Archive of Our Own

It wasn’t Agatha’s fault that Kate was having a bad day but finding her unexpected and unannounced in her tiny one-bed flat after an absolutely shit day, during which she’d found out her research paper on dinosaur ovulation had been rejected, her next research project had already been done by a research group in America, and to top it all off the HMart had been out of her favorite noodles. She had trudged back home past the pretty Cambridge colleges thinking at least she’d be able to make some chai and put her feet up but no, Agatha Danbury, her late father’s slightly eccentric, very rich, mentor and friend, was rooting about in Kate’s cupboards.

“Where is your champagne?” said Agatha in lieu of a greeting, or even an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” said Kate, looking at the lock on her door with some concern, “How did you even get in?”

“Never mind that,” said Agatha, scowling at a half-empty bottle of chardonnay that Kate had bought for a mushroom risotto and then never finished, “If this plonk is the best you can do, it’s a good thing I bought my own.”

Kate closed her front door and took off her coat and shoes. She didn’t know Agatha particularly well by any means but from what she remembered from her father’s stories, Agatha was always one to assume that everyone was automatically on board with whatever was going through her mind. ‘Commit crimes first, ask questions never’ was her motto, and Kate’s favorite punchline to any ‘Professor Danbury’ story.

“Why do you need champagne right now?” asked Kate.

“Because we are alive and breathing and that is a cause for celebration,” said Agatha, “And because we are celebrating your new job. Where are your champagne flutes?”

“I don’t have a new job. Or champagne flutes.”

Agatha ignored her, focusing on untwisting the wire holding the champagne cork in place, cane clamped under her armpit, her tongue between her teeth.

“Agatha? My current post doc doesn’t finish for another six months. I don’t have a new job.”

“Yes you do,” said Agatha, uncorking the bottle with a loud 'pop' and pouring champagne into one mug that said ‘Best Vet Ever’ and another that said ‘University of Cambridge Hindu Society’. She offered one mug to Kate with a meaningful look.

Kate took it like it was a pint of absinthe.

“With… you?”

“Indeed,” said Agatha.

Kate’s stomach dropped. Somehow she didn’t think that a job with Agatha would involve spending all day and all night in the paleobiology section of the library.

“You say your post doc finishes in six months,” said Agatha, sipping from her mug, “Then what?”

Kate shrugged. “Another post doc I guess.”

“Where?”

Kate refrained from answering by drinking from her mug. It was pleasantly bubbly and not too sweet. Kate knew nothing about champagne but she knew Agatha well enough that this was likely the good stuff.

“Where?” Agatha repeated, raising her left eyebrow in a way that made Kate feel like she was thirteen again and trying frantically to finish her math homework at the back of the classroom.

“Not sure,” said Kate, “But I’ll find something.”

“Something has already found you, girl. You have a new job.”

“This is quite literally the first I’m hearing about it!” said Kate, putting her mug down in her tiny kitchenette, reluctant to drink any more until she knew exactly what kind of hare-brained scheme Agatha had roped her into, “You keep saying I have a new job, doing what? And why me?”

“And how much I assume?” said Agatha shrewdly.

Kate gave a hollow laugh. “We haven’t even got to that bit yet.”

“Good,” said Agatha, “You’re ready to listen.”

“Listen to what? You haven’t told me anything!”

“Well be quiet then and I’ll tell you!” Agatha snapped, as though Kate was being the unreasonable one.

Agatha continued, “Your new job will be in Costa Rica-”

“Costa Rica!” cried Kate, “Agatha, I still have to spend the next six months in Cambridge!”

“No, not Costa Rica, an island off the coast of Costa Rica. Isla Sorna, to be precise.”

“Oh that’s alright then,” said Kate sarcastically, “Please do go on.”

“I have a- ah- safari park on the island. It is not yet open to the public, however that will change in the next year. In the meantime I need a full-time live-in veterinarian.”

“And that’s me is it?”

“You were a clinical veterinarian, were you not?”

“I was but-”

“Well there we are then,” said Agatha, as though the matter was closed.

Kate frowned at her mug of slowly-warming champagne. It was true that she had been a veterinarian. She had studied at Cambridge before joining a practice in London. She had hated the city, too many people, too much traffic and not enough wide open fields to ride horses through. So she’d quit and taken a job in rural Somerset thinking that would suit her better. But it hadn’t, putting down lame horses and diseased sheep had psychologically tormented Kate, not to mention she found mammals scientifically boring. A strange thing to discover after an entire degree and a few years of clinical practice but Kate supposed at least she’d had that realization sooner rather than later. So after a nervous breakdown, she’d quit her job in Somerset, completed a paleontology PhD at the University of Leeds before returning to Cambridge for her post-doc.

Cambridge was the first place she had ever returned to. Normally once she left a place, that was it. Perhaps that was the real reason why Agatha had offered her this job, she knew she was a bolter. She knew Kate was going stir-crazy in Cambridge.

“I hadn’t intended to be a vet again. I like academia.”

Agatha snorted.

“Academia at your level chews up smart women and spits them out. Are you really happy to be stuck in libraries all day? Trying to find a gap in evolution that some AI start-up with too much venture capital and not enough ethics hasn’t found yet?”

“That made absolutely no sense,” said Kate.

“Or do you want to do something?” said Agatha, as though Kate hadn’t said anything, “I knew you as a girl, you always had to be riding horses or playing in mud or smuggling a frog into your room. You cannot tell me now you don’t wish for something more.”

“A safari is just a posh farm. Tigers and elephants are just fancy sheep and cows, no thank you. I’m sure islands off the coast of Costa Rica are lovely this time of year but I switched to paleontology for a reason. Less lions, more lizards.”

Agatha’s eyes glittered like the wings of a beetle before it was about to take flight. For a moment Kate felt like a fly who was only just realising it was caught in a web.

“No lions, Kate. No mammals at all. Only lizards.”

Kate gaped at her.

“Only lizards? What kind of safari are you running?”

Agatha told her. Kate could only stare at her in shock. Agatha grew increasingly smug as sheer wonder and curiosity crashed over Kate like a wave.

“Well, Dr Sharma?” said Agatha after several seconds of complete silence.

Kate downed her champagne in one.

–

It wasn't that Anthony hadn't flown before. He had flown many, many times, whether to university friends' weddings in Italy, make-or-break holidays to Paris with a soon-to-be-ex girlfriend or to rescue Colin from whatever international incident he'd found himself in. But they had all been either in chartered private jets or at the very least first class in a proper airplane. Flying over the Caribbean sea in a plane so small that he couldn't walk around lest he upset the plane's weight distribution was an entirely new experience for him.
It seemed to meet every air pocket with a lurch that sent his stomach out of his mouth and made his fists clench around the air. He normally would not care, or at least take a valium or something, but this was technically a work trip and besides, well.

Her.

He had spotted her first at the tiny airport in Florida, looking like an even sexier Lara Croft in a dark green tank top and black cargo shorts, curly hair flowing down her back, and although he had never been religious, he immediately prayed that they would be on the same flight, that she somehow knew Agatha and somehow had been roped into this absolutely insane idea that he wasn’t sure was even possible, never mind real.

But it turned out to be less a prayer and more of a wish with a monkey's paw. Because yes, she was on the same barely air-worthy aircraft, brown legs so long they were sitting almost knee-to-knee, her curly hair so big in the tropical humidity that every time she moved the dry plane air was at her command, carrying her floral scent like a carriage carrying a queen.

