Work Text:
Ellie Sattler:
Did you think you could speak at Georgetown without me finding out?
Alan Grant:
It’s just a seminar—one speech, a few questions. I’ll be on a flight while you’re still teaching.
Ellie Sattler:
Send me your flight details.
Alan hadn’t been shocked to receive an email providing a time and directions to a “proper” coffee shop in downtown D.C. Once Ellie set her mind onto a task, she didn’t stop. A trait that he could admire on most days. His flight was a red eye that would put him in the DMV area at 9 a.m, but he had planned to waste time around some of the more low-key locations in the city. There were museums that he could get lost in time and time again—a lot of the D.C. held some of the greatest treasures that he continued to love learning about in his down time. His seminar would only last from 2 until 5 with a late-night flight at 10.
It was a full day, but he liked that Ellie had taken control of the situation. He hadn’t wanted to make her feel like she had to drop her life to fit around his schedule. Besides their previous relationship seemed to still haunt over their friendship. The mutual trust, respect, and love seemed to continuously pour into their current reality, but it tended to make things awkward.
Still, despite the awkward interactions and his insistence to try and separate them from their friendship, Ellie continued to push them together. She had subtly mentioned starting to date in D.C. about a year ago while slightly probing into his own personal life.
The jealousy that Alan had felt slowly dwindled with each inquisitive question she asked about his current dig site—their peers—his remaining interests.
Their discussions ranged from late night hours or quick calls to catch up, but they kept nothing off the table. It was the type of conversations that he knew she had wanted while she was still in Montana. Conversations that made Alan wish he could have bore his soul to her. Instead, they spent hours circling around their lives before she finally moved back East.
Alan had agreed to meet her at 9:45 a.m. for coffee at Grace Street Coffee. Her email had raved about the coffee and the pastries. While he preferred the comfort of Montana or the countryside, cities tended to remind him of Ellie. They were fast paced—ever changing—full of excitement every single day that he happened to wake up in one.
It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy those aspects in a city (he didn’t)—it was more that they made him remember just why he and Ellie didn’t work out. She had the ability to acclimate to every type of culture. She would adapt to any situation in record time while he struggled to focus on anything other than the finer details of his job or his passions.
She deserved this life—even if he had to give up a part of his happiness—he was happy to witness her continued growth.
He managed to beat the airport crowd and grab a spot on the metro train which put him in GSC approximately ten minutes ahead of their meeting time. It gave him twelve to thirteen minutes to relax in the aura of the shop.
The café wasn’t overwhelmed with local traffic—the place was clearly an older diner that had evolved to become a small coffee shop. Just another thing that seemed to have no problems changing their stripes.
Alan ordered a black coffee with a splash of milk. Simple drink—hard to mess up in any part of the country. He gave his last name and stepped to the side of the shop.
Seven minutes.
“Grant—black with splash?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s mine.” The anticipated coffee was in a mug instead of a to-go cup. Which worked out fine, they were planning on staying in the coffee shop. There was something that felt a bit more sophisticated than his usual coffee that was splashed around in whatever paper or ceramic cup that he found lying around in Montana.
He took the drink over towards the row of tables that were placed along the window. It’d give him the perfect view to be able to see Ellie when she finally joined him. A few years ago, he would have teased that she was running a few minutes behind. She’d somehow manage to argue her case, effectively telling him why it was mandatory that she had been late. Something important had happened and it had needed her attention.
They would have debated back and forth until she offered to provide a kiss as an apology.
He would have accepted.
The untamed blonde hair that zoomed past his window was impossible to miss. It was also impossible to miss how her presence seemed to pull everyone’s attention towards herself. Ellie would never notice the crowd do a double take, but her presence had always had that effect on those around them. It hadn’t mattered whether they were secluded on a dig or in the middle of Costa Rica. There would always be people watching Ellie Sattler and she’d always be the one to overlook their interest.
He watched as her eyes quickly scanned over the coffee shop until she noticed him. Alan had noticed in her emails how excited she felt, but her eyes lit up when she finally noticed him. Her frantic hand motions towards the cashier, her continuously glances in his directions, told him everything that he needed to know.
