. 

“Probably because you act like one whenever I do this.” Zara responds, taking a step to the left to make sure Claire is cornered by the water. 

“I really don’t remember your job description mentioning anything about monitoring my sunscreen application.”

“I guess you’ll have to email HR tomorrow and ask them to add it.” Zara says, trying not to laugh when Claire starts frantically looking around for an escape route. When she doesn’t find one, she lets out an entirely too dramatic sigh of defeat and takes off her sunglasses, letting Zara dollop the sunscreen down the bridge of her nose and across her collarbones.

When Zara motions for her to turn around, Claire groans, and Zara waits until she’s applying the cream to her shoulder blades before she says anything. “Just let me take care of you, Claire.”

Claire stills, feeling exposed. It's one thing for them to both know Claire's weak points, but it's another to acknowledge them. She draws in a stuttering breath and hopes it isn’t noticeable.

“You’re really leaning into this girlfriend role.”

At that, Zara steps back and grins proudly, and Claire tries not to find it endearing.

As she shoulders their bags, Zara reaches out with her free hand and wraps her fingers loosely around Claire’s wrist, leading her towards Main Street.

“Where are we going?”

“Apparently I’m going to tell Masrani that his Operations Manager doesn’t know the park layout,” Zara answers. “But before that, let’s go to the gift shop.”

“What?” Claire asks, stopping so suddenly in the middle of the walkway that it pulls Zara back a step. “Why?”

“Well, my girlfriend’s family is visiting, so I thought I’d get them something to welcome them to the park,” Zara says, tilting her head. “I have to make a good first impression, you know.”

Claire flushes and mentally blames the sun, but she definitely isn’t going to tell Zara that.

“Zara, you really don’t have to do that. Honestly, you existing at all, even if we both know it’s not real, is enough. I could be bringing Owen to meet my family, and Karen would be over the moon.”

“Charming, Claire,” Zara says, heading again in the direction of the gift shop. “But you picked me, and I’m clearing that low bar and pulling out all the stops.”

To prove her point, Zara opens the door and gestures for Claire to go first, smiling widely when Claire shoots her a look.

Claire weaves around tourists and lets Zara sort through the (admittedly overpriced) souvenirs to find something for her sister and nephews. She holds up a keychain, the name Zora stamped across the front next to a cartoon t-rex. 

“Why do they have this, but nothing with my name?”

Claire offers her a shrug and little else, but when Zara turns back towards the display, she takes her phone out of the back pocket of her shorts and sends an email to her contact in Product Design. 

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After another dinner back at Claire’s suite, Claire sits with her head in her hands at the kitchen island. Zara keeps an eye on her, but otherwise moves around the kitchen as if nothing is amiss, knowing that if Claire wanted to talk about it she would say something.

Zara is in the middle of filling up a glass of water when Claire breaks the silence. 

“How are we going to make this believable?”

Zara pauses. “I thought we covered that already.”

“Logistically, yes, but I mean -“ Claire starts, halting mid-sentence to gesture between them. “This .” 

Zara raises an eyebrow. Claire flushes. 

“Physical affection, Zara. I’m not exactly in the habit of fondling my assistant, friend or not.” 

“Fondling?” Zara asks, trying to hide a grin behind the rim of her glass. 

“Stop smiling, you know what I mean.” Claire huffs.

At that, Zara rounds the island, leaning against the counter as she sets her glass down. She bumps Claire’s thigh with her knee until she looks up at her. 

“How about we practice, then.” Zara says with a shrug, aiming for nonchalance. 

Claire opens and closes her mouth soundlessly. Zara doesn’t bother prodding, already knowing what she would say if she was capable of forming words right now.

“I know it’ll be weird, but we have to get comfortable with it before your sister gets here if it’s going to look believable,” Zara counters the argument Claire hasn’t actually spoken aloud. “We have until tomorrow, so let’s use that time to get used to physical affection outside of our usual wheelhouse.”

“You sound like me delivering a pitch to the board.” 

“I learned from the best,” Zara flirts. “But is that a yes?” 

She lets Claire think it over, tracing the pattern on the countertop with her fingertips, trying to look entirely unbothered by the conversation they’re having.

“This won’t change anything?” Claire asks softly, avoiding eye contact. Her hand is grasping the edge of the counter now, her knuckles whitening. Zara brushes her thumb in a quick line down the back of her hand, watching her relax.

“Claire, look at me,” she starts, waiting until Claire’s eyes are on her before continuing. “You’re the most headstrong person I know. If you don’t want this to change anything, then it won’t. Besides, we won’t be sticking our tongues down each others’ throats this week. At most, we’ll hold hands, and kiss the same way we’d kiss any of our other friends.”

Claire scrunches up her face at that. “Is that what you’re doing with Vivian every time you go to the Margaritaville weekend brunch?”

Zara tilts her head back and laughs. “No, but that’s mostly because I’m in too much of a rush to get back here and bother you endlessly before falling asleep on your sofa.”

Claire hums in disapproval, but still edges further into Zara’s space. She reaches out slowly, trailing her fingers up the inside of Zara’s wrist like she’s testing the waters. Zara stands still and lets her.

Finally, she looks up and nods. “Okay, Zara.”

Zara sucks in a quick, surprised breath, pausing to gather her nerves. Claire smirks at that, and Zara suddenly wants to wipe that look off her face. 

As she leans down, she reaches out to tuck Claire’s hair behind her ear, before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. She pauses, and then presses another to her temple.

On the receiving end of the slow, chaste kisses, Claire feels the beginnings of a spiral creep up on her. She takes in a deep breath, and reminds herself that what they’re doing may be new, but it’s still Zara on the other side of it. Her steady, comforting presence has been there for her countless times, and this isn’t any different, even if it feels like it is. 

“Is this okay?” Zara breaks the silence, her voice coming out in a hoarse tone that neither of them are used to. Claire nods, afraid of what her own voice would sound like if she tried to speak.

Zara shifts slightly, moving to kiss the bridge of Claire’s eyebrow, and then the edge of her cheek, continuing to move slowly like she’s afraid that Claire will startle and bolt. 

Claire suddenly wishes that Zara was wearing lipstick so there would be evidence of this all over her face when they’re done. She pushes the thought away as quickly as it arrives. 

“Hold my hand,” Claire demands, her voice coming out too loud, and a blush crawls up her chest at the sudden request. It only increases when she realizes just how silly it is to be this flustered over something so small. 

Zara doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she interlocks their fingers, her thumb brushing across Claire’s knuckles in a soothing pattern, her mouth moving down Claire’s jaw. “How’s that, boss?” 

Claire squeezes her hand. “You really need to stop calling me that.”

“Hey, as far as your sister knows, we’re into a little power play.” Zara counters.

“I would really prefer if she didn’t know anything about that.”

“Oh, so we are?” Zara asks, her tone somewhere between mocking and flirting. She pulls back and hesitates before leaning in to press her forehead to Claire’s, upping the ante.

They stay like that for a moment, and it stops feeling odd. Instead, it feels like something they should’ve started doing a long time ago. 

Claire feels her heart in her throat suddenly and swallows it back down. 

“Are you going to actually kiss me anytime soon?” 

Zara leans back, her eyes searching Claire’s face. Claire doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but she hopes that she finds it. 

“Are you sure?” Zara asks, suddenly serious. 

Claire nods. “Please, Zara.” 

She doesn’t even have time to regret how desperate she sounds before Zara’s kissing her. 

Zara’s mouth is soft and sure against hers, and if Claire had been in the habit of thinking about her assistant’s mouth before tonight, she would say that it’s exactly what she expected. 

She finds herself fighting back the urge to gasp into it, and channels that energy into returning the kiss instead. Before, Zara’s familiar presence had been lingering around her, and now Claire feels it like it’s a part of her. 

When Zara’s hand leaves hers to cup the side of Claire’s face, her thumb making the same motion up her cheekbone that she had previously been making across the back of her hand, Claire pulls herself away with a sharp breath, her eyes still closed. 

She stays like that for a long moment, waiting to find her voice again.

“I think we’ve got the basics down,” Claire forces out, ignoring how out of breath she sounds, as she opens her eyes and blinks slowly. “That was pretty believable, right?”

Zara nods, looking dazed. Claire grabs the glass of water next to her and takes a gulp, realizing too late that it’s Zara’s. 

Zara doesn’t make any move to stop her. Or any move at all, too busy with looking everywhere but at Claire, studying the suite she’s been in countless times before like it’s the first time she’s seeing it. 

“We should get some rest,” Claire says, breaking the silence. “Are you alright to get home?”

She doesn’t know why she asks, when Zara only drank half a glass of water and lives two floors down. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow at the landing,” Zara waves her off, already heading towards the door. “Don’t be late.”

Claire flips her off over her shoulder and Zara laughs.

Chapter Text

As the ferry carrying her family approaches the shore, Claire switches her weight from one foot to the other, praying her heels don’t give out from under her, spinning the tablet in her hands welcoming “Karen, Zach, and Gray Mitchell” to the island.

“Claire, stop fidgeting.” Zara murmurs, peering up over her sunglasses at her boss and grabbing the tablet. 

“How are you so calm right now?”

“How are you not?” Zara counters. “You’ve led meetings more stressful than greeting your family to your park.”

“This is different,” Claire responds stiffly. “Zara, I’m nervous.”

“I’ve noticed,” Zara says, knowing that Claire doesn't want to be coddled after admitting to having a weakness.

Instead, she settles for moving the tablet to her right hand, reaching for Claire’s with her left. 

Claire accepts it, twining their hands together and glancing over at Zara.

“Play along, boss.” Zara teases, enjoying the way Claire relaxes either from the sense of normalcy her tone provides, the comfort of her warm grasp, or a combination of the two.

Before they know it, the ferry is docking and the crowd is disembarking. Karen makes a beeline for her sister, with Gray following excitedly, and Zach trailing along behind them both, his eyes on his cell phone.

Claire wraps her sister in a hug before reaching out for her nephews, watching Zara introduce herself to Karen out of the corner of her eye. 

“You must be the girlfriend.” Karen says, smiling wider than she did when she saw her own sister. 

“That would be me,” Zara says without any hesitation. “I’m Zara. It’s so nice to finally meet everyone.”

She’s completely composed and entirely too charming. Claire feels envious, knowing full well that she’s stress sweating through her blouse just watching this interaction.

As Zara leads their little group towards the monorail, entertaining Gray’s incessant questions about the park, Claire and Karen fall behind.

“She’s gorgeous, Claire.” Karen teases, bumping her shoulder against Claire’s.

Claire blushes and shrugs her sister off. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

-------------------------------

Once her family is checked into the hotel and the boys are wandering around the suite, Claire waves Karen over to the window and gestures towards the employee apartments. “We live in that building, so we’re just a short walk away.”

Karen looks at her sister, surprised but smiling. “Oh, Claire, you’re living together?”

Claire immediately freezes, and Zara notices from her spot near the entryway where she’s organizing the access passes. She waits to see if Claire is going to recover, but when she stays standing stockstill, an awkward silence starting to fill the room, Zara strides over and grabs her hand.

“It’s relatively new,” Zara cuts in, tugging Claire towards the door gently. “We can stop by after dinner to give you a tour, but we’ll let you get settled in for now.”

When the hotel room door shuts behind them, leaving them alone in the hallway, Zara looks shell-shocked. “I have no idea why I said that.”

“Now you know why I blurted out that I was seeing someone after a phone call with her.” Claire says, letting go of Zara’s hand to speed-walk towards the elevator.

Zara chases after her. “I still don’t understand how you walk so fast in those heels.”

Claire laughs and spins around so she can look at Zara while she talks, walking backwards as she does. “I usually try to reserve it for emergencies, and considering we have an hour to make it look like you live in my suite, this definitely counts as one.”

“Technically, we have less than that if we’re meeting them at the Innovation Center.” Zara replies.