Anthony frowned at his gin and tonic. Good Lord, whatever that theory was about alcohol affecting you more at altitude must be true. Hendricks was making him a bloody poet!

He looked up from his plastic beaker (you wouldn't get this on an airbus but laws were different on aircraft where you could reach the pilot’s carotid without unbuckling your seatbelt) to see her scowling at him.

Ah yes. The flex of the monkey's finger. The beautiful stranger who had made him literally stop in his tracks, the sudden silence louder than his squeaking on a shiny airport floor, hated him.

He supposed he hadn't made the best first impression. When Agatha had introduced them at the gate, she had simply said her name was ‘Kate Sharma’. Anthony, well-practiced at flirting with women and woefully unpracticed at feeling anything real for them, had affixed his most pleasing smile to his face and cockily asked, “Is it Miss Sharma or Mrs Sharma?”

It had not landed the way he expected. Kate Sharma had not giggled or batted her eyelashes or tucked a beautiful curl behind a beguiling ear. She had instead raised an eyebrow and said, “It’s Doctor Sharma, actually,” and turned to Agatha, deliberately cutting him. Agatha had allowed it, leaving him only with an amused yet exacerbated expression. Somehow Anthony didn’t think his excuse of “I was only trying to see if you were single or not,” would go down any slower than a lead blimp. After all they were both here to work and she clearly wasn’t interested in him anyway.

Better to focus on the subject at hand. Except that was difficult also. In Anthony’s opinion, as soon as they were cruising they should be going through the financials for this ridiculous safari island, he was particularly concerned with the insurance costs. But Agatha had waved him off, quite literally by waving her cane, and said there was plenty of time for all that later.

“Ag- Professor Danbury, I really think-”

“Professor Danbury, is it now?” said Agatha sharing a conspiratorial grin with Dr Sharma, “Deferring to titles now, Lord Bridgerton?”

Dr Sharma choked on her orange juice. Anthony felt his face grow hot because that’s exactly what he had been doing. Dr Sharma’s cut and presence had made him feel untethered, spun off his axis, ignorant of how to speak.

“You’re a Lord? A real one?” said Dr Sharma, looking at him like he was a particularly disgusting glob of slime on the sole of her Timberlands.

“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. It’s not like a Georgette Heyer novel. I still work for a living. I run an investment firm,” said Anthony, looking meaningfully at Agatha, hoping that they’d maybe return to the whole reason he was on this trip in the first place. His father had invested a rather significant sum of money when this safari had been only the concept of a twinkle in Agatha’s eye and he meant to see it pay dividends.

“Oh you work for a living, how unglamorous,” said Dr Sharma, rolling her eyes.

“It’s his family’s investment firm,” said Agatha unhelpfully, and then to rub salt into the wound, “He has four sisters, which is likely where that Georgette Heyer knowledge is from.”

“And three brothers,” Anthony muttered miserably. It had actually been Benedict’s copy of The Black Moth that Anthony had stolen on a family trip yachting around the canary islands when his own copy of The Wealth of Nations had fallen overboard (Eloise denied all knowledge of how this could have happened but Anthony knew it was her).

“And a mother,” said Agatha softly, “How is she?”

Anthony swallowed. He saw the layers in Agatha’s question and judging by the way Dr Sharma’s expression softened, so did she. He felt exposed, like sedimentary rock, all the years of grief and solitude and helplessness laid bare for her to inspect. Or worse, to pity him for.

“She is doing much better,” said Anthony. And it was mostly true. After all, Violet Bridgerton had agreed to take a new SSRI and so one battle was over. Of course the SSRI would have to actually kick in but one step at a time.

“Good, I’m glad,” said Agatha, more briskly now. Dr Sharma smiled at him and he wondered what she knew, what she might have picked up from that short exchange, or what Agatha might have told her prior to this trip. His gut twisted, he did not like the idea that they may have talked about him. But then Agatha looked at her meaningfully and he wondered how exactly they knew each other. Dr Sharma did not seem like she was a random hire from indeed dot com.

“Thank you, Agatha,” said Anthony, clearing his throat, trying to match her briskness, “Now I do think we might be able to look at the first quarter projections at least before we land.”

“I don’t,” said Dr Sharma, her face pressed against the window, “I think we’ve arrived.”

—

Anthony was still not used to the humidity. In retrospect perhaps wearing a suit he wore to work in an over-air-conditioned London office on a trip to an Island off the coast of Costa Rica was not the best idea he’d ever had. His collar was sticking uncomfortably to his neck and he wanted nothing more than to roll up his shirt sleeves- but that would mean taking off his blazer and he thought his shirt might be see-through. He did not want to embarrass himself in front of Dr Sharma any further. Instead he disembarked from the death trap of a plane down rickety stairs to blissfully solid ground as though he did this all the time, Armani suit and all.

When they got to the jeep that Agatha said would take them to the newly constructed visitor center, Anthony tried to gallantly offer the shotgun seat to Dr Sharma. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and took the back seat next to Agatha, leaving Anthony to ride in the front next to a cheerful but dramatically eyebrowed man called Jon. This wasn’t a particularly good outcome for Anthony who had hoped to go through some financials with Agatha in the jeep since they hadn't been able to on the plane. But nevertheless he balanced his laptop on his lap and attempted to show Agatha what his father’s initial investment had been and what he was expecting to recoup in the next one, five and ten years.

He was so focused on his spreadsheet that he didn’t feel the jeep stop. Didn’t notice the hushed silence that descended on everyone except him. Didn’t realize anything until he felt a sharp tug on his ear. Dr Sharma pulled on his shell and the rest of his head followed until he saw what she saw, until he was clambering out of the jeep like he was swimming through a dream.

Dinosaurs.

Real ones, huge and majestic, towering above them. Anthony thought you could take him, Dr Sharma, Agatha and Jon, stand them all on top of each other and they still wouldn’t come to half the dinosaur’s height.

There were six of them in total, a little family. Anthony watched as the one nearest him tore an uppermost branch off a tree and munched, leaves and wood disappearing into a cavernous mouth. He could not look away although a crick was developing in the back of his neck. He could not blink although tears were starting to well up in his eyes. He could not take his eyes off them for even a second.

Instantly, he knew it had all been worth it. Ten years after his father’s death, Anthony could account for every penny of the late Edmund’s Bridgerton’s estate, kept track of each and every one of his investments from the sensible to the hare-brained. This venture had been the riskiest of the lot but even if the whole thing had been a loss, it was worth it, just for this moment.

“Welcome to Jurassic Park,” said Agatha, the thwack of her cane on the ground sounding nearer, “Kate, I know you know this but Anthony, these marvelous creatures are-”

“Brachiosaurus,” he said, “I had a book on dinosaurs as a child. They were in there.”

But nothing like this. The bad illustrations, somehow garishly oversaturated, are nothing compared to this, real life dinosaurs. Creatures unseen for millions of years standing before him, real and breathing and eating and all the wonderful things that make a creature alive.

“You did it,” he whispered, “You genius, you actually did it.”

—

The visitor center was a friendly-looking building, creamy yellow sliding with a cheerful green roof. Inside the main entrance was the requisite colossal dinosaur skeleton (“a real one,” Agatha had assured them, “None of that Dippy fuckery like in South Kensington”) around which spiraled a staircase made of very convincing dinosaur bones.

