#alangrant

You could think about Alan and the way he seemed to invade your every thought and how subtle touches and finger grazes had been occurring for the past couple of months, just as it had minutes ago when he handed you the tub. Was it just your hope for something more that made you notice these little things more and more? Surely they weren’t merely accidental?

The muffled sounds of chattering voices and clinking tools could be heard from outside of the trailer where the rest of the volunteers and assistant paleontologists were tinkering away at the earth. It left little else to be heard or spoken, save for any instructions the two of you had for each other as you worked. The silence of concentration had never bothered you before like it did now as you tried to come up with a way to express your feelings to the paleontologist behind you.

After some time, when you had finished rinsing what you could, you took the tub back to the table across from him, setting it carefully beside the prepped acid baths he was working with. You sat back down on your stool and started gluing small fragments together that had already gone through the process of preparation. Your ability to concentrate dwindled with him in your line of sight; you couldn’t help but glance away every few seconds to admire him, toying with the idea of asking him outright about the subtle flirting. He was oblivious, of course—or at least you hoped he was.

“Alan, can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, his gaze stilled fixated on the specimens he was dipping into the acid treatments with his gloved hands. You waited to continue until he pulled his hands out and laid the sediment onto a tray next to the others. He perceived your patient silence as a request to pause for a moment, which he did.

He brushed the light brown fringe away from his forehead with his forearm before releasing a sigh he had been holding onto while he worked. When he returned your gaze, you felt your sudden bout of confidence shrinking by the second. What if it was all just coincidental? What if he didn’t feel the same way and by asking him, you would make a complete fool out of yourself? Would he be uncomfortable working within close proximity with you from then on?

You swallowed. You had to ask him outright. Waiting around for a clearer sign was practically torture when it was all you could think about…and something about Alan’s personality told you he wasn’t going to be the one to make the first move.

“Am I wrong in thinking there’s something going on here? Between you and me?”

Your heartbeat quickened when his eyebrows rose questioningly. He obviously hadn’t been expecting that question to pop out so suddenly. It took him a moment to process your words and the implications behind them. He glanced down and pulled his gloves off carefully and set them aside before rubbing his hands on the towel draped in the sink behind him.

You watched with growing anxiety as he faced you again, rubbing his fingers almost nervously. He cleared his throat a couple of times before he managed to find his voice.

“Uh, no, you aren’t wrong.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed and you took in a deep, relieved breath. You couldn’t help but smile at him from across the metal table. He liked you back.

However, that sweet smile you wore soon faded when you saw that the crooked smirk he gave you seemed almost forced—like he was ashamed to admit that he felt something for you. Why did he seem so uncomfortable? Wasn’t this a good thing?

“You seem upset.”

“I don’t know if this is something we should pursue, (Y/n).”

He said it so easily, so quickly. You hadn’t even had the chance to discuss anything more and he already made up his mind?

“Why? We like each other, don’t we?”

“Ah, yes, but,” he rubbed his hands together again, he seemed to find it hard to focus on your gaze, “It can be complicated.”

“How would it be complicated, Alan? We know each other pretty well already, we work together every day, we have the same profession,” Your brows drew together as you sat straight up. Somehow, this entire idea of confessing your feelings was beginning to feel like a mistake. “Am I missing something?”

“When you work together every day, as close as we do, it can get messy.”

Your confused expression turned to one of hurt—you felt as if you had just been rejected before you had even attempted to ask him out properly, even after he had admitted to having the same feelings for you. He seemed absolutely dead-set against wanting to be with you.

Where was this coming from?

Suddenly, you realized. Your mind drifted back to Ellie Sattler, the paleobotanist who had worked with Alan before she left the field to start her own family. You knew that she and Alan had a history together, although you weren’t sure exactly how it had ended. A few of the long-time volunteers and specialists on his team had hinted that they had had a difference of opinion on their future together, that Alan had wanted to keep working and Ellie wanted to settle down and experience something different—especially after their return from Isla Nublar. Their paths had simply diverged.

But still – he dated someone he worked with, didn’t he? And evidently, it worked out well until something traumatic pulled their interests in different directions. These were completely different circumstances. Why did your work have to affect it now?

“That didn’t stop you before.”

He released a heavy sigh and leaned forward onto the table with his fists. He knew you were talking about Ellie. He lowered his head to study the specimens laid around the two of you with a gaze full of racing thoughts. What was he supposed to say to that? How was he supposed to explain himself without seeming disinterested? How was he going to explain that the conclusion of his last relationship was exactly why he didn’t want to start another one with you?

He didn’t want to repeat that same cycle and wind up losing you in the end of it. At least here, as friends and colleagues, you could have each other in some way. How could he put that into words?

You dropped your gaze and stared at the glue-dipped brush in your hands, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to be alone and busy your hands with work. Quietly, you picked up the fragments in front of you and began lathering the glue into their small cracks. You went back and forth between the photograph of the excavated composition and the pieces in front of you, fitting them together like a delicate, impatient puzzle. You wished you had never said anything at all.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought, (Y/n), and I don’t think it’s going to work.”