Claire turns back around, walking as quickly as she can without breaking into a run. Zara follows after her, complaining under her breath the entire way home.

The elevator in their building stops at Zara’s floor first so she can grab some of her things. As the doors open and she steps out into the hallway, Claire reaches into her bag and tosses a keycard to Zara.

“You should probably have your own if we’re going to make this believable.”

Zara catches the keycard and stares down at it for a moment before putting on a casual expression. She leans in through the open elevator doors, a sensor beeping in protest, and presses a quick kiss to the corner of Claire’s mouth.

“See you at home, boss.”

The doors shut before she can see Claire’s reaction, but that doesn’t stop her from picturing it anyway. 

-------------------------------

Zara lets herself into Claire’s suite, the duffle bag across her shoulder slamming into the door frame as she kicks a cardboard box in ahead of her. Claire jumps at the sound.

“Jesus Christ, Zara. Are you actually moving in?”

“With the salary you pay me, I’m surprised these aren’t actually all of my worldly possessions.” 

Zara leans down to open the box, pulling out item after item until multiple sweaters, a notepad, a stack of photos, her favourite mug from the gift shop, and a bottle of perfume all rest on the coffee table in front of Claire.

“I’m going to put my toiletries in the bathroom,” Zara says, before gesturing at the pile. “Place the notes in a few different spots, put up the pictures, hang my jumpers up somewhere, and spritz my perfume around.”

Claire starts gathering everything back up as Zara heads toward the bathroom. 

“Make sure it looks natural, Claire.” Zara calls over her shoulder. Claire sends a glare at the back of her head, even though she knows she was moments away from leaving the sweaters all in one pile on the armchair.

Instead, she takes care putting one over the back of the sofa and another on a hook by the front door. When she drapes the third one across the barstool she was sitting in when Zara kissed her for the first time, she lets go of the sweater and turns away like she’s fleeing a crime scene.

Next, she turns to the notepad. Recognizing it as the one Zara always carries in her work bag, at first Claire wonders why it was included. As she flips through the pages, she realizes it’s littered with notes between the two of them during meetings and phone calls that, out of context, sound something close to domestic.

Pad thai for dinner?

Running out to get coffee - I’ll grab you something xx

Going to be late for dinner tonight, I’m meeting Viv for a drink after work.

Can you get my spare blazer?

          What’s in it for me?

                You won’t lose me to an untimely death by boardroom AC.

Claire catches herself smiling at the notes and quickly pulls the pages out, placing them around the suite: on an end table, the entryway table, and the kitchen counter next to the fridge, with Zara’s favourite mug on top of it. Claire pauses, before reaching into the cupboard and pulling out her own mug to sit next to it. The Apatosaurus on Zara’s mug and the Triceratops on hers stare up at her.

In the bathroom, Zara touches up her makeup, staring at her own reflection in the mirror to keep from looking at her everyday items commingling with Claire’s next to the bathroom sink. She draws in a slow, even breath, and reaches for her perfume, before she remembers that it’s with Claire.

When she ducks her head out of the doorframe to ask for it back, she pauses, her eyes darting over her own belongings scattered across Claire’s suite. Twenty minutes ago, they were all in their own spots in her home, and now they’re in Claire’s, looking like this is where they should’ve been all along.

Zara’s hand comes up to her chest, trying to physically force the sudden ache down, as she walks towards the pictures that Claire is sticking to the fridge with magnets from the gift shop.

Claire nudges Zara’s shoulder when she stands next to her.

“How’d I do?” 

Zara looks around the suite again and nods, not saying anything. Claire tilts her head, frowning slightly, but doesn’t comment on it. She settles for changing the subject instead.

“Why do you have so many pictures of us, anyway?”

“We’ve been friends for long enough that I was putting something together with them for your birthday.” Zara answers with a shrug, trying not to make a big deal out of it.

Claire hums. “Sorry to ruin the surprise, then.”

Reaching just past Zara, Claire picks up the fourth sweater that was in the box. 

“The other ones are around,” Claire says, gesturing at the rest of the suite. “But I’m pretty sure this one is actually mine. Unless you also went to my alma mater and didn’t tell me.”

Zara feigns surprise, trying to look like she’s never seen the sweater before in her life, and not like she’s already planning on squirreling it out of here when it’s time for her to go back home at the end of this. 

Whether she’s successful or not, there’s no way she’s telling Claire that she just grabbed all of her favourites out of her closet, and didn’t mean for this one to end up back with Claire. 

Claire hands it over to Zara, and Zara wonders if Claire sprayed it with her perfume, or if it just smells like it from how often Zara wears it at home.

“Bring it in your bag to dinner for the walk back, it’ll help with our story.”

Zara raises her eyebrows. “You’re becoming quite the mastermind, Ms. Dearing.”

Claire waves her off, heading towards the bedroom to change for dinner. “I blame you.”

Zara gasps in mock offence, her hand reaching for her chest again. As she watches Claire walk away, her fingers press into her sternum like she’s trying to grab onto whatever is taking up all this space in her chest and pull it out.

Twisting her arm slightly, she checks her watch. “You have ten minutes, Claire. I’m timing you.”

Claire grumbles as she shuts the bedroom door behind her, and Zara smiles, turning back to the pictures on the fridge.

In the five years they’ve worked together, and the four-and-a-half years they’ve been friends, they’ve taken a surprising amount of pictures together. 

A couple of them are from the early days of their friendship, when Claire’s hair was longer and Zara’s outfits were better suited for the weather in England than in Costa Rica. They look so young, and very much like two people still getting comfortable with one another.

A few more cover the inbetween years, most of them in group settings. Even in the ones where they aren’t next to each other, Zara’s arm slings over their friends’ shoulders to press against Claire’s.

The most recent set is from Vivian's birthday, after they shared a margarita flight and disappeared from the party to cram into the photobooth in the corner of the bar. In the bottom picture of the strip, Claire is grinning at the camera, and Zara is staring at her like she’s the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. 

Zara presses her fingertips to the edge of that one, startling slightly and pulling away when the door to Claire’s bedroom reopens. She doesn’t think Claire notices, considering she almost rams into the coffee table, too focused on answering emails on her phone.

“You’re leaving your phone in your bag for the entire dinner.” Zara calls across the suite.

Claire huffs, but doesn’t argue, half-afraid that Zara will call in a favour with IT to change her email password for the evening if she does.

She stops in the entryway, one heel already on. “Why are you still standing over there? You’re the one going on about the time crunch.”

Zara jumps into action, grabbing her bag and slipping on her flats, squeezing past Claire to swing the door open for her. “And you’re the one who made the itinerary I’m trying to follow. Let’s stick to it less the park collapses.”

-------------------------------

Claire and Zara walk into the Innovation Center like it’s just another day on the island, even though it feels like the stakes are much higher. As they pass through the Parasaurolophus hologram at the same time, Zara half wishes she had her work tablet with her to give her some sort of crutch. Glancing over at Claire, she wonders just how much her boss’s behaviour has rubbed off on her.

Karen reaches out to hug them both like she’s greeting them all over again, and Zara tries to welcome the affection.

“Does anybody have any requests for dinner?” Zara addresses the group. Claire’s head snaps in her direction, her eyes burning into the side of Zara’s face. 

She knows that Claire knows she saw Winston’s Steakhouse on the itinerary for dinner tonight. 

“What about Winston’s Steakhouse?” Zara adds, because she doesn’t have a death wish. She just likes getting a rise out of Claire.

“That’s a great idea.” Claire cuts in, reaching out to grab onto Zara’s upper arm. She pulls her towards the doors, narrowly missing a Spinosaurus hologram in the process. Her blunt nails dig into her bicep slightly, and Zara grins at her. Claire’s eyebrow twitches.

-------------------------------

Once they’re all seated for dinner, Karen has the grace to wait until the waiter sets down their glasses of water before she starts her interrogation.

“Well I’d ask how you two met, but I know who Zara is.” Karen laughs like her sister dating her assistant is some sort of inside joke. Claire winces, and Zara glances at her.

“It took a lot of persistence on my part to convince Claire to get lunch with me that first time,” Zara says, reaching for Claire’s hand over the cutlery, in part to sell the story, but mostly to comfort her. “But I’m very grateful that I didn’t stay as just her assistant.”

Zara squeezes Claire’s hand so she knows that she’s telling the truth. Claire squeezes back.

“I know how rigid Claire can be, so that’s no small feat.” 

Zara’s smile freezes on her face, and it’s Claire’s turn to comfort her, moving her hand out of Zara’s and down to her wrist, drawing a gentle pattern across the underside.

“Claire has high standards, and for good reason. Her standards got her all of this,” Zara says, her tone leaving no room for argument as she gestures around them. “She has an incredible life, and I’m lucky that she made a place for me in it.”

“Of course,” Karen nods, finally realizing that she may have overstepped. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

Before she can jump into another line of questioning, the waiter arrives, and they let out discreet, matching sighs of relief.

“Hey Max,” Zara says with a small wave. “You already know what our order is.”

At least once a week, usually after an especially busy day, Claire and Zara end up at this particular restaurant, with this particular waiter, and eventually they fell into a routine of ordering the same two appetizers to split.

“You got it. What about drinks?” Max asks, pulling out his notepad.

Claire orders first, and Zara looks at the menu, mulling the options over.

“I’ll get the cocktail of the day.”

Max moves to write it down, but Claire cuts in before he can. 

“Zara, it has grapefruit juice in it.” 

“Is she allergic? I’m allergic to pineapple.” Gray interjects. 

Zara smiles at him. “No, I just really hate it, so I’m glad your Aunt Claire caught that.” 

She turns back to Max. “I’ll just get whatever Claire’s having.”

She knows that whatever Claire ordered will be something she can either share with Zara or pawn off on her if necessary, so she’s probably going to like it.

Karen’s eyes dart between them as the rest of the table places their orders. When Max leaves, she doesn’t waste a minute.

“Do you two come here often? I know I almost interrupted a date night with my phone call the other day.”

Claire briefly considers texting Lowery and asking him to cut the power to the restaurant to get them the hell out of there.

Instead, she shrugs. “We come here often enough. Date night is usually takeout at home on Saturday nights.”

Zara nods along, trying not to look surprised at how cool Claire is playing this.

“I’d prefer to take Claire out for date night, but our jobs are so busy, I don’t usually get the chance.” Zara says, trying to one-up her. 

Claire raises an eyebrow at her, leaning forward with her chin in her hand.

“Oh? Where would you take me?” 

“I guess you’ll find out on the next date night,” Zara flirts, draping her arm across the back of Claire’s chair. "One of the perks of dating the boss is that I can use your name to get us reservations."

"So my name is doing the heavy lifting here?"

Zara makes a show of looking affronted. "Hey, I'm the one making the phone call."

Claire smiles. "That is what I hired you for."

She reaches behind her shoulder to squeeze Zara's forearm to emphasize that she's joking.

Karen watches the interaction, looking like she’s moments away from clapping her hands together. Meanwhile Zach looks bored, and Gray is too enthralled by the Carnotaurus skeleton in the centre of the room to notice anything else. Claire considers it a success.

-------------------------------

After dinner, they stop by Claire’s suite for a quick tour. Claire lets Zara go ahead, using her borrowed keycard to unlock the door like she does this every day. 

Claire takes a deep breath as they walk into the suite, silently praying that the rush job they did putting everything together before dinner pays off. 

Zara leads the boys out to the balcony to show them that you can see clear through to the Stegosaurus paddock at the right angle, while Claire shows Karen around.

Karen pauses by the fridge, looking at the pictures scattered across it. 

“How long have you been together? I don’t think I’ve asked that yet.”

Claire hesitates, and decides on a non-answer that sits close to the truth. 

“That’s a topic of debate. One day she was my assistant, and the next she was the most important person to me on the island, but neither of us know exactly when that happened.” 