But they didn’t climb them. Instead Agatha beckoned them through a large door which led to a surprisingly fancy movie theater. Kate took a seat in the middle relaxing into a wonderfully soft red chair, a balm after the turbulent plane ride and the hard seats in the jeep.

Anthony Bridgerton took a seat a respectful distance away from her. After his shitty comment in the airport and his clear obsession with money, she had written him off as just another dickhead finance bro. But his reaction to the brachiosaurus had surprised her. He had been annoying at first, refusing to look up from his laptop screen at the incredible scientific achievement in front of them. But then he looked and she saw her own wonder reflected on his face. She wondered if, like her, he felt like a child again, like the universe was teaming with things she didn’t know but couldn’t wait to find out.

Agatha took her own seat towards the back of the little theater. She rapped her cane twice on the chair in front of her and instantly the house lights dimmed to nothing and the screen lit up.

The film was some dated cartoon depicting how the dinosaurs came to be, something about dinosaur DNA was found in the stomach of a mosquito and incubated in a chicken egg to produce the first baby dinosaur in 66 million years. Kate watched every colored light dance across the screen, drank in every crumb of information but it wasn’t enough. It was a weird cartoon aimed at little kids and their parents who slept through science class at school. Kate needed more.

The cartoon faded out and gave way to early footage of the first dinosaurs Agatha reared. There was no audio and the house lights came up but the film kept playing, fainter now with house lights gleaming. Kate kept watching, studying how the dinosaurs moved. Would they be prone to arthritis? The species with flatter faces, would they have breathing difficulties? How were they avoiding inbreeding? How could Kate be a good vet to these wonderful creatures?

“I was thinking of having some music here,” Agatha said as the screen showed home movies of dinosaurs walking across a field. Even with the poor video quality, they looked majestic, “A march perhaps. Something thunderous and war-like.”

“No.”

Anthony’s voice was like a whip, sudden and sharp. Kate turned towards him in surprise, she had forgotten he was there.

Anthony shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Kate suppressed a sneer, oh now he was uncomfortable with attention on him?

He looked at Kate, then Agatha then back to her again. Kate was struck by the expression on his face now, so different from the smirking charmer she had met at the airport or the tense-jawed venture capitalist she had stared at on the plane. There was a far-away, dreamy look in his eyes, a small smile was playing about his lips.

“Not war-like,” he whispered, “They aren’t creatures of war, they’re creatures of wonder. You need a wondrous theme to match. Strings in the background and a woodwind carrying the melody, a clarinet perhaps…”

And then Anthony started singing. No words, only vocalizations to a melody that was beautiful and enchanting and God damn this soulless financier, wondrous, it exactly captured every emotion Kate had felt when she had first seen the brachiosaurus. As Anthony continued singing, Kate felt tears well up in her eyes. Flickering lights on a screen wasn’t enough, she wanted to run outside again, be unsurrounded by windowless walls, be under an empty sky, nothing around her except plants and real life dinosaurs.

Anthony stopped in the middle of a bar. Kate wanted to beg him to continue but he looked embarrassed, like he hadn’t intended to expose his soul to her. Kate discretely wiped her eyes but she thought Anthony might have seen her anyway.

—

The laboratory was a only short drive from the visitor center but still very much ‘backstage’ behind a cleverly arranged thicket of trees which stopped it being viewable from the main paths. Unlike the friendly visitor center it was an intimidating building, harsh chrome fixings interspersed with windows so reflective that Anthony couldn’t see through them at all.

Inside was no different, clinical white walls, impossibly clean floors. Agatha’s cane rhythmically clacked on the floor like a horse heralding the arrival of a knight. Anthony’s own expensive loafers squeaked with every step, making him wince. Only Dr Sharma moved silently, like Lara Croft was raiding a genetic laboratory.

A smiley, peppy young woman called Sophie instructed them to don white lab coats and change from their usual shoes (squeaky or silent) to mismatched, slightly-too-small crocs. In case they tracked in disease on their shoes, apparently. Dr Sharma was also told to tie her hair up and Anthony could barely take his eyes off her as she scooped handfuls of curly hair on top of her head, exposing her long, slender neck. As she secured her hair in a bun, he wondered how it would feel to drag his lips up and down her neck or to thread his own fingers through that soft curly hair…

Fucking hell, what was wrong with him? He’d only met her that day and she had made it very clear she wanted nothing like that from him. He closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to look at her but that made it worse because now, robbed of the sight of her, he could only focus on her scent, floral yet powerful, so intoxicating that he took a step towards her, eyes still closed. The shock of his own action caused him to open his eyes and he frantically looked around to rest his gaze on anyone except Dr Sharma, only to catch Agatha’s eye, who looked at him like she knew all his secrets.

Despite the clinical emptiness of the entrance room, the main lab was thriving with people. About fifty scientists in white lab coats, all bustling around, some pipetting strange liquids under fume hoods, others cataloguing the contents of an enormous freezer set against the wall, yet others operating complicated-looking machinery that spun and whirred and beeped.

Although he had promised himself he wouldn’t stare at her any more, Anthony couldn’t help but chance a look at Dr Sharma. He was glad he did, she looked like a child in a sweet shop, looking every which way like she couldn’t decide what to spend her attention on first. She was smiling and Anthony couldn’t help but match it with his own.

The largest gathering of scientists was around a small table in the middle of the room. They parted as the three of them approached, save for one scientist who was peering intently at a large ellipsoid object nestled in a pile of leaves.

“How is it coming along?” said Agatha, in a much softer voice than Anthony had ever heard from her.

“You’re just in time,” murmured the scientist, who Agatha quickly introduced to them as Dr Cho, her head scientist, “The internal tremors have been increasing. According to our calculations, it should be any moment now.”

A reverent hush descended on the group. Even elsewhere in the lab, the other scientists stopped what they were doing and looked over or gathered closer to their little table. Anthony looked at Dr Sharma again, she was transfixed by the strange object on the table. With no small degree of difficulty, Anthony looked away from her and at the egg.

Because that’s what it was. Larger than any egg Anthony had ever seen before but still unmistakable. As he watched, the egg trembled and shook, vibrating more and more with the life force within it. When a crack appeared in the shell he unconsciously leaned forward and then a miracle occurred.

From within the dark abyss of the egg, a pointy snout pushed itself between the jagged edges of the eggshell. The snout was followed by a face, then sharp claws widened the crack until the rest of the shell splintered and fell away to reveal a baby dinosaur, as tiny and as perfect as any baby Anthony had ever seen before.

The baby took its first yawn, the cuteness not at all belied by its sharp teeth. After yawning it licked its chops, not unlike a dog, and looked sleepily around before its gaze landed on Anthony. Then it gave a dreamy sigh and took its first uncertain steps towards him.

Anthony already had one arm outstretched before he realized and hurriedly pulled it back in case he hurt the little dinosaur. Or, to a lesser extent, in case it hurt him. But Agatha smiled at him and before Anthony knew what was happening, the dinosaur was in his arms and he was cradling it the same way he had cradled every last one of his brothers and sisters on the day they were born.

“Happy birth-day, little one,” he said and the baby looked up at him lovingly, as though it understood every word he said. Anthony smiled back, it was was as perfect as any baby and Anthony marveled at the little miracle, the caramel-scented head with intelligent eyes, the perfectly formed three fingers and four toes, the adorable tail that it was chewing on, similar to how Hyacinth would chew on the edge of her blanket when she was a baby.