She managed to get through the line and have her coffee in record time. He tried to keep his gaze down or focused on the outdoors. It was all too easy to mimic everyone else who had been enraptured by her since she waltzed inside, but she was an ex-girlfriend—and old friend.
“I know I’m a few minutes late. I swear, I left the apartment early enough to get here before you did, but I left all my teaching materials on my desk. Which meant I had to trek all the way back and it put me back at least—”
She stood next to the table with her coffee cup already placed on the table in front of her chair. It was classic Ellie Sattler. He desperately tried to not smirk at how animated her hands were, but she didn’t slow down.
“—Then the metro? A disaster. I finally decided to cut my losses and try to run here. All of that to say, hello Alan,” she sighed.
“Hello, Ellie,” he answered. For a moment, she remained in front of the table. Her hands were by her side while she glanced at the table and then back up to him.
Was she waiting for him to give her permission to sit down?
A moment passed until she reached for the chair to silently sit opposite of him.
“I really am sorry about being late,” Ellie promised him. Her palm moved out towards him, before she slowly slipped her hand back down to her lap.
The realization hit him that she hadn’t been waiting for permission, she had been expecting a hug.
“I-well, who knows with flights? I could have been the one running behind.” Alan tried to give her some wiggle room. Some sort of respite that he would have waited an hour if it meant that he’d get to see her for ten minutes.
“How was it? The flight? Everything go smoothly?” Ellie brought the cappuccino up to her lips as she gently blew against the hot liquid.
“As smooth as a flight can go. I caught some sleep since it’s going to be a full day here,” Alan admitted.
“Next time you need to include at least a night’s stay,” Ellie murmured.
He had been offered a hotel, but the idea of staying in the same city as Ellie overnight seemed impossible. He had planned to have a quick flight in and a quick flight out. If she found out after, then he would have explained the limited amount of time. Instead, she had managed to find out his seminar.
Ellie fiddled with the edge of her coffee cup. A nervous habit that she had picked up somewhere along the way. “This seminar…I did some research. It’s for the preservation of the fossilization of pre-historic species, right? Professor Maddison is a hard ass for ensuring that his students know the whys behind how paleontology instead of simply checking off a list. I’m impressed that he was able to get ahold of you. Have you worked with him previously?”
“No, I haven’t. A friend put us in contact.” Alan rarely hung out with the professors on campus. Even while teaching, he managed to complete his classes and then hurry back to either the library or his office. “I was doing this as a favor for her. Elizabeth Foley? She helped set me up with my current site manager.”
“Ah, I’ve heard of her,” Ellie confirmed. She wasn’t as surrounded by the on-site members of the paleontology groups, but familiar names often crossed into the professional world.
“Enough about me—how are you? Are you liking the new teaching gig?” She had told him that she was enjoying it, but he had experience in the field. It often felt like a rewarding job, but then quickly slid into annoyance once you had twenty-five papers that were written on the same, false information due to students using the same unauthorized book that they found in the school library.
“I’m enjoying it! It’s a lot of work, but it’s fulfilling in a way that I hadn’t expected.” Ellie brought the cup up to her lips to sip at the drink. “I can see myself looking into other areas though. I’m not sure I’d be able to keep up a full-time tenure. Maybe a couple semesters at a time?”
“Would you be interested in going back into the field?” There were so many ways of keeping your toes dipped into the world of pre-historic creatures and plant life. There were ways in which he hadn’t even dreamt of imagining, but he knew that she’d probably keep her eyes peeled for the best fit for her.
“Are you inviting me back?” Ellie grinned at his immediate blush which only served to deepen the red tint on his cheeks.
“You’re always welcomed back, you know that.” Alan murmured. “I was mostly asking because I’ve noticed there’s a distinct lack of books from a female perspective of paleobotany. I think you could make a real change in that area. I know that I’d love to read more than the monthly journals from you. You were meant to teach and share your knowledge, Elle.”