Karen smiles at that. “I meant it when I said that I’m happy for you, Claire. I know I can be a lot, but I really do just want the best for you. Even if I’m not always going about it the right way."

She pulls Claire into a quick side hug. "With you living so far away, I’ve spent a lot of time worrying. I’m your big sister. And I know you love your job, but I want you to have something outside of that, too. Especially if you can’t have your family nearby.”

Claire feels a sudden wave of guilt for lying to her sister like this. She tries to remind herself that even if Karen is being supportive and a little reflective right now, she hasn’t always been, and that’s what pushed Claire to do this. That doesn’t mean it’s right, but it does help to remind her how she got into this situation. 

She suddenly wishes Zara was in the room with them. She’s held her assistant’s hand more in the past twenty-four hours than she ever has before in all their years of friendship, and she’s already finding herself becoming reliant on Zara’s hand in hers to help ground her. She doesn’t know what that means, and isn’t sure if she wants to find out. 

As if sensing Claire’s internal crisis, Zara pushes open the balcony door, leading Zach and Gray in ahead of her. 

“Hi, darling.” Zara greets her as if they’ve been apart for days, and not just ten minutes. She reaches up to press a quick kiss to the side of Claire’s jaw, moving slow enough that Claire could stop her if she wanted to. 

Claire doesn’t move away. Instead, she leans into Zara’s space, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Hi yourself.” 

As if taking this as her cue, Karen signals for the boys to get ready to go.

“Thanks again for dinner,” she says as she makes her way towards the entryway. “We’ll see you guys in the morning for the full park experience.”

At that, Gray lets out a cheer, and Claire moves to walk her family to the door. Zara waves her goodbye from the kitchen, reaching for the bottle of wine in the fridge that she knows Claire is going to need. 

When Claire turns around after shutting the door, Zara already has two glasses waiting for them on the coffee table. She’s sitting on the sofa in Claire’s sweater, a throw blanket covering her legs, looking entirely at home. 

“How are you feeling?”

Claire lets out a sigh, leaning against the doorframe separating the kitchen and the living room. 

“Like I don’t know how we’re going to do days of this.”

“You’re having that bad of a time, huh?” Zara asks, tilting her head. Claire wonders if there’s an edge to her voice, or if she’s imagining things. 

“It’s not you,” she tries to course correct. “I just forgot how draining family can be. And there’s the guilt, too.”

She settles onto the sofa next to Zara, lifting up the blanket to join her underneath it. Their thighs press against each other, but neither of them move away. 

“I’m hoping it gets easier, but is it wrong to want to get comfortable with lying?”

Zara hums, reaching out to press down on the crinkle in between Claire’s eyebrows with her thumb. “You’re overthinking again.”

Claire takes a swig of wine instead of responding. 

“Just try and go with the flow, boss.” 

“Something I’m famously known for doing.”

Zara snorts, bumping her knee against Claire’s under the blanket. 

“The operative word here being ‘try’.” 

Claire would roll her eyes if she had the energy. Instead, she closes them, resting her head on Zara’s shoulder. 

“At least this feels normal.” she murmurs, burrowing closer. 

“Yeah? Do you want me to turn on the park channel for background noise while we get wine drunk and sleepy, like it’s a regular night in?”

Claire nods, and Zara moves as carefully as she can to reach the remote without jostling Claire. 

After a cycle of ads for the park’s restaurants, midway through a video of the Mosasaurus show, Zara’s finished her glass while Claire’s is getting warm in her suspiciously still grasp. 

Looking down to check if Claire is still awake, Zara gently takes the glass from her and sets it on the table, before pulling the blanket off of her own legs to cover Claire more fully. She wraps her arm around Claire’s shoulders and closes her eyes, letting herself sink into the feeling. 

Chapter Text

Zara wakes up alone to a knock on the front door of the suite, the throw blanket wrapped around her ankles. As she comes to her senses, she almost trips over it in her rush to Claire’s room. 

Pulling open the bedroom door, Zara launches herself onto the end of the bed. 

“Claire, wake up.”

Claire groans and rolls over, shoving her face into the pillow. Zara reaches out and grabs her ankle over the covers, shaking her awake. 

“I’m serious, I think your sister is at the door.”

At that, Claire sits up, her red hair wavy from the humidity and her sleep. “She’s what?”

“She’s here very early, and I can’t answer the door in last night’s clothes, having obviously just slept on the sofa.”

Claire squints at Zara, before she starts to pull herself out of bed. There’s another knock at the door, but it doesn’t make her move any faster. She’s never been a morning person, and that isn’t about to change. 

Zara feels like she’s about to have a conniption just from watching this, and fights the urge to herd her towards the door.

Claire pulls on a robe over her pyjamas and turns back to Zara. “Stay here.”

Zara nods, trying not to stare at her boss’s legs where the thin robe cuts off at the tops of her thighs.

When she closes the bedroom door behind her, Zara flops onto her back in the middle of the bed, trying to calm herself down. The sheets smell like Claire, which doesn’t help in the slightest. 

She listens to the muffled voices on the other side of the door until she hears the front door open and close again. Then it’s her turn to pull herself out of the bed. 

Padding out to the living room, she finds Claire standing with two coffees and a bag of pastries from the cafe closest to the hotel. 

“Karen brought over breakfast to say thanks for dinner last night,” Claire explains, handing one of the cups over to Zara. 

She takes a sip, and that’s when Claire decides to keep talking. 

“Oh, and she thinks we were having sex on the sofa.”

Zara chokes on her coffee, nearly spitting it out on the rug. 

“What? Why would she think that?” Zara sputters between coughs. 

“Well apparently I seemed annoyed, and I took too long to answer the door. And the sofa looks like that.” Claire gestures. 

Zara can admit that the crumpled blanket and the general disarray of the throw pillows paint a picture. 

“And you just let her think that?”

Claire nods, taking a bite out of a croissant. “I wasn’t about to tell her you slept out here alone, and flew into a panic when you heard her at the door.”

Zara points at her. “Hey, you were here when I fell asleep last night.”

Claire freezes ever so slightly before recovering. “It was a long day.”

To keep the conversation from continuing, she sets her breakfast on the table and starts picking up the pillows. 

Zara takes that as her cue, and escapes to the bathroom to pull herself together for the day. 

She’s halfway through her makeup routine when there’s a soft knock at the door, and she freezes with her mascara wand hovering in front of her face. “Yeah, boss?” 

Claire cracks the door open, waiting for Zara to wave her in, before she enters with her arms stretched out in front of her, an outfit in her hands. 

“I was thinking you could wear this today.”

Meeting her eyes in the mirror, Claire sees Zara’s confused expression and continues. 

“They’re my clothes. I know you already wore my sweater last night, but maybe we could make it look like our thing or something.”

She sets the outfit down on the counter next to Zara and pauses. Then, as if making a decision, she picks up her toothbrush and starts her own morning routine. Zara watches her out of the corner of her eye, before she turns back to finish her makeup.

They continue in comfortable silence, getting ready side by side like this is something they do everyday. 

Finally feeling put together, Zara grabs the outfit and heads into the bedroom. She starts changing slowly, before glancing in the mirror. 

The shirt is one she’s seen Claire wear dozens of times before. It’s soft and bordering on threadbare, with a small version of the park logo over the breast. Zara has the same shirt at home, and she remembers when they both got them at a very early retreat that the Operations team went on. 

The only difference is that where hers has Young sewn into the shoulder, this one has Dearing .

Instead of lingering, she pulls on the shorts. They’re a little longer on her than they would be on Claire, but she supposes that’s the point. Claire wants her sister to see them on Zara and know they actually belong to her. That Zara apparently belongs to her, too. 

A small, easily ignored part of her wants that to be true. She shoves the thought down as quickly as it arrives, turning to head out to the common area. 

She slips on a pair of sneakers by the front door, and doesn’t know if they’re hers or Claire’s. She figures that doesn’t matter at this point. 

“Where are we meeting them?” Zara calls out, knowing Claire will hear her. 

“By the lagoon for the Mosasaurus show.”

Claire enters the room, her hair straightened within an inch of its life, with absolutely no hints of the waves that Zara saw earlier. She tries not to miss them, and really tries not to hope she’ll see them again. 

Instead, she scrunches up her face at the mention of the first event of the day. 

“I know,” Claire says, acknowledging what Zara hasn’t actually said. She has never liked the Mosasaurus show. “But the boys really want to see it. Well, Gray does, at least. I’ll make sure you get a poncho.”

-------------------------------

Zara gets her wish after the show, with a slightly damp Claire standing next to her, her hair starting to frizz from the water as she ties her blouse around her waist, her purple tank top stretching across her chest at the motion. Zara looks away, staring into the distance until her eyes burn.

Their group comes back into focus when Claire tangles her fingers with Zara’s, a questioning look in her eyes that only Zara notices. 

Zara skates past it. “What’s next on the itinerary? Lunch?”

She leads Claire towards the restaurants, knowing that she’s right. Karen and the boys trail along behind them, too busy gushing about the show to pay any attention to them. Zara keeps holding Claire’s hand anyway. 

As they walk towards an open table, a familiar voice calls out their names, and they both realize they probably should’ve accounted for this. 

Sitting at a table at the patio are their coworkers and friends. Well, Owen Grady is there, and Zara will be six feet under before she calls him a friend. But Lowery and Vivian sit on either side of him, so they make their way over. 

Zara leans down to hug Vivian, before greeting Lowery and nodding at Owen. Claire gives the table a quick wave, and gestures at her family.

“This is my sister, Karen, and my nephews, Zach and Gray,” she starts. “They’re visiting for the week.”

Claire is standing stiffly next to Zara, her introduction coming out awkward. Zara steps closer until their shoulders graze, and takes over, looking at Karen and the boys.

“Lowery and Vivian work in the Control Room, and Owen is a Raptor Trainer.”

At that, Gray lights up, and Zach looks intrigued. Karen smiles.

“It’s so nice to meet you all. I’ve been so focused on meeting my sister’s girlfriend, I didn’t even think to ask about her friends.”

Vivian grins, glancing at Zara, while Owen freezes. Lowery just looks confused.

“It’s about time they put a label on it.” Vivian raises her drink slightly in Claire and Zara’s direction.

“Wait, Claire has a girlfriend?” Owen asks, his jaw practically on the floor.

“And it’s Zara?” Lowery adds, his voice coming out high-pitched and shocked.

Vivian turns to them both, frowning. “How did you both miss this? You’ve spent plenty of time around them together. Remember when they disappeared at my birthday party?”

“We were just in the photobooth!” Claire jumps in. Vivian raises an eyebrow, clearly not believing her.

“I mean, I guess this does explain a lot.” Owen says, shrugging. 

Zara has to fight to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

“You mean all the times you’ve asked my girlfriend out and she’s said no? I’m pretty sure she would’ve turned you down even if I wasn’t in the picture.”

Owen puts his hands up in a defensive gesture, and Karen and Vivian both look amused.

Claire reaches out to rest her hand on Zara’s hip, shooting her a look. “I appreciate you defending my honour on the Margaritaville patio. But maybe we should save this conversation for after lunch?”

“Of course, darling.” Zara says placatingly, resting her hand over Claire’s. Looking back at the table, her tone turns sharp again. “Owen, get us some extra chairs and move over.” 

Claire squeezes her hip gently. Zara leans into her, grumbling under her breath. “Make sure you’re not sitting next to him.” 

“Baby, I would never.” Claire murmurs back, her tone coming out soft, even as she looks moments away from laughing. 

Zara tries not to flush at the pet name and fails, pulling away to help Owen with the chairs. She does it mostly to distract herself, but partially to see if she can carry over more than he can. 

-------------------------------

After watching Zara snap at Owen throughout lunch, Claire gives a quick farewell to half of their group, and rushes the rest towards the Bamboo Forest for the afternoon.