“Have you thought of a name, Dr Cho?” asked Agatha.

“We have the formal name documented,” said Dr Cho, “But maybe your friend would like the honor of choosing an informal name.”

“Formal? Informal?” asked Dr Sharma.

“Similar to racehorses or show dogs,” said Dr Cho, “The formal name denotes the specimen’s lineage so we can keep track of the genetic lines. They also all have informal names which is what we actually call them by.”

“I see,” said Agatha, “Well then Lord Bridgerton?”

“Newton,” said Anthony.

He had been thinking about a name since the moment it had taken its first steps towards him. Surprisingly heavy when compared to a human child, a little more scaly perhaps but still a living, sentient being. Still something that needed a name?”

“After Isaac Newton?” said Agatha, “The scientist who discovered gravity and calculus and didn’t have much to do with dinosaurs?”

“That’s not what I was thinking,” said Anthony, “More that this is a new dinosaur, a baby, a tiny thing that’s going to grow up and weigh a ton.”

“Not quite a ton!” said Dr Cho cheerfully. “Velociraptors only reach twenty kilograms at most as an adult.”

Anthony scowled. “I still think Newton is a good name.”

“I agree,” said Dr Sharma, speaking for the first time since they entered the lab, “I think it suits him.”

Anthony was surprised. He was expecting her to scoff at the name, at least to vex him if for no other reason. But Dr Sharma was gazing at Newton with the same loving affection that Anthony could feel in his own heart. He wondered if Dr Sharma was a mother. He wondered who had been the first person except her to hold her baby.

“Her,” said Dr Cho, unwittingly interrupting Anthony’s musings, “All of our specimens are female.”

Dr Sharma looked pointedly at the eggshell fragments.

“We keep a stock of frozen sperm but we ensure that all fertilized eggs are female.”

“How?"

“We have a stock of frozen sperm for each species,” said Agatha, “We artificially fertilize the eggs and keep track of the genetic lineage that way.”

“What contingency plans do you have if something goes wrong?” said Dr Sharma.

“All of our keepers are armed-”

“I don’t mean out there,” said Dr Sharma, gesturing vaguely to the door, “I mean in here. Genes can be unstable-”

Dr Cho rolled his eyes and grinned at Anthony as though he was on his side. Anthony didn’t like that.

“Maybe you should listen to Dr Sharma-”

“It’s fine,” said Dr Cho, “We’re highly trained scientists. We know what we’re doing.”

“So is Dr Sharma,” Anthony snapped, “She’s not here as my guest, she’s a veterinarian. She’s here in her own professional capacity. She’s here to work with you.”

Dr Cho made a face like he was sucking on a lemon.

“Well perhaps we can catch up at a later date,” he said, “Or maybe Dr Sharma can send me an email. We can give her concerns the attention they deserve.”

Anthony opened his mouth to rebut that very transparent dismissal but Dr Sharma simply said, “Thank you,” in a tone that made it quite clear that she did not want to discuss the matter further.

Anthony wondered if he had overstepped.

–

“I apologize that the staff accommodation is not yet completed,” said Agatha when they were back in the jeep, “Kate, they will of course be finished by the time Jurassic Park is opened to the public. Or at least habitable. In the meantime, everyone has been residing at the Grand Pangaea. Of course, you would be staying there in any case, Anthony.”

“That sounds lovely, Agatha,” said Anthony, grateful that she hadn’t called him Lord Bridgerton. He chanced a glance at Kate on the back seat next to him but she didn’t respond to Agatha at all and continued to stare out of the Jeep window. Anthony’s intestines twisted, maybe he should have stood up for her more.

“There is one slight snag,” said Agatha, “Not really a problem of course but something that will affect your stay. When it is open the Grand Pangaea will have one hundred and fifty rooms. However not all of them are furnished at the present time. We have the presidential suite still unoccupied but that is the only one that is unoccupied but still furnished.”

It took Anthony a moment to parse Agatha’s meaning. When he did, he turned to Dr Sharma, expecting to exchange an incredulous look with her. But she continued to stare out of the window.

“You mean to say Dr Sharma and I will be sharing a room? Agatha, be serious, we do not know each other! We only met today!”

“You will share a suite not a room,” sniffed Agatha, “The Presidential Suite has two ensuite bedrooms leading off a combined living/dining room. You and Dr Sharma can take a bedroom each. Isolate yourself until morning if you are concerned for her virtue, Lord Bridgerton.”

Anthony felt his face grow red. Again, he looked at Dr Sharma. Again, she didn’t look back.

“As you wish, Agatha,” said Anthony, his chest feeling strangely hollow.

—

The jeep could not contain the complexity of Kate’s emotions. Like hot, thick, humid air, they expanded to fill the space, collided with the roof, and threatened to push up and through and out. Her legs twitched with nervous energy, her fists clenched in her lap and she directed all her concentration into looking out at the lush vegetation that lined the road so that she wouldn’t do something stupid like get out of the jeep and run as far as her legs could carry her. Or scream. Or climb Anthony Bridgerton like a tree.

She had not seen this coming. In truth she had not seen any part of this day coming but she certainly hadn’t predicted that her feelings towards Anthony would change quite so much and in this way. She hadn’t thought much of him at the airport. A sexist man who substituted a personality for wealth, what else was new? His focus on numbers and finances before they had even taken off had been grating.

But then they’d seen the dinosaurs. And it was like nothing else had mattered, not the endless treadmill of post docs, not her claustrophobic life in a tiny flat above a kebab shop, not her incurable loneliness. Only these magnificent creatures mattered and she knew, as soon as Anthony had seen them he’d agreed. And then he’d sung that tune, a melody full of haunting wonder and she’d felt the ice wall between them melt.

But it was the way he’d cradled Newton that had really made her ovaries explode. The way he’d been unafraid of a velociraptor, the way he’d held a baby dinosaur like a baby human, as though he’d done this a million times before. Maybe he had, Kate thought, her fists clenching tighter. Maybe he was a father. Maybe he had a whole family at home that he’d left behind to come on this work trip.

It was not only the thought of a man she was very attracted to having a wife and kids that was leaving her on edge. When Agatha had told her the job would be as a vet to real-life dinosaurs, Kate had accepted without quite believing the full scope of what Agatha was telling her. She thought, at best, there would be some cells in a petri dish that were technically dinosaur derived and maybe she’d advise on their hypothetical physiology. She had not expected the real McCoy walking about like they owned the place. And at that size, they probably did. She wondered if Agatha appreciated that. She knew Dr Cho didn’t.

Kate clenched her fist again until she could feel her nails piercing the flesh of her hand. As sweet as Newton had been he was still a dinosaur and a carnivorous one at that. Anthony Bridgerton seemed to put Dr Cho’s reluctance to discuss contingency plans and fail safes down to sexism but Kate wondered if it was simply because they didn’t have one and they had chosen to put all their eggs (as it were) into one strategy.

There’s something that I’m missing, Kate thought as the Jeep pulled into the driveway of the hotel and Kate’s first sight of the Grand Pangaea made her forget everything.