It was a nickname that he didn’t frequently use. A nickname for her nickname, but he could tell that his tone had its intended effect. She softened—her mouth curling up in his favorite smile.
“You’ve always known how to charm a woman, Alan Grant.” Her hand reached out to grasp onto his.
The silence wasn’t awkward this time. He didn’t bother moving his hand away from her, but instead, he squeezed it in return.
“I have to admit, there was a selfish reason that I was so persistent to see you on this trip,” Ellie vocalized. Alan watched as she began to fidget with his own hand. He wasn’t positive that she knew she was doing it, especially as she laced their hands together. “I’ve been...seeing someone for a while now.”
The admission didn’t come as a shock. He had known that she was going on dates through the conversations. While she never specified that it was the same person, he could tell that something was happening. “Ellie—that’s great,” he deadpanned. His attempt to seem like an active participant fell flat. Her hand suddenly seemed clammy, but she continued fiddling with his fingers. It was a nervous tick that she had started early in their relationship.
He had found it adorable then and he appreciated it now.
“I think he’s going to ask me to marry him soon,” she blurted out. “I found a ring in his dresser—my parents are coming down soon to visit—but I found out that his parents are in town as well.”
“That seems…good.” Ellie had always been analytical. She had had a ten-year plan for them by the tenth month of their relationship. It was something that he often appreciated, but the trouble happened when they needed to set the plans in motion.
His response wasn’t satisfactory. It was obvious by the way her lips pursed in response to him—her body deflating as she stared down at her half empty cup. “It’s good,” she repeated.
“It’s great!” Alan added.
“We all know additional adjectives,” Ellie answered. “I just felt like I needed to tell someone to make it real in my head. Everyone around me is getting married and having families. This is the next step. It just seems so soon.”
It had been two years since they broke up—eighteen months since they’d been intimate. Alan felt like it was soon for him, but she was too young to be held up by a societal standard.
“You’ve had kids in your plans since—” Alan trailed off. It was hard to talk about their failed relationship when their emotions were still so obvious.
Alan loved her—she loved him, but there was a piece missing from the puzzle.
A puzzle piece that had been abandoned on Isla Nublar—lost to the tragic island forever.
“I think this is a logical next step, Elle,” Alan admitted. “If you’re happy with him and if you—care enough for him.”
He was awful at this, but her hand squeezed his immediately. They were possibly the worst people to talk about their feelings. “Thank you,” Ellie murmured.
Alan’s thumb swiped against the back of her hand. “Any time.”
—
They had ended up talking about some of his latest artifacts after Ellie had admitted why she had moved her schedule around to meet with him. All the dinosaurs in the world seemed a bit uninteresting in comparison to her life.
Ellie was evolving from the woman that had spent days out in the field with him into someone that was going to take over their field in mere years. Her boyfriend, Mark Degler, came from a political family. He had his eyes on politics, but on the back end. It meant that her ability to blend in would come in handy in future moments.
Alan hated the way that she clearly had feelings for the other man, but they had continuously reached for each other during the short coffee break. At the end, they ended up in a tight hug. A murmur and a promise to keep in touch—to send an email when the question was finally asked.
They both knew that Alan wouldn’t be showing up at a wedding ceremony, but it was nice to still keep her in his mind.
Alan was happy that she was happy.
Yet, she hadn’t said that to him.
Instead, they had discussed logical steps—future movements that seemed to make sense.
“Dr. Grant, this is your gate.”
His driver had pulled over at the Washington National Airport right outside Gate 6. Alan had opted to head to the airport early instead of wandering the streets of downtown Washington. In fact, he had desperate tried to forget how easy it would be to walk towards Ellie’s own University office for a final goodbye.
—
He could get lost in the National Airport. While the city was home to several political and business centric things, the arches that welcomed him past security were something out of a cathedral. The ceilings were beautifully crafted that let the natural light shine through the upper windows.