“Well that was entertaining.” Karen comments as she catches up with her sister. 

Claire lets out a sigh, sounding entirely too weary. “Believe it or not, she actually used to get along with Owen. Then I went on one terrible date with him a few years ago, and now she can’t stand him.”

“Why are you so surprised by that?”

Claire falters, knowing she can’t tell her sister that she’s always found it odd that Zara, who isn’t actually her girlfriend, hates her one-time date so vocally. 

As if sensing her distress, Zara comes up behind Claire, resting her chin on her shoulder as they wait in the VIP line. “Are we talking about Owen?”

“No, we’re talking about you acting like a territorial asset,” Claire answers, reaching out to run her thumb down the length of Zara’s jaw. “Pull yourself together, Ms. Young.”

Zara faux-gasps and Claire smiles in response, leaving Karen to take a step towards the boys in their spot in line behind them. 

“I’ll just leave you two to do whatever this is.” She gestures between Claire and Zara, before disappearing from their line of sight. 

Zara glances up at Claire and tilts her head. “You okay, boss?”

Claire isn’t sure how to answer that. She’s felt unsettled all morning, but doesn’t know why. She doesn’t want to lie to Zara, but she doesn’t know how to tell her the truth, either.

She settles for a half-hearted shrug, jostling Zara slightly. “As good as I can be, all things considered.”

Zara narrows her eyes. “That’s not much of an answer.”

“Well it’s all you’re getting right now.” 

Zara lets out a scoff but doesn’t argue, pulling back just far enough to press a quick, comforting kiss to the edge of Claire’s mouth. Claire turns towards her to return it, and Zara fights to hide her surprise. 

Someone behind them clears their throat, and Zara steps away, gesturing for Claire to go first through the entrance once the line starts moving.

They take their time walking along the path through the forest, enjoying the warm breeze and the slow afternoon after a fast-paced few days. Claire and Zara entertain Gray’s list of facts about the dinosaurs they see along the way, and Zara offers to take Zach and Karen’s phones to get pictures of them.

After a certain point, Zara realizes that it doesn’t feel like they’re putting on a show. Instead, it feels like a normal day at the park, just with Claire’s family joining them.

When they reach the picnic area and settle in for snack break, she makes a point of pulling a bottle of sunscreen out of her bag, enjoying the way Claire makes a scene even with her family there to witness it.

“We’re in a forest. Don’t the trees protect us from the sun?” Claire grumbles from her spot at the picnic table. 

With each step Zara takes towards her, she leans back a little further, her shoulder blades digging into the edge of the table. When Zara reaches her, she puts her free hand behind Claire, her knuckles taking on most of the impact so Claire’s back doesn’t have to.

“She’s been like this since she was a kid,” Karen says without looking up from the sandwich she’s in the middle of unwrapping. “Good luck, Zara.”

On the sidelines, Zach looks amused, and Gray looks confused about what the big deal is.

As the first dollop of sunscreen streaks across her cheek, Claire looks up at Zara and scrunches her nose. Zara responds by dragging her fingertips down the space between Claire’s eyebrows towards the bridge of her nose, covering the crinkle with sunscreen.

When she’s finally free, Claire reaches into the bag next to her, pulling out the wrap she knows Zara set aside for herself and taking a theatrically large bite, never breaking eye contact.

Across the table, Karen shakes her head. “You’re setting a terrible example for your nephews, Claire.”

“Do better, boss.” Zara adds, false sincerity in her tone. 

Claire takes another bite before handing the rest to Zara, putting her hands out in a defeated gesture. “Two days into this and you’re all teaming up against me.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you asked me out.” Zara says. Claire raises an eyebrow at her phrasing.

“You’re the one who asked me out, Zara.” Claire gently reminds her of their backstory.

“And you’re the one who asked me to be your girlfriend.” Zara says, turning the tables on her with a bald-faced lie.

“She did?” Karen asks, tilting her head and sounding pleasantly surprised. 

Claire knows that’s why Zara is doing this. Like the sunscreen, this is something that ultimately helps Claire, and that is always going to be Zara’s priority. Getting on her nerves is just an added bonus. That doesn’t stop Claire from wanting to throttle her, though.

Zara nods emphatically. Next to her, Claire’s nod is more subdued as if she’s admitting defeat.

“How did she ask you?” Zach interrupts, sounding intrigued. He looks flustered when the table turns towards him, not expecting him to care enough to ask.

“I kept it fairly casual,” Claire says, trying to sidestep the question the best she can. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“She asked me when we were sitting on her sofa.” Zara jumps in to throw Claire under the bus, as if she hadn’t been the one to sit on Claire’s sofa and ask her to do this.

At Karen’s appalled gasp, Claire scrambles to try and save herself.

“She had been hinting at it for days, what else was I supposed to do?”

Zara shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know. You could’ve pulled some strings around the park with your big fancy title, and taken me somewhere romantic to ask.”

Karen murmurs in agreement, shooting a judgemental look at her sister. Claire somehow manages to look even more gobsmacked, with a blush crawling up her face.

Zara leans over to press a kiss to Claire’s warm cheek, looking entirely too doe-eyed for someone in the middle of torturing her. 

“But jokes aside, Claire asked me perfectly. All of our usual weekends at the suite had felt like they were leading to this, so it made sense for her to ask me the way she did.”

Karen coos at that, her judgement fading away, and Claire feels like she could put her head in her hands and sigh in relief. Instead, she kicks at Zara’s foot under the picnic table. 

Zara doesn’t look phased in the slightest, taking a bite out of her wrap and smiling at Claire with puffy cheeks. 

Claire returns it without thinking. As soon as she catches herself, she forces her features back into a frown, which just makes Zara smile harder.

-------------------------------

After the walk through the forest and back to her family’s hotel suite, Claire and Zara leave Karen to order room service and spend time with the boys, returning to Claire’s suite for their own night in. 

Claire collapses on the sofa, groaning briefly, before she reaches for her tablet and opens her work inbox. Zara glances over from the kitchen, sighing softly, before she starts making dinner.

“Red or white sauce for the pasta?” she calls across the suite.

Claire waves the question away, her eyes never leaving the screen. “Whatever you want.”

Zara hums, knowing that Claire prefers red sauce, and starts pulling out the ingredients that she put in the fridge last week. 

As the pasta boils, she watches Claire type out emails, and it’s so domestic that she feels it straight through her chest. 

Instead of distracting herself, she lets herself sit in the feeling, enjoying the ache a little bit.

-------------------------------

At the end of the day, Claire tosses and turns in bed, rolling closer to the cracked window in hopes that the breeze will help her fall asleep, her legs tangling up in the sheets. 

Just as she’s getting comfortable, her phone buzzes twice on the nightstand, and she mumbles under her breath before reaching for it.

Zara Young: Make this your lockscreen

Zara Young: [one attachment]

In the photo, Zara is sitting on Claire’s sofa in a tank top and a pair of thin shorts, her dark hair messy and falling around her shoulders. She’s tilting her head at the camera like Claire’s on the other side of the lens, looking smug.

Claire feels flushed suddenly, and figures it’s just because she isn’t used to seeing Zara like this. As if this is the first time she’s looked at Claire like that, dressed in sleepwear on her sofa.

Claire saves the picture and does as she’s told, but not before opening the camera to take her own photo to send back.

She knows Zara can hear her shuffling around in her bedroom, turning on the lamp on her nightstand and trying to get the right angle, and that makes her nervous. 

She settles for leaning over to one side and tugging on her shirt so her collarbone is visible, but the picture doesn’t turn out the way she wants it to. Neither do any of the pictures she takes afterwards.

Boss (Claire): Come in here

The message is barely sent before Claire’s bedroom door is opening, Zara poking her head through the entrance, looking confused.

“Was that too much?”

Claire sighs, tilting her head back against the pillows behind her. When she looks back up, Zara is staring firmly out the window at nothing.

“It wasn’t. I just can’t take a good picture to send back.”

Zara raises her eyebrows and pulls out her phone, climbing onto the end of the bed and resting back on her knees. 

“So you called me in here to do it for you? That’s really outside of my job description, boss.”

Claire frowns at her, pulling the comforter up around herself. “Don’t be cute, Zara.”

Zara grins. “I thought that’s what you were keeping me around for.”

“See, you saying stuff like that is why Vivian apparently thought we were having a torrid affair this entire time.”

“We were in that photobooth for a really long time.”

Claire kicks her foot out, nudging Zara’s thigh through the blankets. “Hurry up and take the photo.”

“So bossy,” Zara teases, edging closer. Her knees press into Claire’s calf, and she feels warm even with the sheets separating them.

“Sit up, Claire. The picture won’t be convincing if you’re bundled up and looking like this was taken under duress.”

Claire huffs before she lifts herself up against the pillows and pulls the blanket down, not realizing that her oversized sleep shirt has ridden up until the breeze from the window hits her bare stomach.

As she moves to pull it down, Zara clears her throat roughly, before reaching out to gently stop her, touching her fingertips to the pulse point on Claire’s wrist.

“Stay like that,” she says softly, lifting her phone up. “If that’s okay?”

Zara waits for Claire’s nod before she focuses on the screen, adjusting the angle slightly and taking the picture. The shutter sound of the camera fills the sudden silence of the room. 

She tilts the screen towards Claire, showing her the final result: Claire, in bed, with her shirt askew and her hair bunched up and sticking to her pillowcase, her pupils blown in the dim lighting of her bedroom. 

Claire doesn’t think that any of her exes have a photo of her like this, and now her assistant is setting it as her lockscreen.

As Zara clicks her phone off and drops it on the bed between them, they settle into an uncharacteristically awkward silence. Claire pulls the blanket back over herself and fidgets with her hands.

“You should stay in here for the night,” Claire says, her voice coming out too loud in the quiet room. “We don’t want a repeat of this morning if Karen decides to show up with bagels at 8am.”

Zara opens and closes her mouth, before settling into an easy smile. “If you wanted me in your bed, boss, all you had to do was ask.”

“This is me asking,” Claire says as she rolls her eyes and shifts onto her side, gesturing at the other half of the bed. “It’s too late at night for this. Just get in bed.”

Zara gives her a mock salute she pretends not to see, and eases herself into the free spot next to Claire as she leans over to turn off the light.

In the dark, Claire breaks the silence again. “Goodnight.”

Zara reaches out to press her hand just above Claire’s hip, and doesn’t pull away. “Goodnight, Claire.”

Chapter Text

Zara wakes up first and feels Claire’s head pressed between her shoulder blades, with her soft, sleepy breaths skating down Zara’s back. She doesn’t even consider getting out of bed yet, telling herself that it’s because she doesn’t want to wake Claire up. 

She tells herself that again and again, until she falls back asleep.

Later, Claire wakes up with her face crammed into the crook of Zara’s neck, her arm wrapped firmly around Zara’s midsection. She stares at her fingers twisted in the fabric of Zara’s tank top, processing what she’s looking at. She flexes her hand experimentally, and her knuckles end up wrapped in fabric that still feels warm from being pressed against Zara’s stomach. 

She pulls herself away and slides to the edge of the bed, reaching across the space to grab Zara’s shoulder from a distance. 

“Zara, wake up.”

“Hmm, Claire?” Zara murmurs. She moves her hand against the empty spot next to her, as if she’s expecting Claire to still be there. Claire looks away.

“You’re off the clock, so I’ll get our coffees,” Claire announces, trying not to scramble for the door. 

“You don’t know how to work the coffee machine.” Zara mumbles, her voice raspy.

“I’ll go to Starbucks.”

“You’re not wearing pants.”

“Your eyes are still closed, how do you know that?” Claire huffs, reaching into her dresser. 

A pair of leggings are halfway up her thighs when Zara sits up and looks at her. “Just give me five minutes, boss. What’s the rush?”

Claire tilts her head back and sighs, before she pulls the leggings up the rest of the way and collapses back onto the bed.