It looked like a cross between a cathedral and a stately home. A wide building built with gray brick that glowed pink in the setting sun. The middle floors were beset with round windows and on the roof were domed towers, each one with a light gold roof of its own. Against the outside wall were pillars of varying heights; some went up the entire length of the hotel, others went half-way or a third of the way up. At first glance Kate thought each pillar was topped with a stone grotesque but when she looked closer she saw that they were actually statues of dinosaurs.

Inside, the lobby did nothing to help Kate regain her breath. It was enormous, with marble pillars and archways, crystal chandeliers and thick red carpet. When Kate looked closer, she saw the pattern of the carpet resembled the vegetation outside, plants not seen for millions of years miraculously brought back from the dead so Agatha’s precious animals could have something to eat.

—

The presidential suite was vast, Agatha had been telling the truth there. The front door opened out onto the sitting room. The left wall and the right wall each had a mahogany door that presumably each led to a bedroom. The sitting room had the same carpet as the lobby but instead of marble pillars there were floor lamps as tall as he was, the golden stand sculpted to resemble a diplodocus on its hind legs. Instead of the red waiting-room chairs downstairs there were two of the comfiest sofas Anthony had ever seen arranged perpendicular to each other and one facing an enormous wall mounted TV beneath which was a generously stocked minibar. The wall opposite the main entrance was entirely taken up by huge French doors that led out to a balcony with a view that stretched towards the horizon.

Their suitcases were next to the door, having been brought up to their suite from that death-trap of a plane (Anthony still hadn’t got over it). Dr Sharma picked up her carry-on and her larger suitcase and cast an amused eye over Anthony’s six Rimowas.

“Do you need any help?” she asked.

Anthony would sooner have walked into a nest of fully-grown velociraptors than shown any weakness in front of Dr Sharma so he shook his head, mumbled something along the lines of, “I’m good thanks,” and just about had the presence of mind to take his suitcases to his room two at a time instead of all at once.

The bedroom was decorated similarly to the sitting room, same carpet, same paneled walls, but the bedside lamps were in the shape of pterodactyls between which was an enormous bed with crisp white sheets.

Anthony searched one of his Rimowas for his toiletries bag and his travel laundry basket. He set up the basket, shed his clothes and went into one of the most luxurious hotel bathrooms he’d ever seen, and that was saying something for him.

There was a clawfoot bath, big enough to fit two people, a separate walk-in shower with both a rainfall shower head and a separate detachable shower, a Japanese-style lavatory with multiple bidet and flush functions and a double sink with two LED mirrors.

Anthony set his toothbrush and toothpaste next to one sink, and his shaving stuff next to the other, then groaned when he realized he’d left his shower gel at home. Fortunately the bathroom was well stocked with gels and shampoos and more lotions and potions than he’d ever know what to do with. He showered the day’s sweat off with a vanilla-scented shower gel, shaved his five o’ clock stubble off, changed into gray sweatpants and a dark gray T-Shirt and emerged into an empty sitting room.

Anthony could hear the muffled sounds of a hairdryer coming from Dr Sharma’s room. He walked over to the minibar, took out a couple of the whisky miniatures and, after much deliberation, two of the glasses and settled himself on one of the chairs on the balcony.

He didn’t have to wait long before Dr Sharma joined him. She was freshly showered too, her curls mostly dry except for the ends, her Tomb Raider-style cargo shorts and tank top replaced by a purple silk pajama set. He had a sudden realization that this suite would be the kind of place where newlyweds would stay on their honeymoon.

“Want a drink, Dr Sharma?” said Anthony, waggling one of the miniatures at her. She smiled and he felt his stomach swoop.

“You don’t have to keep calling me Dr Sharma you know,” she said, sitting down next to him, enveloping him in a cloud of floral scent. Lilies, he thought, “Kate is fine. And, yeah, thanks, a drink would be nice.”

“No problem, Kate” he said softly, pouring her a measure of Glenmorangie. Her name felt nice in his mouth and he wanted to say it again, KateKateKate, turn it over with his tongue until- he cleared his throat sharply. Dear Lord, he needed to get a grip on himself- no not like that!

“It’s going to be difficult to adjust to the staff accommodation when this place opens properly,” said Kate, apparently oblivious to his inner turmoil, “But I suppose you stay in places like this all the time.”

He looked at her sharply. The digs at his wealth had become less frequent and he thought that perhaps she was warming to him. But by the look on her face, it was still possible that was the case. Her mouth was twisted into a half smile and her eyes were sparkling with such mirth that he couldn’t help but smile with her.

“I’ve stayed in nice hotels, yes,” Anthony said, immensely gratified that Kate immediately laughed at his ridiculous confession and muttered, “Knew it,” under her breath, “But not usually in presidential suites and nowhere quite like this,” he continued, gesturing at the view in front of them and they both went quiet.

There was simply nothing like it. Every time Anthony looked out at the view and he was reminded of where he was, his breath was taken away all over again.

They were above the tree line, a foot above a carpet of trees that had not seen the sky in millions of years now bathed in twenty-first century moonlight, rippling over the treetops like a sliver lake. Here and there were brachiosaurus peeking above the tree line, their impossible existence silhouetted against the full moon.

“How do you know Agatha?” said Anthony, his voice still hushed, “I get the feeling that a job like this isn’t something you find online.”

“She turned up in my flat and wouldn’t leave until I accepted the job,” said Kate, “But before then she worked with my dad when they were both on sabbatical in Australia. My dad was in zoology rather than paleontology but they collaborated on a research project looking at chromosomal inheritance in monotreme mammals.”

“In- what?” said Anthony, completely lost.

“Monotreme mammals, like platypuses,” she said, laughing, “Did you know when platypus sperm undergoes meiosis, it splits into XXXXX and YYYYY instead of just X and Y like in humans? Except for intersex gametes, obviously.”

Anthony could honestly say he did not know that and had genuinely never even thought about it.

“Is your dad still in Australia? Oh wait, you said sabbatical?”

“Ah- no,” said Kate, her face falling in a way that was instantly familiar. He had felt it on his own face a million times, “He died when I was fifteen.”

“I’m so sorry,” Anthony said, the words feeling inadequate. He had heard it so often himself both from people who meant it and people were just giving empty platitudes that he was sick of the phrase. But Kate gave a small smile.

“You’re in the same boat, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Anthony, “My father died when I was nineteen.”

“Ah,” said Kate, “I’m sorry too.”

“Thanks,” said Anthony with a humorless chuckle, “We can talk about something else if you want.”

Kate shrugged.

“I don't know. It’s nice talking about him. So many people talk about him in hushed whispers, like loss is contagious or something. It’s like losing him again.”

Anthony nodded. He knew exactly what she meant.

“Do you want to talk about him with me?”

Kate took a sip of her whisky and nodded.

“You’re right, he was in Australia on sabbatical. He was from India originally but went to university in London first, then Durham. He went from undergraduate student to professor in twelve years. When he was in Australia he met my mum who was a wildlife photographer. Her dream was to make an on-the-road nature documentary series, travelling all over the world, seeking out all different kinds of animals to film and teach people about. They made it happen, my dad was the host and my mum filmed it. Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” said Anthony but he could feel a shit-eating grin growing on his face, in sync with Kate’s own begrudging smile.

“That it reminds you of a certain cartoon from our childhood.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Anthony whilst Kate giggled, “We didn’t get Nickelodeon in our house.”

Kate laughed so hard she choked on her whiskey.