You felt yourself recoil. It stung to know that he had already thought about the prospect of being together and decided the matter all on his own without coming to you. After all, you were half of the equation – and wasn’t he a man of science?

“So you’re okay with just ignoring each other from now on?”

“Ignore each other? No, we don’t have to do that – we can be friends, we can work together, we can go on as we are. We don’t have to be dating to do that.”

“Alan,” You took another deep breath and let your eyes wander to the fossils near your hands. After rubbing your cheeks and forehead for a moment to wipe the anxious fatigue from your senses, you finally looked back up. “I can’t just go back to being your friend when I’m in love with you!  Especially not after you just told me you feel the same way! You may be able to shove your feelings aside, but that’s not so easy for me.”

You saw his shock return at your open use of the term ‘love’. But that’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were adults and adults dealt with genuine substantial feelings. You didn’t want to beat around the bush anymore. He seemed to swallow his astonishment and flattery, pulling himself back into the conversation.

“(Y/n), it’s not easy for me either.”

“Then why are you asking me to do that? Why are you so against trying this out?”

“I’m not, I just-…”

“But you made the decision before talking to me about it, Alan. Why give up on something that could end up being wonderful?”

“Because I’ve already had wonderful before, (Y/n), and look how that ended.”

Ouch.

In your ears, it sounded like he said he had already had the best. How could you do any better?

“I had something that worked perfectly fine, but it fell apart because of me, because of this,” He gestured his hand vaguely towards the dig site on the other side of the trailer door, “I chose my work over a future with someone I cared about because I simply didn’t want it. I didn’t want that life. I can’t have a life where I’m not here, doing this. It doesn’t fit me. And the longer you and I are together, the more differences we’ll find until there’re too many to compromise over.”

You were hurt to be told that he wouldn’t try it with you because it hadn’t worked with someone else. You wanted to be upset and let yourself wallow in those emotions, let yourself misinterpret his words—but you didn’t. Instead, you tried your best to understand his point of view and why he didn’t want things to go as sour as they had before.

You had to convince him otherwise, show him that this was an entirely different situation and you were an entirely different person. And if knowing all of that, he still didn’t want to try, you would have to learn to be okay with that – or keep fighting for your chance.

“You can’t just assume we would end up that way, Alan, or-or that we would end at all!” You exclaimed, impassioned to help him see what you saw; to see the possibility in your futures together. “I understand that you don’t want to be hurt again, but you can’t let that stop you from moving forward with your life. I’m a completely different person with different aspirations. I don’t want to settle down, I don’t want a life where I find myself at home with kids and not working out here. I want to keep excavating and learning,” your voice softened into a plea, “and I want to do it with you.”

“And after you get tired of digging? When you’re tired of dirt in the sheets and a layer of dust all over everything,” He dragged his finger across the countertop behind him, picking up a trail of thin dust on his skin to show you, “and cold showers and every meal cooked over a crummy grill?”

“I won’t get tired of it.”

“If you did, (Y/n). What then?”

“Are you asking for my retirement plan?”

There was a ghost of a laugh on his lips and his smile flashed, widening those dimpled lines in his cheeks that you adored. His pondering expression returned when his laughter faded. He dusted his hands against his khaki pants before crossing them over his chest. When he raised his eyes to catch your gaze again and you smiled fondly at him before you continued.

“Alan, I don’t know what I’ll want five years from now or even twenty-five years from now. I’m not someone who plans things. I just have a general idea of what I’d like to do someday. All I know is that this is where I want to be for a while, on a site, wherever the site moves. After that, maybe I’ll spend some time in one of the good museums, doing some research for a larger group,”

“Or maybe I’d like to travel and see some of the foreign collections…I’d like to see more of the world, maybe stay in a cottage somewhere in Ireland for a while, spend a Christmas in New York…but that’s really it. I just want to take it as it comes,” you could see him relax with every word you spoke, “I don’t want to drag you away from this life you have here and I definitely don’t want to change you—I like this life, too, and I like you as you are.”

You smiled tenderly at the paleontologist whose brilliant blue eyes searched yours. For several lingering moments, he seemed to weigh the possibilities against their chances. When his tucked-in lips turned into a smile that was accompanied by an almost shocked laugh, it seemed as though you had broken through to him. He could see now that it was entirely possible for this to turn out completely different than his last relationship. Who said there would be an ending? For all he knew, this one could stick; this one could last forever.

He could see that you wholeheartedly believed it would.

He suddenly felt a little bashful—and somewhat mischievous—as he cast his gaze to the ground, rubbing the toe of his shoe against the leg of the table as he pondered something quietly. There was a lopsided smile adorning his face when his playful gaze lifted to meet your doting one.

“Maybe I spoke too soon.”

“I think that’s a possibility, Dr. Grant.”