“Fine, but make it quick.”

Claire’s eyes are already slipping shut, and Zara knows she’ll be asleep before she’s even halfway out of bed, whether that’s in five minutes or twenty. She checks her watch and crawls out from under the covers with time to spare anyway.

-------------------------------

In the quiet kitchen, Zara flips her omelet on the stove and tries not to hum too loudly under her breath as she works, moving around Claire’s space like it’s second nature. Claire drinks her coffee slowly, watching Zara plate their breakfast, and listens to the park start to come alive through the open window.

“Are you in a better mood now, boss?” Zara breaks the silence, gently sliding a plate of avocado toast across the kitchen island towards Claire.

Claire nods and takes another sip of coffee, clearly not ready to start her day just yet.

“Want me to stop talking?”

Claire shakes her head, and Zara takes that as her cue to give Claire updates on her recent emails. She does it partially to keep Claire from checking her inbox this morning, but mostly because she knows that Claire wants to do the listening while Zara does the talking until they’re further into the day.

If her boss was sitting at her desk in something more business than casual, instead of at her kitchen island in her pyjamas, Zara would say that this feels like any regular morning for them.

There’s a brief moment where Claire blinks sleepily at her, and Zara feels a sharp flare of hope that this could become their new normal. She smothers the feeling as quickly as it arrives, and summarizes an email from the Genetics team about the new batch of herbivores instead.

Claire hums around a bite of her breakfast, and Zara knows that means she wants the email forwarded over to the associate handling the petting zoo. She focuses on the task with more intensity than it calls for, but it’s either that or start spiralling.

-------------------------------

At the first activity of the day, Claire sits in the Pachy Arena and tries to enjoy a show she’s seen dozens of times, glancing over at the boys to make sure they’re having a good time. Her phone is in Zara’s bag to keep her from checking it, and she swears she can feel the separation.

Reaching between their seats, she fiddles with the loose material of Zara’s park-issued cargo pants, flipping the side pocket open and closed. In response, Zara traces distracting patterns across her forearm, her nails dragging gently in what Claire eventually realizes are small Zs down her wrist. 

A Stygimoloch bumps against the barrier, and neither of them react, too focused on what’s happening underneath the armrest in between them. Claire can’t think of anything other than the feeling of Zara’s nails, and Zara can’t do anything but try to appear as nonchalant as possible.

When the show ends, Karen has to clear her throat and nudge Claire’s shoulder to get her to stand up. Claire awkwardly adjusts her sleeve and shuffles away from Zara, who just slips on her sunglasses and motions for the group to go ahead.

-------------------------------

Following Claire’s itinerary, the group ends up at one of the park’s food stalls for lunch. Zara, still trying to make a good impression, offers to place the orders while everyone else grabs a table off to the side.

She quickly finds herself regretting that when she’s waiting in the longest line she’s sure the park has ever seen, without Claire’s clearance to help her bypass the queue. 

Of course, that’s when a man also standing in the line decides to talk to her.

“All this for burgers and fries?” 

It takes Zara a moment to realize that he’s talking to her, and once she does, she just offers a stiff, polite smile in response. Instead of reading the room, he keeps going.

“What brings you to the park? Family trip?” 

Zara hums, not answering his question. He edges into her space, and Zara fights the urge to turn around and mouth ‘help me’ to Claire. 

“I’m here with my sister and her family. She said she’d cover my meals if I kept an eye on the kids, but I’m regretting it now.”

Staring straight ahead, Zara wonders if flat out ignoring him will fix this. With the way she can feel him looking her up and down, though, she doubts it.

When he opens his mouth again, Zara feels Claire’s arm loop around her waist, and she breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Hey you,” Claire says, squeezing her hip. “I thought you could use a hand carrying everything over.”

Zara has never wanted to kiss her more. She settles for leaning away from him and further into Claire’s grasp, not wanting to put on any sort of a display for the man currently gawking at them.

“Thank you, darling,” Zara says, and hopes Claire knows that she means it. “If we ever get through this queue, I’ll take you up on that.”

Claire smiles at her, but the look in her eyes borders on concern. Zara gives her a slight nod to let her know that she’s okay, but Claire either misinterprets it, or decides to barrel ahead in spite of it.

Looking directly at the man, her smile drops. “It’s been a long day, and I don’t think my girlfriend is really up for small talk with strangers.”

The man looks flustered, nodding quickly and turning around to face the front of the line, as if he was never there in the first place.

Next to her, Claire doesn’t look like she’s playing anything up for their audience on the sidelines. Instead, she looks like she’s completely Zara’s, and very annoyed that anybody else would think they could have a shot at her spot.

The feeling that floods Zara’s chest in response has her caving and pecking a kiss to Claire’s jawline, before pressing her mouth closer to her ear. “Seriously, Claire. Thanks for the assist.”

“Of course,” Claire murmurs, the grip on her waist tightening. Her thumb slips under the hem of Zara’s t-shirt, pressing an indent into her skin, and Zara desperately tries not to keel over in front of the line of tourists. 

-------------------------------

The next stop on their list is the botanical gardens.

Claire is in the middle of leaning down to smell a group of honeysuckles when she hears a camera shutter go off. Startling slightly, she turns around to find Zara with her phone in her hand.

“Is that going to be your lockscreen now?” 

“I mean, it’s a great picture,” Zara shrugs. “But it’s not this, is it?”

She holds up her phone and clicks the home button, and suddenly Claire is staring at the picture of herself from the night before. She flushes, and Zara lifts the screen higher, moving like she’s about to show it off to everyone else milling around the gardens.

“Zara, I swear to god,” Claire gasps, scrambling over to grab onto Zara’s wrist. She shoves the phone in between them, and almost pushes Zara into a bush of red tulips in the process. Her other hand shoots out before she realizes it, grabbing onto the front of Zara’s shirt and pulling her back. 

Zara ends up standing too close to her. Their chests are almost pressed flush together, and Claire’s chin bumps against Zara’s cheekbone as they settle.

“Easy, Claire,” Zara murmurs, and Claire can feel her breath against her neck. “I don’t think this is really the place to be tossing me around like that.”

Claire lets go and takes a step back, and Zara suddenly regrets saying anything. She clears her throat and glances around the gardens, trying to find literally anything else to use as a distraction.

A display of purple and blue violets stands out, and she gestures at it. “We should take some pictures together over there.” 

Claire shoots her a confused look, but starts walking in that direction anyway, leaving Zara to let out a relieved sigh and follow behind her. 

“What is it with you and pictures this week?” Claire asks over her shoulder. 

“Just trying to document the experience, boss. Maybe I’ll make a scrapbook for us to laugh about once this is all said and done.” Zara aims for levity, but the joke falls flat. 

She sees Claire’s shoulders stiffen ahead of her, and cringes internally as they approach the display. 

Leaning back, Claire focuses on her phone, fussing with the camera app to avoid looking at Zara. A nearby bellflower catches in her hair, and she shakes it out before Zara can try to help. 

The pause drags on, with Zara standing helplessly next to her, and Claire falters, offering her a life raft. “We’ll need extra copies for the fridge, obviously.” 

Zara glances around them, making sure Karen and the boys aren’t nearby.

“Oh, I’m not taking those ones home with me after this?”

“No, they were my birthday present,” Claire huffs.

“Your birthday is still months away.” 

“Semantics,” Claire says, waving away the comment, before posing for the camera. “Now focus, Zara.” 

Zara reaches out to adjust the angle, and they both smile. At the last second, Zara shifts, leaning up to kiss Claire’s cheek as she takes the picture.

“Well aren’t you guys adorable?” Karen chirps from the spot she seemingly just appeared in, and Zara fails to hold back a shocked yelp.

Claire chooses that moment to take another picture, and Zara groans. 

“Is that going on the fridge too?”

Claire just looks at her. “What do you think?”

Zara nods her head, sighing deeply. Claire bumps their shoulders together as she passes. “Now that’s something to laugh about, right?”

-------------------------------

Their final stop of the day is the petting zoo. With their VIP access, Gray and Zach entertain a pair of Stegosauruses, while Karen coos at a baby Gallimimus.

Across from the Mitchells, Zara runs her hand down an Apatosaurus’s neck, feeling the same sense of astonishment she felt when she first came here during her early days of working at the park. 

Next to her, Claire presses her forehead to a baby Triceratops’. The dinosaur lets out a soft grumble, and Claire looks over at Zara with a wide smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. 

Zara feels struck by how beautiful Claire looks like this, and a familiar feeling in her chest starts up. This time, though, she can’t seem to force herself to look away and focus on anything else nearby until it passes. 

Instead, her eyes flit over every bit of Claire she can take in. From her smile, to her soft green eyes, to her hands tracing gentle motions across the Triceratops’ baby face. 

Zara knows that this is what she wants her life to look like for the rest of it. Claire, sunkissed and happy and looking at her. Animals that shouldn’t exist alongside them, but do, bumbling around nearby. The murmur of park announcements acting as background noise, while her shirt sticks to her back from the Costa Rican heat.

It’s too much. Zara is pulling herself away before she realizes it, taking her phone out of her back pocket and gesturing at it. 

“I just remembered I have to make a call,” she addresses the group. She knows it’s a flimsy excuse, but she can’t be bothered to care right now, too focused on removing herself from this moment. 

Claire looks concerned from her spot on the ground, and Zara wishes she could reassure her. 

The baby Triceratops, realizing Claire’s attention isn’t on her, bumps her snout against Claire’s jaw. Zara spins around in place, heading towards the nearest door. 

“I’ll meet you all on Main Street after this,” she calls over her shoulder. 

Fumbling with her ID, Zara scans herself into the employees only section of the petting zoo and rushes into the first bathroom she sees, locking the door behind her. 

The second the lock clicks, she collapses against the counter next to the sink, porcelain digging into her ribcage. She rests her arms on the granite and bows her head, trying to force herself to breathe normally, but all she can manage are choked, shaky gasps.

She knows she’s running on borrowed time in here. She knows she needs to pull herself together and go back out to play the role that she signed herself up for.

Instead, she presses her hands against the countertop until it aches straight through to her wrists.

She sucks in air desperately, but it’s like she’s trying to breathe through a straw. She feels lightheaded, and she swears she can almost hear Claire’s loud, unreserved laugh from the main area over the rattling in her chest.

That’s when she finally gives in and sobs. It echoes in the small bathroom, and she sends up a silent prayer that nobody is in the hallway. 

“What am I going to do?” She asks the empty room. And then she repeats it, over and over, into her hands and eventually into the mirror at her puffy-eyed reflection, as if she’s actually going to get an answer. 

“I’m in love with her. What am I going to do?”

Chapter Text

Claire wakes up to an empty bed and a coffee waiting for her on the nightstand. She doesn’t need to leave her bedroom to know that the suite is also empty, she can tell by the oddly stifling silence that Zara isn’t here. 

Leaning back against the headboard, she draws in a slow, even breath.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine,” she repeats to herself, dragging her hands down her face.

Reaching over to pick up her phone, she scrolls through her emails while she sips on her coffee, and tries not to think about it. 

Later, in the shower with nothing but her thoughts, she can’t help herself. 

After the petting zoo, Zara was noticeably distant. Physically she was there, but it felt like her head was somewhere else entirely. Claire doesn’t think anybody else noticed, but she did. How could she not? 

Before, Zara was committed to the show they were putting on. Twenty-four hours ago, Claire would have said that Zara even seemed to be enjoying it. But after she showed up on Main Street, blaming a call from her sister about an issue with her fiancé’s bachelor party, it felt like she was just going through the motions.

She rested her hand on the small of Claire’s back, but it felt forced. She smiled at Claire, but couldn’t seem to hold eye contact. She opened the door to their building for her at the end of the night, but looked like she wanted to stay on the other side of it once Claire cleared the entrance.