“Appa looked a bit like an Indian Nigel Thornberry,” she giggled, “Massive seventies moustache and everything.”

Anthony laughed with her, honored that she was comfortable enough that she could share this with him.

“It was nice while it lasted,” said Kate, her laughter ceasing, her face growing more serious, “They died together in Borneo when we were trying to get to safety during a storm. Our car crashed into a tree. I survived without a scratch but they didn’t. Amma was from Tamil Nadu originally but she was a British citizen when I was born so I ended up in the UK with relatives and I’ve been there ever since. Well, until now I guess.”

Her voice trailed off. Anthony resisted the urge to reach for her hand or to say that he was sorry again.

“Anyway that’s enough of my life story,” said Kate, in a no-nonsense voice, “How do you know Agatha? I got the feeling you and her go way back.”

“I’ve known her my whole life,” said Anthony, taking a sip of his whiskey, “She was my father’s PhD supervisor back in the day.”

Kate gave a start.

“I should have put it together before,” she said, “Edmund Bridgerton right? I never knew him but I’ve cited some of his work. No, scratch that, I’ve cited loads of his work.”

Anthony’s heart swelled. Edmund had felt great turmoil when he’d quit his career in paleontology to take up the family business. Daphne had just been born and he felt that he could better support a wife and four children as a venture capitalist rather than an academic, and was proven so correct that his parents had subsequently had four more children. But Anthony knew he’d never quite let go of the idea of having a legacy and that was why one of Edmund’s first investments had been in Jurassic Park back when Agatha was still seeking funding.

But when he said that out loud, Kate frowned.

“Surely his legacy is you and your siblings, right? And I guess in-laws and grandchildren and stuff like that.”

“I suppose,” said Anthony, trailing off as he thought. Edmund had always been a family man. He loved being a father, “Only my sister Daphne has the in-laws though. And the next generation.”

“Oh,” said Kate in a tone he couldn’t quite place, “So it’s just you then.”

“Well, and my mother and my siblings,” said Anthony, puzzled. What was Kate getting at?

“Thank you for defending me in the lab today,” said Kate, and the change of subject almost made Anthony dizzy except she was speaking so softly that he was drawn into the soft melody of her voice, like a lullaby.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, then remembered something he had been meaning to ask her, “Hey what did you mean when you said that genes could be unstable?”

Kate said nothing. For a moment, Anthony thought that she hadn’t heard him and he was about to repeat himself when she took her hand in his.

Her skin was warm and smooth and she held him so gently that Anthony thought he might cry at the care she was showing him. Nevertheless he held it in and watched, wide-eyed as Kate dipped her fingers in the remains of the whiskey and flicked a drop onto the back of his hand.

“Watch,” she whispered, and he obeyed, transfixed as the whiskey droplet slid towards his wrist and down his arm.

“Watch again,” said Kate, flicking another drop onto his hand. The drop was cold against his skin and he found himself longing for Kate’s lips to warm him.

“See how it flows in a different direction?” she said, and he did, the whiskey moved over the front of his hand this time and between his knuckles.

“Yeah. What does it mean?” said Anthony. He had never paid so much attention to a science lesson before.

“Some chaos theorist used this to flirt with me back at university, saying the direction of flow can be predicted to a certain extent but there are all these confounding variables that make it impossible to predict completely accurately. The analogy to this morning in the lab is that you can’t predict exactly what genes will do. It’s why it worries me that no one seems worried about this.”

“You shouldn’t let it go, if it’s worrying you. Send an email to Cho or whatever, but make sure they listen to you. I’ll help in whatever way I can.”

“Thank you,” said Kate. She was still holding his hand.

Anthony’s mind finally doubled back on itself and tripped on something Kate had just said.

“Someone used this to flirt with you?”

Kate smirked and Anthony’s heart started beating wildly.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Are you… flirting with me now?”

“I am. Is that alright?”

“I- yeah. It’s more than alright.”

“Good,” said Kate, and she lifted his hand up to her mouth. For a moment Anthony thought she would kiss it, like he was a king and she was a knight or something but instead she licked it, ran her tongue from wrist to knuckle, then took his finger in her mouth.

Anthony gasped at the feel of her lips and tongue around his finger and the drag of her teeth against his skin. She stared into his eyes as she sucked and he stroked the underside of her chin with his thumb and it was all he could do to stay focused, nothing in the rest of the universe existed except the hot, wet interior of Kate's mouth.

When she pushed his finger out of her mouth with her tongue, he held his hand there, thumb against her cheek, finger against her lips. Kate held herself still in his grip. Her eyes seemed to be saying, your turn.

He held her face in place and leaned forward until his lips were inches away from hers. Her breath was warm and sweet against his lips and he hovered there as long as he dared until he could bear it no longer and he kissed her.

Kate responded instantly, deepening the kiss, bringing her hands up to Anthony’s face. He groaned into her mouth, the way she was compressing his head was sending all the blood rushing to a certain part of his body. The rest of him moved on instinct, he dragged his fingers down Kate’s neck and caressed the neckline of her pajama top. He was fingering the topmost button, wondering if it would be too forward to undress her right here on the balcony when she pulled her lips away but continued to hold his dazed face in her hands.

“Bedroom,” she whispered and Anthony nodded as hard as he could without being able to properly move his head.

—

Seducing Anthony Bridgerton had been one of the better decisions Kate had made. He pushed her into her bedroom with a single-mindedness that made her knees so weak she stumbled. That was not a problem for Anthony who wrapped his arm around her waist tight enough that she knew she’d never fall.

“I want you,” he whispered in between kisses to her neck, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, “I want you so badly, you have no idea,”

“I have some idea,” Kate said, thrusting her hips forward so her core was grazing Anthony’s hardness. He moaned into her hair.

“Fuck, Kate,” he whispered, his voice as shaky as his fingers which were now trying to undo the buttons of her pajama top. His mouth returned to hers, like he was anchoring himself. The hand undoing her buttons grew steadier and he undid them with ease. When he reached the last one he broke away.

He peeled back one side of her pajama top. Kate never slept in a bra and she watched Anthony’s mouth fall open as he revealed her breast. He slipped the silk over her shoulder then trailed his fingers over her skin, down the teardrop of her breast. Kate gasped involuntarily when Anthony reached her nipple, circling it with the pad of his thumb then flicking it with his index finger. Kate moaned and curled her body instinctively around Anthony’s, almost falling again as he flicked and squeezed and groped.

“Let’s get you into bed,” Anthony murmured in her ear. Kate let herself be led to her massive bed and Anthony laid her down carefully, like she was something precious.

She quivered under his gaze, shook as his starving eyes raked up and down her body. She wondered if it was possible to come just from being stared at but then Anthony hooked his thumbs under the waistband of her payjama pants and slowly drew them down.

“I can’t tell,” Kate said as the satin skated slowly down her legs, “If you’re a boob or leg man.”

“Hmm?” said Anthony, distracted. Kate hadn’t worn panties either.

“Like how most men have a preference,” said Kate shakily, “You went for my boobs first but the way you’re undressing me now…”

Anthony chuckled as he slipped Kate’s pants over her ankles and threw them on the floor. He nudged her legs apart and settled himself between them.

“You do have gorgeous legs,” he murmured into her skin. Kate shivered as he kissed the inside of her ankle then dragged his tongue along her skin, up to her knee. He then switched to her other leg and peppered the inside of her thigh with light butterfly-like kisses.