Alan had time to waste—time to enjoy the local vendors that tried to pull in his attention. He wasn’t one to be distracted by finer clothes. In fact, he often found himself looking for the cheapest things when multiple options were provided. Aged alcohol that was created in local distilleries were interesting, but he rarely trusted himself to drink alone.
“It’s 150 for the painting, 75 for the print, and then 25 for the postcard.”
The hustle and bustle came from a smaller section of the shopping area. The shop was filled from top to bottom with autumn-colored paintings with winter green flickered throughout. They were stunning and ranging from multi-level homes to small landscapes that reminded him of Northern California.
“Welcome in! Where are you traveling from?”
The older gentleman was covered in paint. His fingers had black paint smudged into their tips while his apron was splattered with all types of oranges and yellows.
“I’m headed back to Montana,” Alan admitted to him.
“Beautiful state. I’ve drawn a lot of inspiration from the late-night sunsets.” He carefully moved himself from behind the easel to point at a few different options. “My wife, Caroline, loved visiting the mountains in the Florida summer. This one—this one was on my mind for ages until I finally perfected it.”
Alan followed the painters gaze until he noticed the painting with a wrap around porch. It was a stunning painting that had managed to encapsulate the late Montana air.
“She was a feisty one. I was a proud Floridian resident, but she was a traveler. When we were discussing marriage and she told me that she wouldn’t marry me unless I promised that I’d take vacations with her. I don’t think she ever realized that I was always going to be following her around like a lost puppy…with my paint supplies in hand.”
Alan wasn’t one for old stories, but his words felt painfully familiar.
“I’m sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m Randall Wilds—and you are?” Randall offered a hand towards Alan.
The painting that Randall had pointed out had captured Alan’s attention. “Alan,” he answered. His tone remained noncommittal, but his eyes were trained onto the painting.
“We have several options to take them home. Each painting is available, but if you’d like something more travel friendly, perhaps a post card or a rolled-up print?” Randall glanced up at the old painting while Alan continued to stare at it.
The painting had mountains topped with white snow while the trees around the home were slowly falling to the ground. The home was a stunning Birmingham styled home with a clear farmhouse in the background. In the front porch swing, a blonde woman sat in the seat. The toys that were scattered along the yard all led to a small boy pushing another blonde girl in a tire swing.
“How many kids do you have?” Randall asked. The busy airport seemed to easily fade away when you were on the inside of his small shop.
Alan couldn’t seem to get away from those topics nowadays. He was older than most of the first-time fathers on all the dig sites now, but each time, he got the age old of question of when. “No kids,” he admitted.
“I’m sorry to hear that. And your wife?” Randall continued.
“No wife either. I’m dedicated to my work,” Alan said.
“Is your work dedicated to you?” Randall asked. “I’ve seen that look on many people’s faces as they pass through here. Washington, D.C. is a boisterous city—with a lot of dirt on the underbelly. Whatever you’re trying to run away from will eventually catch up to you. I’d genuinely hope that it happens sooner rather than later. You never know what you’re going to miss hiding from yourself.”
It felt exhausting to hear someone speak his own emotions into a space where Alan truly had to reflect on them. He was always willing to go to another dig site or set up another school with a paleontology curriculum, but it felt never ending. His work had little downtime since ’94. He had purposefully filled his days with events that stopped reality from catching up to him.
“Kids are a big responsibility,” Alan pointed out. “They’re not like your paintings…where they play by themselves...the dirt doesn’t stay outside.”
“Of course not, they’re small children,” Randall chuckled. “I had five of them, but I wouldn’t give them up for anything. Every single one of them remind me of their mother on both the good and the bad days. The dirt eventually falls away while the loud mornings and the constant screaming dies down…and you’re left with the reality that your life was full of love.”
Alan couldn’t get the feeling of Ellie’s hand in his own as they continued talking throughout morning coffee. The way that she had specifically mentioned Mark—warning him that he was about to lose her. Their relationship had ended on rocky terms. The first six months held nightly phone calls—gentle discussions of whether or not they were doing the right thing.