Mostly, Claire can’t stop thinking about the look on Zara’s face when they turned in for bed. Like she wanted to be there, but also anywhere else, at the same time. 

As soon as Claire turned the light off, Zara rolled over and faced the wall, and it felt like there was a barrier between them. Eventually, Claire fell asleep to the sound of Zara tossing and turning in the strict space she’d apparently assigned herself. They had started the day slotted together in Claire’s bed, and somehow that was how they ended it.

She knows Zara couldn’t have gotten more than a few hours of sleep, yet she’s apparently already up and moving around the park before Claire. 

She would’ve had to set an alarm to get up and get ready before her, make Claire’s coffee, and leave the suite early enough that they wouldn’t cross paths. It bothers Claire more than she’d like to admit. 

-------------------------------

Boss (Claire): Where are you? We’re supposed to meet at the Underwater Observatory in ten minutes. 

Zara Young: I’ll be there 

Claire huffs at her phone before burying it in her bag, narrowly dodging a park visitor in the process. 

True to her word, Zara is waiting next to Karen when Claire arrives. 

“Three minutes late, boss,” Zara quips, glancing at her watch and raising an eyebrow.

Claire rolls her eyes, trying to make the gesture look friendly. With the way Zara hesitates before leaning in to greet her, she’s not sure she’s entirely successful. 

Karen glances between them, but doesn’t say anything. Claire reaches for Zara’s hand to try and keep it that way. 

Zara tugs her towards the entrance, and Claire can’t help but feel like she’s trying to speed run this to get through it. Her heel catches on the sidewalk, and Zara steadies her, looking embarrassed. 

“Sorry about that,” she murmurs under her breath. Claire waves it away, but glances at the side of Zara’s face as they walk, trying to see what she’s missing here. 

-------------------------------

Passing through the entrance to the observatory, the boys rush to the Mosasaurus section, leaving Karen to follow after them. With the rest of their group distracted, Zara drops Claire’s hand, fiddling with the strap of her bag instead. Claire’s now-free hand hangs at her side, and she shoves it roughly into the pocket of her blazer.

Guests filter in around them, laughing and talking, while Claire and Zara wander aimlessly through the observatory, silence stretching between them. Every time Claire opens her mouth to say something and then changes her mind, Zara pretends not to notice.

Standing next to an exhibit, Claire tries to catch Zara’s eye, but she’s apparently wholly invested in a Ceratodus floating by. She pushes ahead anyway.

“Are you alright?” Claire asks, wincing slightly when her voice echoes in the empty section they’ve found themselves in. 

“I’m fine, Claire,” Zara says, finally glancing over at her. She doesn’t look fine. “The call with my sister yesterday just threw me off, and then I slept poorly.”

Her words sound entirely too rehearsed. Claire weighs the pros and cons of confronting her in front of a group of prehistoric fish, and decides to let it slide, nodding like she believes her.

Zara looks relieved, and Claire doesn’t know what to do with that. 

-------------------------------

Outside of the observatory, Karen shoulders a bag from the gift shop, reaching out for the plush Mosasaurus slung under one of Gray’s arms.

“I’ll need to hang onto that this afternoon while you run around the water park with your brother.”

Zach scoffs. “We’re not going to be running around like kids.”

“I’m still a kid, I might be running around,” Gray retorts, handing over the plushie.

“It’s okay, Zach,” Zara says, taking on a placating tone. “We know you’ll be going down the water slide like a grown up.”

Karen hides a smile at that, while Zach huffs, already turning on his heel to head towards the path.

Pressing a hand to Gray’s shoulder, Karen leans down slightly to make eye contact with him. “Don’t worry about your brother, we’re going to have a fun afternoon. Now go catch up with him, and I’ll be right behind you.”

Gray nods, but reaches out to give Claire and Zara quick hugs before he leaves. “I wish you guys were coming with us.”

Claire touches the back of his head gently as his arms wrap around her waist. “We’re unfortunately not really water park people, and I have some work to take care of before I can spend more time with all of you.”

“But we’ll see you at dinner,” Zara adds, trying to soften the blow.

Gray perks up at that, before heading in the same direction as Zach.

“I hope you two make use of the free afternoon beyond just work,” Karen says pointedly, glancing between them.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take that,” Claire says stiltedly, waving her sister away. “Have fun with the boys.”

Karen puts her hands up, turning and walking towards her sons, leaving Claire and Zara standing with a notable distance between them.

“Are you heading to the office?” Zara asks, pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes. 

Claire nods. “You don’t have to join me. I’m just going to tie up a few loose ends that I can’t take care of over email.”

“Okay,” Zara says, already stepping back to head in the opposite direction. “I’ll see you at dinner, boss.”

She offers Claire a quick wave before she turns around fully, and Claire tries not to scrunch her face up in response. 

-------------------------------

At the restaurant for dinner, Claire sits facing the door, with her phone face-up on the table while they wait for Zara. Karen doesn’t seem to think anything of it, too focused on stopping the boys from bickering, but Claire feels like she’s failed at something anyway, shaking her leg restlessly under the table out of view.

Considering she spent her entire afternoon like this, anxiously checking her phone for any sign of life from Zara in the middle of what she should have actually been focusing on, she’s more than halfway to fed-up.

When she sees a familiar head of dark hair standing by the hostess, Claire excuses herself quickly, intercepting Zara at the entrance. 

Offering her a smile that she hopes isn’t too obviously strained, she leans in to greet her. As she presses the side of her face to the crown of Zara’s head in the beginnings of a hug, she realizes suddenly that Zara smells like margaritas and a perfume that isn’t hers. 

She freezes, but not before noticing that Zara is already stiff in her arms.

Claire takes all of two seconds to weigh her options before she’s leaning back and grabbing onto Zara’s forearm, pulling her down a hallway in the opposite direction of the table.

Opening the bathroom door with her heeled foot, she knows full well that there’s going to be a scratch in the leather of her shoe after this, but she can’t be bothered to care right now. She drags Zara in, locking the door behind her.

Spinning around to face her, Claire moves so quickly that the blunt ends of her bob catch on her cheek. “Where the hell were you this afternoon?”

“Jesus, boss,” Zara says, side-stepping the question and rubbing at her arm. 

Claire’s eyes flick down at the gesture, quickly assessing that she’s okay, before she continues. “Answer the question, Zara.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters because you smell like tequila and someone else’s perfume,” Claire forces out, her voice sounding rough. “Not a great look for my girlfriend.”

Zara winces, inhaling sharply. She’s looking everywhere but at Claire.

“So? Where were you?” Claire asks again, her tone closer to pleading this time. Zara chances a look at her, and the hurt in Claire’s eyes hits her square in the gut.

“I went out for a couple of drinks with Vivian,” Zara rushes to explain. “I just needed a breather.”

Claire feels relieved for a split second, the odd feeling of insecurity dissipating, before worry sets in. “A breather?”

“Just a break from all of this,” Zara says, waving her hands in between them. “It’s been a long few days, and I just needed to feel like myself again.”

Claire tries not to feel hurt by that, and tries even harder not to show it. “Well I hope you enjoyed your afternoon off. But Karen and the boys are waiting for us, so we should get back to the table.”

Zara catches herself before she lets out a sigh, not wanting to make this any worse. When she reaches to get the door, Claire makes a point of grabbing the handle first, pulling it open for herself.

-------------------------------

Zara sits across from Claire at the table like the past few minutes never happened, apologizing to the group for being late. Karen waves her off, smiling like she’s just happy that Zara’s there.

Making a point to stick with water throughout dinner, Zara plays her part like nothing is wrong. She’s the version of herself that she’s been all week, making jokes that their guests laugh at, telling stories that entertain the boys, and asking Karen questions to try and get to know her. 

The only difference is that she won’t look in Claire’s direction unless absolutely necessary, and she’s definitely avoiding any contact with her. 

Fidgeting in her seat, Claire decides to test her theory. Sliding her foot across the gap between them, she spares a quick glance under the table to make sure she’s headed towards Zara’s leg under the table, before bumping her calf with the toe of her shoe. 

Zara pulls away immediately, jerking back like she’s been burnt. She distracts the table with a question directed at Karen, who happily answers, and shifts her legs completely out of Claire’s range. 

When Zara’s attention is on Gray, Karen turns hers to her sister. 

“You’re being quiet tonight, Claire,” she murmurs gently. 

Claire shrugs. “It’s been a long day.”

Zara stiffens at that, but smooths over it quickly. Claire seethes.

She sits in her anger while the conversations around her continue, until she just can’t take it any longer. 

“I think I might have to call it an early night,” she cuts in, interrupting Zara mid-sentence. “I can feel a headache coming on.” 

Karen clicks her tongue sympathetically, reaching for her arm. Claire feels a wave of guilt and forces it back under the surface. 

Zara finally looks at her head-on, her brow furrowed in concern. “I’ll come with you.” 

“You should stay, I’ll see you at home,” Claire says, trying to sound normal. 

But Zara is already out of her chair and reaching for their bags. “What kind of girlfriend would I be if I did that?” 

Karen smiles at that, and Claire pushes her own chair back roughly, waving half-heartedly at her family. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Leading the way out of the restaurant, Claire can feel Zara hovering behind her. Her free hand hesitates at the small of Claire’s back, wavering there until she ultimately decides to pull away once they’re out of sight. 

Claire’s heels click on the path leading back to their building, and it’s the only sound either of them makes for the first few moments outside.  

“Are you okay?” Zara asks softly. 

“I don’t actually have a headache,” Claire says tersely. 

“I know. But are you okay?” 

Claire doesn’t answer. 

They fall back into a silence that follows them all the way up to Claire’s suite, until they’re standing in her entryway in dim lighting, with the majority of the hallway in between them.

“Did I do something wrong?” Claire asks, caving to the awkward silence. “Apart from everything back at the restaurant. You were being distant before that, so it must’ve been something I did earlier.”

Zara looks pained by the question, and Claire wishes she could take it back. 

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Claire,” Zara says, sounding firm, like this is something she needs Claire to know. Claire still isn’t sure if she believes her.

“Then why have you been acting like we’re strangers? Why did you suddenly need to run off for a break?” Claire pushes. “I might’ve expected something like this at the beginning of the week, but I thought things were good. I thought we were good.”

“We were,” Zara says, running her hands roughly through her hair. Realizing that she used the past tense, she fumbles slightly, clearly not knowing what to say next. Claire feels the sense of dread that she’s been carrying around all day continue to grow. 

“We are,” Zara corrects, trying to sound certain, but Claire can hear just how unsure she really is.

“Clearly,” Claire says, rolling her eyes. She takes a step backwards, and barely avoids bumping into the wall behind her, feeling trapped. She has never wanted to get as far away from Zara as possible, and it doesn’t sit well with her.

“It’s the stress of this whole situation,” Zara says, her tone desperate like she needs Claire to just accept this at face value. 

Claire doesn’t know how many different ways she can ask ‘Why now? What happened between yesterday and today that made you hate this so much?’ before she gets a real answer out of Zara. So she stops trying. 

Faltering at the lack of a response, Zara tries a different approach. “Let’s just focus on getting through Christmas. That’s why we’re doing this, right?” 

She sounds as tired as Claire feels. Sliding her heels off, Claire gives up and leans back against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself before looking at Zara.

“Did we speed run this relationship and now we’re acting like a married couple on the rocks?” 

Claire doesn’t know if she’s trying to lighten the mood or state the obvious, but it falls flat regardless, with Zara flinching just slightly enough that she notices.

“This isn’t a relationship, Claire.” 

Claire knows she’s right, but she doesn’t know why it hurts so much to hear. The clock on the wall next to her ticks, and she fidgets with the sleeves of the coat she still hasn’t taken off. 

“I think you should stay at your own place tonight.”

Zara nods sharply at the dismissal, stepping even further away from Claire and towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.”