“And divine breasts,” he continued, reaching up to cover the entirety of her boob with his palm. Kate writhed as he massaged her flesh.

“I’m sure you have a fantastic ass too,” Anthony said, running a finger between the junction of Kate’s skin and the bed. Kate was about to lift her hips up to give him better access but then he abruptly took his hands off her and put one hand on each knee instead.

Kate watched him breathlessly as he slowly spread her knees apart until each one was touching the bed. Anthony’s eyes were no longer caressing her body, instead he was staring at a particular part of her body.

“None of the above, Kate,” he panted, “I’m not a boob, legs or ass man.”

“Oh?”

Anthony slid up the bed on his chest. Kate was pinned to the bed by both Anthony’s hands on her knees and his breath on her-

“I’m a cunt man.”

Kate shouted out loud when she felt Anthony’s tongue swipe between her labia. He paused at her clit, then removed his tongue. Kate almost screamed, this time in frustration.

“Do not stop!” she cried, clamping Anthony’s head in face with her thighs. Anthony groaned and dove back in.

Kate was in ecstasy. Anthony’s smooth cheeks against her thighs married deliciously with his slick tongue within her folds. She clamped her thighs tighter against his fact and he became more frenzied against her clit, so much so that Kate bucked her hips upwards, fucking his face. Anthony held her hips up by putting his hands on the globes of her ass and before Kate knew it, she was coming, flooding his face with fluid.

Anthony lowered her down gently. Kate laid there panting. He braced himself above her, chuckling softly as Kate tried to catch her breath.

“How did I do, Dr Sharma?” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Kate had had just about enough of Lord Bridgerton’s smugness and wrapped her legs around his waist. Then she flipped him over so he was on his back and she was straddling him.

“Fuck,” Anthony breathed. Kate shrugged off her pajama shirt and cast an appraising eye over Anthony’s outfit.

He gulped.

“Did you know what you were doing when you came on to the balcony dressed in this?” she whispered, dragging her fingers over his soft jersey T-shirt.

“They’re just comfortable clothes,” he said. His pupils were so blown that Kate could see her reflection in just the black of his eyes.

“Come on now,” she said disdainfully. Anthony shivered and she took note, he liked that. “Gray sweatpants?”

“What about them?”

In answer, Kate dismounted from Anthony’s waist and ghosted her fingers over his crotch. She was barely touching him yet he shivered.

“They show the outline of your dick,” she said. Anthony was demonstrating beautifully, his pitched tent making shadows around it that made him look enormous. Kate traced the tent’s perimeter with the tip of her pinkie finger. Her survey showed it was likely not an illusion.

“I- I had no idea,” said Anthony gasping. In contrast to his move from earlier, Kate pulled his sweatpants down quickly. Anthony helped her by kicking them off his ankles and both of them ignored their fall to the floor.

“Wow,” Kate breathed. She hadn’t meant to say anything out loud, she did not think Anthony Bridgerton needed any ego boosting. But the smug look on his face was worth being able to see the sight before her. Unlike her, he wore underwear, black cotton briefs too small to contain him properly so his cock peeked out above a waistband that read ‘Giorgo Armani’ in white serif.

Kate decided he had been smug long enough. Without wasting any more time, she bent her head down until her lips were around the girth of his cock,

Anthony moaned as she mouthed him through the soft cotton. She did not take her eyes off his face, and indeed the smugness had gone, replaced by half-closed eyes and a mouth in the shape of an ‘O’.

Kate moved her mouth up his length, dampening his cotton briefs with her tongue. When her lips met the bare skin of his cock tip, Anthony’s ‘oh’ became audible and his eyes rolled back in his head. She reached up and dragged her thumb over his lower lip, then pushed it inside. Anthony gripped her thumb gently with his teeth whilst she used her other hand to pull down his briefs just enough to free his cock.

Kate was no longer under any illusions.

She took her thumb out of Anthony’s mouth and brought his hand down to place it in her hair. She rested her head on his firm stomach and wrapped her lips around his cock. Then she moved her head down further, taking more of his length into her mouth.

Anthony’s moan was music. She moved up and down according to how he pulled her hair, taking him deeper, then shallower, laving his length with her tongue each time she bobbed.

Kate’s jaw was aching when Anthony tapped her shoulder twice like a defeated wrestler. Immediately she removed herself, releasing his cock with a ‘pop’. She looked at Anthony confused, all signs suggested he had been enjoying himself. Even now he was lying back, his chest heaving, his brow sweating like he’d been running.

He caught her eye and grinned. Kate grinned back and Anthony sat up, kissing her passionately once he was within tongue’s length of her lips.

Kate responded enthusiastically, her mouth still mourning the departure of his cock but the taste of her earlier release on his tongue more than making up for it.

“Sorry to make you stop,” he murmured against her lips as he massaged her aching jaw, “But I was getting close and I don’t want to come just yet.”

“Oh?” said Kate, trying not to sound breathless and failing, “Where do you want to come?”

In answer, Anthony stroked her cunt. Kate hissed.

“Sorry,” said Anthony and he sounded genuine, “Are you still sensitive?”

“Sensitive but not sore,” said Kate lifting up his T-Shirt, “I can still take you.” She dragged his T-Shirt up over his head, Anthony helping her. He took his briefs and sweatpants off whilst she openly gawked at his body.

He had a fucking eight pack. No wonder she had felt so supported whilst she was blowing him. She stroked down his abs, marvelling at how rock-solid they were. Anthony hissed at her touch. She ran her fingers up again, up his chest and pushed his shoulders. She did not have to push down hard, he went to the bed, soft and compliant and willing.

“I have condoms,” she said quietly, straddling him and opening the drawer of her bedside table. Anthony could do nothing other than lie there, completely at her mercy, breathless as she ripped open the foil packed and slid the condom over his length, then slid herself over his length.

Being fucked by Kate was the most extraordinary thing that had ever happened to him. She was a vision above him, her dark curly hair haloed around her head, her tits jiggling slightly as she moved up and down on him. He reached up and pinched her black nipple and she moaned, writhed against him deliciously and brought her own hand down to her clit.

“Fuck, Kate,” Anthony gasped. As Kate pleasured herself, he could feel her hand moving against the base of his cock. He moved with her, matching her thrust for thrust, moaning when she scratched her nails over his chest, squeezing her breasts harder when she went faster until he thought he could bear it no longer and said, “Kate, baby, I think I’m going to come.”

But Kate wasn’t listening. Her own orgasm crashed over her like a storm. Her hands were on her breasts, in her hair as her hips stuttered, her canal clenched and her head thrown back, her mouth in a perfect ‘oh’ as she gasped, screamed, moaned. Anthony couldn’t help but follow her, spilling into her, and they both came down together. He wrapped his arms around her, held her as he softened and pulled out of her.

When he came back to bed after disposing of the condom, Kate was already asleep.

—

Anthony woke up disoriented, confused and alone.

He peered around the room. It was bathed in the glow of the morning sunshine but it was definitely empty. And silent; no sound of running water from the shower, no movement from the main room. As though to prove it to himself, Anthony got out of bed (Kate’s bed, he realized belatedly) and checked every room in the suite.

She was not there.

Their clothes had been picked up off the floor and his gray ensemble was in his own room, in his travel laundry basket. Had Kate done that? Anthony was troubled as he shaved. Had something happened to her?