“My girlfriend,” Alan realized his words and immediately shook his head. “My ex-girlfriend might be getting engaged next week.” He didn’t tell his life stories to strangers over a shared love of art, but Randall didn’t know him. Randall was probably the safest person that Alan could express his concerns to without the information finding its way back to Ellie. The post cards were located underneath the original paintings which made it easy for Alan to pick it up in his hand.
It was a silly to think that the life in front of him could potentially be his life. Yet, he couldn’t get the warmth of Ellie’s hand out of his mind—the gentle way she buried her face against his shoulder—or how they had lingered around each other.
“I never regretted one moment that I spent with my Caroline. I never regretted an early morning or an argument that I had to apologize for.” Randall slipped the card out of Alan’s hand to slide it into a protective case. “I’ve only regretted that I didn’t have more time with her. You can’t buy that back once it’s gone…isn’t that sad?”
Alan had assumed that his wife passed away, but the honest truth felt more devastating than he could imagine. The painting carried more hope than what he felt, but he was beginning to realize that perhaps he could gain some type of control. “I’m not sure Ellie’s interested in this dream anymore.”
“If she wasn’t interested in an alternative, would she torture you with the knowledge of her impending engagement? We spend decades wondering how we can understand complicated women, but they often tell us things in simple terms. Maybe, she wanted you to choose her instead of begging you to return to her.” Randall slipped a contact card inside the paper bag and sealed it with a personalized sticker. “I think this one’s on the house. Caroline would have loved getting to play matchmaker through her favorite paintings.”
“You deserve compensation,” Alan argued. “You don’t know how this is going to end.”
“Ah, but I’m an optimist!” Randall teased. He handed the bag over to Alan, his grip firm when he held onto Alan’s wrist. “It’s not wrong to not know the ending of your story. It’s wrong to not try to chase after what you desire.”
--
He lasted another hour until he finally decided to give in. He could either leave in an hour to go back to Montana or he could give her the post card. It didn’t mean that she would choose him, but Randall was right. It’d give her options or let her know just how much he still wanted her.
Alan hadn’t been lying when he said that she would always be welcomed back on-site.
The last thing that he wanted to do was cause her life to be upheaved, but they both deserved happiness.
The taxi line had never looked more daunting as he dug through his wallet to try and find the address that he had scribbled down from the phone book. His hands had shaken with each page that he turned while looking for Sattler, Ellie in the DMV area white pages.
Maybe he should have called her to warn her, but he had no idea what he’d say to her over the phone. If she was busy tonight with Mark, he knew she’d probably be at his place. Perhaps Mark was taking tonight to propose. Alan had never thought of proposing in front of her family. In fact, she was always stressed when her mother and father came to visit.
Alan had hardly noticed anything pass by him as he rode to the Van Ness neighborhood. It wasn’t until he was dropped off with an abrupt break from his driver that he realized he was in front of the large brownstone apartment.
Washington, D.C. still had working professionals flooding the streets at 7:23 p.m. Some were wearing ties and suits while others were sliding out of their heels and into suitable walking shoes. The time may work in his favor. If she wasn’t home, then he could wait for her. It’d give him some more time to reflect on what he was going to be admitting to her.
The hustle and bustle of the city only added to the nerve to finally tell her something.
Alan followed the apartment numbers until he found apartment #213.
His hand shook as he tapped against the front door. There was immediate movement from inside and a call of ‘be right there’ coming over some musical notes that he could hear from the door.
“Alan?” Ellie’s voice cracked when she said his name without fully opening the door. She had glanced through the peephole which allowed her to already open her door wider for him. “Your—flight? Isn’t it soon?”
“It is,” he confirmed, but he still shrugged with his duffle on one shoulder with his brown bag in his hand. “I needed to see you first. Can I come in?”
There was a chance that she was going to be on a date with her boyfriend, but Ellie didn’t hesitate in moving out of the doorway.
“Alan, are you okay?” Her hand moved out to wrap around his wrist. The touch centered his attention on her words. He was flustered from making last minute decisions and running around the entirety of D.C.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” he promised.