-------------------------------

Claire tosses and turns in bed, and finds herself with her face halfway shoved into the pillow that Zara’s been sleeping on. Instead of helping her fall asleep, it just makes her want to reach for her phone and ask Zara to come back. 

She rolls onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, and tries the breathing exercises that Zara talked her into using before big presentations. Eventually, her heart rate slows, and her eyes slip shut. Halfway to sleep, she makes a mental note to thank Zara once she stops being such an asshole. 

Two floors down, Zara is pacing her living room, talking herself down from another spiral.

She has always known she was attracted to Claire. It’s something that’s always been in the back of her mind from her interview and throughout their years of friendship. 

It was fun at first, having a crush on her boss. And as they became friends, she pushed it away, trying to focus on the platonic relationship they were building. 

There have been moments when it’s crept out of its secure box in the back of her mind, sure.  When Claire dressed up for her failed date with Owen and asked for Zara’s opinion on her dress. Whenever Claire got wine drunk on their Saturday nights in, sitting too close and breathing pinot grigio down the side of her neck, laughing at everything Zara said, her eyes both unfocused and entirely too focused on Zara’s face. 

The point is, those were minor slip ups, and she had it together. Her entire career has been about keeping things organized and under control. Her entire career has been about Claire. She knew what she was doing. 

That’s why she suggested this entire ruse in the first place. Apart from wanting to do whatever was necessary to help Claire, she thought she was fully capable of keeping her own feelings in check. 

And now here she is, doing laps around her living room, wanting more than anything to go back upstairs to Claire. 

She knows her behaviour today has been so far from okay. If anything, she should go upstairs if only to apologize to Claire. It isn’t fair to her for Zara to suddenly pull away like she has, and then lie and redirect when she calls her on it. But she also knows why she’s been distancing herself, and that isn’t something she can explain to Claire.

Zara breathes in and out, mimicking something she learned in a yoga class she took years ago and eventually taught Claire. She wipes her face, squares her shoulders, and forces the thoughts threatening to bring her to knees back into their appropriate boxes. 

She can do this. She has to do this, or she’ll lose everything - her job, her life on the island, Claire. 

She can play the role of somebody who’s in love with Claire, because she is. Then, in a few days, they can get back to their normal routine, and this will eventually fade. 

Even though this feels like something that’s going to linger for the rest of her life, Zara doesn’t let herself think about that right now.

Chapter Text

Claire wakes up to an eerily silent suite for the second day in a row and immediately pulls herself out of bed to find something to distract herself with. 

Even though this used to be how she woke up every morning, apart from the weekends where Zara would stay over on the sofa, it feels discomforting now.

After a quick shower, she bypasses her own clothes and pulls on one of Zara’s sweaters, fighting an urge to press her nose to the collar.

She makes her own coffee and grimaces when she takes a sip, reaching for her phone without thinking to text Zara to stop by the cafe before she comes over. Staring at their text thread, she closes out of it with a heavy feeling in her chest. 

Pacing in front of the window, Claire tries to think of what to do with herself that doesn’t involve calling Zara or staying in the suite with nothing but her thoughts. 

Even with her family on the island, that isn’t an option, with Karen mentioning that she was going to have a lazy morning with the boys before their afternoon plans. Besides, showing up without Zara would just raise more questions from her sister than she would like to answer.

Her phone buzzes on the coffee table, and Claire scrambles to grab it, knowing there’s really only one person it could be.

When the name Owen Grady is the one staring up at her, she balks at her phone.

Owen Grady: hey claire, do you want to go to the golf course this morning?

Owen Grady: not as a date. tell zara i said that.

Owen Grady: i have a tee time reserved for 10am, but barry cancelled at the last minute

Owen Grady: oh and zara is invited too 

Claire snorts as the messages come in. Clearly Owen got the less than subtle hints from Zara the other day that Claire is off limits. 

She hesitates before answering. With how they left things the night before, she definitely can’t invite Zara. And even if she did, she knows there’s no chance Zara would spend her free time with Owen, unless the rest of their group is there, too.

The fridge hums in the silence of the suite, and Claire texts back before she has the chance to spiral any further.

Claire: I’ll meet you there

Owen Grady: don’t be late 

Claire: 🙄

-------------------------------

On the golf course, Claire‘s phone buzzes with an email notification, and she pulls it out to discreetly check it. 

She’s not discreet enough, apparently, with the way Owen glances at her lockscreen and raises an eyebrow. 

“How’s your girl, by the way?”

Claire waves the question off, feeling oddly flushed at the phrasing of it. “She’s fine.”

“In that picture? Yeah she is.”

Claire fixes him with a glare. Owen sidesteps it. 

“So things are going alright with you two?”

“Is that why you asked me out here?”

Owen falters, looking uncomfortable. He looks away from her and down at his feet, scuffing his shoe against the grass.

“Well, in a way,” he answers, suddenly hesitant. “Mostly I just wanted to apologize. I thought our whole routine of me asking you out again, and you turning me down, was just our thing.”

Claire’s features twist without her realizing it. She tries to fix her expression before he notices, but doesn’t quite manage it.

“Obviously it wasn’t,” Owen rushes to explain. “Which is why I’m sorry that I was so persistent. And I’m not just saying that because Zara’s in the picture, but your relationship did make me realize that you’ve had something with her, and not with me.”

Owen looks up at her, and it’s Claire’s turn to look away. She fidgets with the golf club in her hand, watching it make divots in the turf next to her. She’s going to have to make a call to maintenance after she and Owen are done here, since she can’t ask Zara to. 

“Thank you,” she says, her voice coming out stiff. “I accept your apology.”

Owen nods awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his head. “So, really, how’s Zara?”

Claire lets out a sigh at that. “Honestly? I have no idea. I thought things were great, but then it was like she flipped a switch, and just started acting like a completely different person.”

Normally she wouldn’t be this honest with Owen of all people, but she needs to vent to someone. Her sister is off limits, considering the point of this entire ruse was to sell her on their supposed relationship. And Zara has clearly already called dibs on Vivian, who has always been close with Lowery. So that leaves Claire with Owen.

“Did anything happen?” Owen asks, seeming genuinely curious.

“I don’t think so?” Claire answers, sounding unsure. “If anything did happen, it wasn’t anything that I noticed.”

Owen raises his eyebrows at that, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he reaches into the cooler on the back of their golf cart for a drink. He offers one to Claire first, and she shakes her head, not wanting to feel like a hypocrite when she sees Zara after this. 

“Look, from what I know about Zara, she would be straightforward with you. If she’s not telling you what’s wrong, then there’s probably a reason for it,” Owen says, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “Just give her time, Claire. I know you’re about planning and solutions, but if she’s not ready to talk about it, wait until she is.”

Claire tries not to show how much his advice bothers her. Because he’s right, she’s used to finding problems and figuring out the best course of action to fix them. That’s how she’s gotten to this point in her career. She doesn’t like the realization that maybe that doesn’t apply to her personal relationships when it’s what feels most comfortable to her. 

“Thanks, Owen,” Claire says, actually meaning it. “Now hit the ball so I can go see my girlfriend.”

-------------------------------

Walking into her favourite coffee shop on the island, Claire is greeted with a familiar bell ringing above the door, and an equally familiar barista. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Dearing,” the barista, Cat, greets her, already reaching for two cups. “The usual?”

“Plus an extra coffee,” Claire answers, leaning against the counter to wait for the order. She tries to enjoy the Christmas ambience in the cafe, but all it does is remind her of the problems she’s been trying to ignore all morning.

“It feels like I haven’t seen you or your girlfriend at all this week,” Cat says, making small talk as she works. 

Claire pauses, but doesn’t correct her. Cat mentioning Zara, or the lack thereof, makes Claire realize just how rarely she comes in here, or goes really anywhere on the island, without her. It explains why Claire has been walking around all day feeling like she’s missing a limb.

“My sister and nephews have been here for the holidays, so we haven’t had much free time,” Claire explains. 

Cat nods at that, handing over the tray of drinks with a smile. Claire trades her for a bill, waving away the change. 

“Happy holidays, Ms. Dearing,” Cat calls across the counter. “I’ll see you next week.”

“I’ll make sure to bring Zara next time,” Claire responds over her shoulder, trying to sound confident.

-------------------------------

Even though Claire expects it, the distance between her and Zara in front of the Cretaceous Cruise still stings. 

She half-considers joining her sister in a two-person kayak, but knows how it would look. Instead, she joins Zach in the line for the single kayaks, and tries not to eavesdrop on Zara explaining to Karen that that’s just their preference, as if they’ve ever done the Cretaceous Cruise in all their years on the island.

Their line moves quicker than the other one does, and they end up at the launch point before Karen and Gray have their kayak. Karen makes Zach wait for them, giving Claire and Zara a wave to start without them. 

A part of Claire is grateful, even though she shouldn’t be, knowing that the wall between her and Zara is going to be even more obvious on a quiet trek down the river.

As predicted, the awkward silence between them lingers after the night before, and neither of them knows what to do about it. Claire can only ask what’s wrong so many times, and Zara doesn’t know how many more redirects and half-truths she has left before she cracks. 

Claire decides to escape the situation by paddling ahead, even if her kayak wobbles a bit as she does. 

Zara keeps an eye on her, knowing that it’s second nature. She’s never been able to focus on anything else, and not even a beautiful scenery or animals that the planet tried to move on from but that they brought back, can keep her from that. 

Claire, on the other hand, watches a Stegosaurus dip its nose in the water, and tries not to sigh at the sunlight slipping past the leaves above her in a way that almost makes her forget about the past day and a half. 

Distracted in a way that she usually isn’t, and uncoordinated in a way that she usually is, Claire doesn’t realize that her paddle is caught until it’s too late. 

Her kayak overcorrects, and the front of it slams into a rock at the edge of the river. Her paddle stays behind, tangled up in the undergrowth that started this. 

Reaching both hands out towards nothing, Claire lets out a sharp, startled gasp. 

Zara reacts at the same time, pushing her own kayak towards Claire. 

“You’re okay,” she says gently, mostly in response to the shocked look on Claire’s face. She touches Claire’s arm, partially to reassure herself that she’s telling the truth.

Claire rests her hand on top of Zara’s, squeezing it slightly before she nods. “Thanks.” 

“I’m sticking with you the rest of the way, though,” Zara adds, glancing at Claire to make sure that she’s steady, before she lets go to get her paddle from its spot in the middle of the river. 

She hands it back to Claire, reaching out to redirect her kayak to help her get back on track, drifting along beside her.

There’s still a silence between them, interrupted occasionally by the sounds of their paddles dipping into the water and the herbivores dotting the riverbed, but it’s less stifling now. 

An Apatosaurus forces them to a stop mid-way, and Zara nudges Claire like she’s about to miss it, just because she knows they’re her favourite. 

When they eventually reach the shore, Zara pushes ahead to pull herself out of the water first, leaving her kayak haphazardly docked, before she reaches out to help Claire. 

She grabs Claire’s bicep with one hand, and wraps the other around her waist, gently guiding her out of her kayak and up the stairs. Claire lets her, leaning into her grasp. 

“Careful,” Zara murmurs when Claire slips on the last step, Zara’s grip tightening slightly. 

Standing on the edge of the dock, Claire’s hair frizzes around her face, catching on the edge of her jaw. The sun shines through the trees, making her eyes look especially green. 

Zara squeezes her hands together so she doesn’t reach out for her. Instead, she tips her head towards a free spot off to the side where they can wait for the rest of their group. 

“After you, boss,” Zara says, clearing her throat when her voice comes out strained.

Claire doesn’t comment on it, heading towards the empty spot ahead of Zara. 

The awkward silence from earlier returns as they sit down. Zara draws in a slow breath, gathering her nerves, and breaks it.

“Claire?” she starts, her voice rough. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Claire nods, like that’s all she had to say. But Zara keeps going, needing Claire to know at least something resembling the truth.

