Chapter Text
The Operations Tower never really slept.
Even late in the afternoon, phones rang across the control center, holographic displays rotated above glass tables, and employees hurried through the upper floors with tablets clutched against their chests. Through the massive windows, Isla Nublar stretched endlessly green beneath the fading sun.
Steve Harrington leaned back in his chair outside the conference room, tapping his fingers against the armrest while watching a pair of technicians argue quietly near the elevators.
He hated meetings.
Especially Claire’s meetings.
Because when Claire Dearing requested someone personally, it usually meant one of two things:
- a problem,
- or responsibility.
Sometimes both.
The conference room doors slid open.
“Steve.”
Claire barely looked up from the tablet in her hands as she walked back inside.
He sighed dramatically before standing. “You know, one day I’m gonna start charging consultation fees.”
“You already expense enough food through guest services.”
“That was one time.”
“Three times.”
Steve grinned despite himself and followed her into the room.
Inside, Zara Young sat at the far end of the table surrounded by color-coded schedules, park maps, and what looked like at least four different tablets open at once. She looked exhausted.
“Please tell me this meeting is short,” Zara muttered without looking up. “I’m coordinating six itineraries, two investor dinners, and a wedding proposal package.”
“You forgot the aquarium delay,” Claire said.
Zara closed her eyes briefly. “Right. The aquarium delay.”
Steve slid into a chair. “Wow. You guys really know how to sell the dream around here.”
Claire ignored that.
“My nephews arrive tomorrow morning,” she said, finally looking directly at him. “Zach and Gray Mitchell.”
Steve nodded slowly. He vaguely remembered hearing about them visiting.
“I’ll be occupied most of the weekend,” Claire continued. “Zara will oversee their schedule and accommodations, but I’d like you assisting.”
Steve blinked.
“Assisting?”
“Yes.”
“With your nephews?”
“With keeping them entertained, supervised, and out of restricted areas.”
Steve leaned back. “Claire, when have I ever gone into restricted areas?”
Both women stared at him.
“…Okay, that felt unfairly targeted.”
Zara snorted quietly behind her tablet.
Claire finally set the tablet down. “You know the park better than most employees. You’re good with guests, the boys are close to your age, and frankly…” she paused, choosing her words carefully, “they’ll probably listen to you more than another scheduled activity.”
Steve raised an eyebrow at that.
“So I’m what? The cool tour guide?”
“You’re additional supervision.”
“That sounds significantly less cool.”
“You’ll be compensated.”
That caught his attention.
“How compensated?”
Zara finally looked up. “Extra park access, hazard bonus eligibility if they leave designated sectors, meal coverage, and actual money.”
Steve sat up straighter immediately.
“Okay, now we’re speaking my language.”
Claire continued before he could joke further.
“This is important, Steve.”
And there it was.
The serious tone.
The room quieted slightly beneath the distant hum of the tower.
Steve’s expression softened a little. “Yeah. Okay.”
Claire gave a small nod, clearly satisfied.
“Good. Zara will send you the itinerary tonight. Do not alter it.”
Steve looked offended. “I’m hurt you even had to say that.”
“You once rerouted a VIP botanical tour to see the gyrosphere testing track.”
“They loved it.”
“One of them vomited.”
“In fairness, that happened after the sharp turn.”
Zara laughed under her breath while Claire pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Meeting over,” Claire said flatly.
Steve stood, hands in his pockets as Zara immediately returned to her schedules.
“Try not to scare the kids,” Zara said absently.
“No promises.”
Claire stopped him before he reached the door.
“Steve. A moment.”
He paused.
The doors slid shut behind Zara as Claire stepped closer, lowering her voice slightly.
For a second, she looked less like Operations Manager Claire Dearing and more like the woman who used to catch twelve-year-old Steve sneaking through laboratory corridors at midnight.
“You don’t have to treat this like an assignment,” she said.
Steve frowned faintly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Claire crossed her arms lightly. “You spend most of your time with adults. Security teams. Handlers. Executives.”
“That sounds dangerously close to concern.”
“I’m serious.”
He looked away awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Claire studied him for a moment before continuing.
“Zach is seventeen. Gray’s younger, but enthusiastic. It might be good for you to spend time with people your own age for once.”
Steve gave a quiet laugh. “Pretty sure normal teenagers don’t grow up around velociraptors.”
“No,” Claire admitted. “You didn’t.”
Something in her voice made the joke fade.
Then she added, calmer now:
“And I trust you with them.”
Steve stilled slightly.
Not because the words were dramatic.
Because people in the park usually trusted the Harrington name.
Not him.
Claire picked her tablet back up. “Don’t make me regret it.”
The moment broke instantly.
Steve smirked again. “There she is.”
Claire pointed toward the door without looking up. “Out.”
He grinned and headed for the exit, but as the doors slid open toward the glowing corridors of Jurassic World, the thought stayed with him longer than he expected.
I trust you with them.