“Do you need something to drink? I can get you a glass of water.” Her hand slipped from his wrist down to wrap around his hand. She gently tugged him further into his apartment towards her kitchen.
Alan shook his head, but blurted out--“Can I get some bourbon?”
“You’re scaring me, Alan. What’s wrong?” It wasn’t until she stepped back to look at him that she realized that he was still carrying his bag. Her hand moved up to slide the strap down his arm.
He wasn’t watching her—nor paying attention to anything that she was saying. It seemed counter intuitive to hand anyone alcohol in this state, but this was Alan. They didn’t say anything while she reached into her cabinets to begin making his drink.
It felt strange that she could feel his gaze remain on her, but he didn’t bother to explain himself further. What had happened between their earlier meeting and now?
Ellie poured two glasses and placed the one in front of him. “Can you say something now?”
Silence.
Alan’s hand wrapped around the cool glass and brought the liquor to his lips. She had stayed in the habit of buying his favorite brand, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he tossed the drink back in one quick shot.
His face scrunched up and his hands flattened on her kitchen island. “Ellie,” he grumbled. “Say no to Mark next week.”
The reality of what he requested caused Ellie’s heart to burn from pain.
“You never said that you were happy with him or in love with him. You tell me that he’s going to propose, but you weren’t excited. It was another business transaction to you—another way to find normalcy. And you, Ellie Sattler, are anything but normal. You’re the first thing that I think about when I wake up—the last thing on my mind before I go to bed. I see your face on every mother that brings their children to the dig site. I don’t have all the answers for our relationship, but I know that I’ll work on them. I need time—time that a proposal won’t allow.”
Alan’s hands fumbled with the brown bag that held the postcard.
“I want this life with you.”
Ellie gently reached forward to take the item out of his trembling hand. Instead of moving away from him, she stepped closer and allowed his hands to clutch onto her free one. The photo was clearly Montana mountains. The home was stunning, but the kids in the front yard and the blonde on the porch was the most important part.
“I wanted it with you too,” Ellie admitted. It had been a dream of hers since before they left for Isla Nublar. Even after the island, she had noticed his softening tone towards children. Alan Grant was a hardass, but Tim and Lex had fundamentally changed him. Their relationship issues had stemmed from different places afterwards, but differences in their future family had seemed to be the easiest thing to blame. “Want—it’s present tense,” she corrected herself.
“Thank God,” he muttered. Alan’s hand gripped hers to pull her closer towards him. He pressed her back against the island.
Her free hand reached up to bury itself against his hair. It allowed her to bring his face down into her neck as she finally received the hug she had waited for since this morning. The relief in his body seemed to seep into hers as she wrapped his arm around her waist.
“I can’t believe you bought me art,” Ellie whispered. His arms tugged against her waist to pull her in closer.
“I had no idea what I was doing.” Alan buried his face against her neck to breathe deeply against her skin. There were small things that were different from before, but she fit perfectly in his arms again.
“This is also the most you’ve ever talked about the potential future that you want.” She forced them to pull back so that she could look at him. “I like it though.”
She knew that he was slowly retreating back into himself, but her quiet Alan wasn’t hiding from her. He was a man of few words, but his physical touches managed to say everything that she needed to hear.
“I’m finishing out the school year,” Ellie told him.
Alan chuckled and nodded in agreement. “I’m fine with that.”
It seemed as if Ellie wasn’t finished providing a subtle list of ‘demands’.
“I want the house in the painting,” she whispered.
“As long as you’re sitting on the front porch,” Alan agreed.
Ellie’s hand cupped his cheek to bring his forehead to rest against hers. “I could never sit still for that long, Alan Grant. How about we sit on the front porch only after we finish up a day’s work on-site?”
“Are kids running around our yard not enough exercise?”
She felt her cheeks ache from smiling at him. “I thought you were taking care of the kids. Someone told me earlier that I could make a real feminine change in paleobotany. I was thinking of doing that instead.”
“Ellie, you can do anything that you set your mind onto.” Alan promised her. “Just let me know when you need me to jump in.”