“I was scared and overwhelmed, and I was acting like an asshole because of it. You didn’t deserve that.”

She looks at Claire with watery eyes, and Claire’s heart turns over in her chest. She looks back at Zara for a long moment, clasping her hands together to keep her own eyes from tearing up.

“You were,” Claire says finally, bumping her shoulder gently against Zara’s. She unclenches her hands, reaching for one of Zara’s and pulling it into her own lap to intertwine their fingers. “But I’m sorry, too. I was pushy, and that’s not something I want to be with you. I should have been more patient.”

Zara squeezes her hand in response. “So to summarize, neither of us were in great form, and now we’re both sorry for it.”

Claire lets out a sigh of relief at the light tone that Zara’s voice has taken on. It keeps Claire from pressing, from asking what Zara was so afraid of. Instead, she rests her head on Zara’s shoulder.

“That sounds about right.”

Zara nudges at Claire gently until she lifts her head to look up at her. She vaguely registers that they’re too close together, but she doesn’t move away.

“You’re my best friend,” Zara says, like it explains anything. Her eyes trace over Claire’s face as she says it, as if she doesn’t already have every feature memorized.

“You’re mine,” Claire says with a firm nod. Zara smiles, looking entirely too charmed by Claire’s seriousness. 

Claire leans her head back down, her nose grazing the soft underside of Zara’s jaw. Zara lets out a sigh that almost muffles the sound of footsteps coming up behind them. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Karen starts, sounding genuinely apologetic. “But the boys are getting antsy to head out.”

Zara wonders how long they’ve been standing on the dock, waiting for them to wrap this up.

She pulls herself away from Claire, but keeps their hands interlocked, standing and bringing Claire up with her.

-------------------------------

After the Cretaceous Cruise, Claire leads the group through a shortcut to the gyrosphere, using her park knowledge to bypass most of the crowds. 

She makes a stop for a t-rex hat for Gray, though, watching the way Zara smiles as Karen tries to help him fit it over his curls. 

When they reach the gyrosphere, the boys get into a pod first, and Claire and Zara ready to climb into the next one. Karen insists she’s fine to stand on the sidelines with everyone’s bags, blanching when Zara offers to let her go with Claire instead. 

After seeing the boys off safely, Zara makes a show of waving Claire into their pod first. Claire rolls her eyes, but squeezes her arm on her way in. The ride attendant waits patiently, knowing full well he can’t rush the Operations Manager of all people, even with a line of guests staring him down. 

When her door closes, Zara turns to Claire, who’s already taken over the controls. 

“Why do you get to drive?”

“I helped develop the ride,” Claire answers, directing the pod away from the station and towards the clearing. 

Zara double checks her seatbelt, shrugging when Claire glances over at her. “I’ve seen how you drive the Benz.” 

Claire manages to get them across the clearing without issue, stopping the gyrosphere at a spot near an edge where they can lean into a quiet moment, mingling with the Triceratops and overlooking their park. 

“This would be nice at sunrise,” Claire comments. 

Zara raises an eyebrow at her. “You would want to get up before sunrise?” 

Claire pauses. “It would be nice in theory.”

Zara laughs at that, loud and unreserved. Tucking her hair behind her ears, Zara turns to look at Claire, her smile wide and sure.

It’s such a small moment, it shouldn’t even register as anything. But out of everything, it’s what hits her square in the chest. With her life’s work staring back at her when all she can focus on is Zara, that’s what does her in, and it dawns on Claire then: she wants this to be real. 

She doesn’t want things to go back to how they were before they started this. She wants to leave work with Zara and go back to the same suite every evening. She wants to reach out for Zara and know that she’ll be there. She wants Zara’s belongings to keep littering her apartment, and their photos to stay on the fridge, with more of each being added until her home, and her life, are so full of Zara that she can’t imagine either without her.

This has an expiration date, but she wishes that it didn’t.

Her hand slips off of the ride controls, jerking the gyrosphere abruptly to the left. 

“Christ, Claire,” Zara gasps, grabbing onto her leg. It takes everything in Claire not to slam on the brakes. 

“Are you positive you can get us out of here in one piece?” Zara asks, apparently unaware of the life changing realization that Claire is in the middle of.

Claire nods firmly, adjusting her grip on the controls. It doesn’t help in the slightest, with the gyrosphere jostling as she drives back towards the starting point.

Zara tilts her head back against the headrest, covering her face with her hands.

“At least wait until after you break up with me before you drive me off of a cliff, Claire.” 

Claire narrowly avoids a Sinoceratops at the mention of a breakup, and Zara lets out a groan beneath her hands.

Parking the gyrosphere back near the entrance, Claire fumbles with the latch, practically throwing herself out of the door once it’s open. She sucks in a panicked breath of fresh air, slamming her eyes shut, and feels like her knees are about to give out.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Zara murmurs, pressing a hand to her back. 

Claire realizes that, even with her eyes closed, she knew the moment Zara turned the corner of the gyrosphere and entered her space, and it has her drawing in another shaky gulp of air.

“I’m sorry,” she huffs out. 

Zara frowns. “It’s okay, Claire. You just got a little claustrophobic, it’s normal.”

Claire doesn’t know how to tell her that that’s not what she’s sorry for. So she doesn’t say anything, letting Zara guide her to the main pathway, instead.

“Are you alright?” Karen asks from her spot off to the side, the boys standing next to her.

Claire nods, waving her off. 

“You look sick, Aunt Claire,” Gray says, sounding concerned. Zach offers her a bottle of water, and Claire takes it to give herself something to do with her hands.

Zara keeps tracing soothing patterns across her back, and shares a glance with Karen.

“I’m going to take her home.”

“Of course,” Karen says, reaching out to gently squeeze both of their arms. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Gray gives his aunt a quick hug goodbye, and Zach pats her on the shoulder as he passes by. Claire barely registers any of it, focused entirely on the feeling of Zara’s hand wrapping around her hip, leading her towards their building.

-------------------------------

After repeatedly assuring Zara that she’s fine, just embarrassed, Claire sits in the living room, watching the park advertisements on loop, waiting for Zara to come back from whatever errand she’s running. She hates that she loves how domestic it all feels.

The door unlocks, pulling Claire away from reflecting on every other oddly domestic moment they’ve had recently, as Zara lets herself into the suite, her arms full of their usual takeaway. She kicks a box in ahead of her, and Claire feels dizzy with deja vu. 

“I’m still not moving in,” Zara announces. “But we’re in the final hour to wrap Christmas gifts for your family, so guess what’s on the itinerary for tonight.”

Claire groans at that, falling back onto the sofa. Zara stares down at her, before gently placing wrapping supplies onto her stomach and walking away.

“As my assistant,” Claire says, pausing for a split second. “And my best friend, can’t you do me a favour and handle this one?”

“You can’t use that against me,” Zara calls from the kitchen, her voice sounding muffled with her head halfway into the fridge, presumably looking for a bottle of wine to make this easier on Claire. “That was a very vulnerable moment for me.”

Claire huffs out a laugh at that, leaning back further to the sofa and closing her eyes. She only opens them again when she feels Zara picking up the supplies strewn across her, and is greeted with a pointed look. 

“Time to get to work, boss,” Zara says, gesturing at the box of unwrapped gifts next to her foot. 

When Claire still doesn’t move, she also points out the glass of wine and plate of food waiting on the coffee table, placed a suspiciously far distance away from her.

Claire reaches a hand out, and Zara grabs it, pulling her up into a seated position. The tape dispenser in her arm clatters to the floor, and Claire tries not to stare when she leans down to pick it up. She fails miserably.

Busying herself with her glass of wine, Claire glances at the box of gifts. “Did you get everything on the list?”

Zara sinks down onto the sofa next to her, kicking her foot out to drag the coffee table closer, placing the wrapping paper and scissors down directly in front of Claire.

“What kind of assistant would I be if I hadn’t?” 

“An unemployed one,” Claire says bluntly.

“Obviously. Not to mention I’d be down a girlfriend, too.” 

Claire feels a sudden rush low in her stomach at Zara’s phrasing. Before this afternoon, she probably would have brushed it off as some unplaceable feeling. But now she knows what it really is: a reaction to Zara calling Claire her girlfriend. She hopes she doesn’t look flushed.

Unfurling the roll of wrapping paper, Claire tries to sound nonchalant. “Well you still have one for now. So hand me a gift from the pile.”

Zara reaches for one immediately, passing over a stuffed Brachiosaurus for Gray. 

“Was that prompt enough? Or should I pack my bags?”

Claire hums, and knows that she definitely looks flushed now. She puts all of her energy into the task in front of her instead of looking over at Zara.

“You’re terrible at this,” Zara comments, before handing her the tape.

“Very helpful, Zara,” Claire says with a frown, trying to ignore the jagged lines in the wrapping paper. The Brachiosaurus’s head peeks out at them, and Claire thinks he’s judging her work, too. 

“I hope you’re not putting my name on that one.”

“I am now,” Claire says, her tone leaving no room for argument. She wraps a bow around the suspiciously Sauropod-shaped gift, and Zara hands her the pen without further comment.

They work through the rest of the gifts in a rhythm that feels similar to their work in the office, until they end up with a box full of wrapped presents, an empty bottle of wine, a picked-over plate of sushi, and Claire’s head in Zara’s lap. 

Christmas music from a playlist that Zara put together earlier in the week acts as background noise as she cards her fingers through Claire’s hair in a mindless pattern. 

Claire presses her cheek against Zara’s thigh, and tries not to overthink the way she tenses, the muscle of her leg pushing up into Claire’s jaw, when Claire lets out a pleased hum. 

“Ready for bed?” Zara says, her hand pausing at the base of Claire’s neck. When Claire doesn’t respond, already half-asleep, she scratches gently at the baby hairs there. 

“You can’t fall asleep out here again, boss. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

Claire forces herself to sit up, blinking sleepily at Zara. 

“You’re always keeping me on track,” she says, her voice coming out in a mumble. She reaches out to touch Zara’s arm, dragging her nails lightly from her wrist to her elbow. A line of goosebumps follow, and she soothes them with her thumb. “Always taking care of me.” 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Zara says, an odd look on her face. Claire’s too tired to think about what it might mean. Instead, she lets Zara lead her to bed. 

-------------------------------

Claire wakes up with a jolt to a dark room, the clock on her nightstand letting her know that it’s 3:00am. Zara’s arm is wrapped firmly around her waist, and one of her legs is slung over one of Claire’s.

Gently touching her fingertips to Zara’s wrist, the feeling of her steady heartbeat is comforting, but it doesn’t help Claire shut her brain off.

She knows without a doubt that her line of thought in the gyrosphere wasn’t a one-off. This is what she wants every night to look like, but she doesn’t know what to do about that.

Back at the beginning of all of this, she told Zara that she loves her life as it is, and that she would be open to a relationship if it fit into what she already has. That is still true. But now, she thinks (knows) that Zara is the person who fits into this. Really, she’s the person who has always fit into this. It’s just taken the past week for Claire to realize that.

Zara grumbles in her sleep, edging closer to press her face against the space between Claire’s shoulder and neck, making a snuffling sound that vibrates down Claire’s chest. 

Claire presses her temple to the crown of Zara’s head, relishing in the feeling. It should feel different, now that she knows where she stands, but it doesn’t. It feels the exact same as it would have a week ago, six months ago, a year ago. Instead of scaring her, it just makes Claire wonder how she could have missed this for so long. 

Claire’s eyes well up suddenly, and she shifts slightly to press a soft kiss to Zara’s hairline.

“I’m sorry I’m going to make such a mess of this,” Claire murmurs in the quiet of her bedroom.

Zara frowns in her sleep, but doesn’t wake up. Claire turns to stare up at the ceiling fan, and falls back asleep with the weight of Zara and her own feelings on her chest.