His shower did nothing to calm him. The hotel shower gel, so inoffensive the night before, was overly sweet and cloying after a night of inhaling Kate’s floral scent. He dressed in his lightest clothes, which were still too warm for an island near Costa Rica, and headed down to the lobby.

There he was met by Agatha who gave him a croissant and polystyrene cup of tepid coffee.

“Have you seen Kate?” he asked, trying not to panic.

“Certainly,” said Agatha, raising her eyebrows. Clearly his tone had not been as calm as he’d thought, “At breakfast, in fact. Dr Sharma has never been one for a lie in. Now come along Anthony, we were waiting for you in the jeep and now we are running late.”

Anthony scowled. He shoved the croissant in his pocket and downed the coffee in one, before hurrying after Agatha to the jeep outside.

Kate was sitting in the passenger seat, next to Jon who would apparently be driving. She didn’t look up as he approached but Anthony thought he detected a certain stillness about her that suggested he knew she was there.

“Kate,” he said, desperate for her attention. Agatha whacked the back of his calves with her cane.

“You may chat with Dr Sharma later, Lord Bridgerton!” Anthony thought he’d done enough to antagonize Agatha for one morning, and at least he knew Kate was okay so he climbed into the back seat. He had barely fastened his seatbelt when Jon floored the taxi away from the hotel.

“Where exactly are we going?” he asked. He wondered if there had been some itinerary at this breakfast that he had slept through.

“Pay attention to the signposts,” said Jon, even though Anthony had been asking Kate but expecting Agatha to answer. He watched out for signposts anyway and as realization dawned on him, his sense of trepidation grew.

They were following signs to the carnivore zone.

Anthony knew there would be a carnivore zone. It had been one of the first sections marked on the original blueprint of Jurassic Park, even before the visitor center and hotels. The money-bringer. People wouldn’t come all the way to Jurassic Park for the gentle leaf-eaters, no matter how big.

If the others also felt a sense of impending doom, they did not show it. Jon especially was jovial as they pulled up next to a fifty-foot fence embellished with barbed wire at its top and a sign that said ‘DANGER! KEEP OUT!’ Anthony tried to peer through the fence to see what dinosaur was contained inside but he could not see anything other than a forest of tropical trees.

“Theo, my man!” said Jon, fist bumping someone that could not be much older than Eloise. Anthony nodded his head as he got out of the jeep and Theo gave them all a cheery wave.

“You’re just in time, Professor!” Theo said, “I thought you’d miss it!”

“We were delayed,” said Agatha, giving Anthony a withering look. Anthony was beginning to become irritated, it wasn’t his fault he’d woken up alone.

“Miss what?” said Kate. Anthony nearly closed his eyes, wanting to savor the sound of Kate’s voice, heard for the first time in ten hours.”

“Breakfast,” said Theo, rubbing his hands together like it was him that would be eating. Behind him, the trees in the enclosure rustled, even though there was no wind.

“We’ve eaten,” said Anthony, even though he hadn’t and his croissant was probably squashed flat in his pocket. Everyone except Kate laughed.

“Not you guys,” said Theo. He beckoned over his shoulder to whatever lurked in the enclosure, “These guys.”

—

Kate had barely eaten breakfast. The dining room that would eventually be a silver service restaurant was currently a lively staff area with everyone from scientists to keepers to cleaners lining up for grub and sitting strictly according to job role.

Kate sat alone, staring at her oatmeal. She had slept badly and gotten up as soon as it was vaguely light outside. She’d thought the reason she’d been feeling off kilter was because there was no dawn chorus but as much as Kate lived for the melody of the morning birds, it was something else.

Jurassic Park was unnerving her. The dinosaurs, as miraculous as they were, were not adapted to live in this time, never mind to co-exist peacefully with humans. Did Agatha really think that nothing would ever go wrong? In a world where everything seemed to go wrong sooner or later, with a staff that would not take her concerns seriously.

And now, as though to validate Kate’s anxieties, they were in the part of the park that was home to the most dangerous creatures on the planet. One faulty fence panel and they were dead, had Agatha thought about that? Kate eyed her. Judging by the way Agatha was watching the trees with rapt attention, it did not seem like it.

Just as Theo said, “these guys,” there was a metallic creaking sound that for a minute Kate thought was coming from inside the enclosure. Only when she noticed Anthony turning in the corner of her eye did she turn also, to see a crane rotating on its axis. In its jaws it carried a living, struggling, mooing cow.

Kate watched, dry-mouthed and heart-racing, as the crane brought the cow round so that the poor creature was dangling over the enclosure, its hooves skating over the treetops.

The crane stopped. The trees were still. There was a tense silence.

Then the crane opened its jaw. There was a powerful roar, so loud that everyone except Theo covered their ears. The cow screamed in terror for only a moment. It fell silent before it disappeared beneath the trees.

Kate was wide-eyed with horror. She tried to hide it but Theo had already noticed.

“It’s a carnivore, it has to eat meat!” said Theo mockingly, “It’s not any different to you eating a burger!”

“I happen to be vegetarian,” said Kate. She was still shaken. She knew she shouldn't apply her human morals to the animal world but the cow was of this time. Whatever dinosaur was behind the barb wired fence was here unnaturally.

“We are still workshopping how this zone is going to work,” said Agatha, more to Anthony than anyone else, “We know this particular dinosaur is going to be the main attraction but it is very frustrating that she is so obscured. We cannot let any humans be seen or she will get bloodlust so at the moment the cow above the trees is the best we can do. Any ideas would be most welcome.”

If anyone replied, Kate did not hear. Her ears were ringing, everything sounded muffled. She climbed back into the jeep slowly, like she was moving underwater. Agatha looked scornful.

“Do not fret, Kate,” she said mockingly, “We are headed to the vegetarian zone next.”

Jon laughed. Kate gave a tight lipped smile that grew tighter when Anthony said, “Leave her alone, Agatha.”

The dinosaurs were not the only miracle because Agatha did indeed leave Kate alone. They journeyed in silence down the dusty path until they came to a large dinosaur, long rather than tall, with thagomizers running from head to tail.

“Stegosaurus,” said Anthony. Kate ignored him.

“Is she sick?” she asked as she got out of the jeep and drew closer to the stegosaurus.

The poor thing was lying on her side, still except for the occasional blinking of her vacant eyes. Even her thagomizers were droopy. Kate knelt in front of her enormous head and gently stroked her muzzle. Seeing animals in distress never got any easier for Kate.

“Your first patient, Dr Sharma,” said Agatha, accepting Jon’s hand as she stepped down from the jeep, “We have timed your job-start well, Peggy gets sick every six weeks or so.”

“Like clockwork,” said a blond man with a smarmy smile. He was dressed in the same light brown shirt and dark brown shorts as Theo had been earlier, Kate surmised that this must be another keeper.

“Hey girl,” said Kate, continuing her stroke, “Hey Peggy. That’s a good name for a steg.”

Peggy blinked slowly.

“Kate, Anthony, this is Jim Fife. Fife, Kate is our new live-in veterinarian.”

Kate got to her feet.

“Sorry, where are my manners? Good to meet you, Fife. Could you tell me a little more about what’s going on with Peggy?”

But Fife wasn’t looking at her. He was scowling at Agatha.

“What’s the point of this? Peggy gets sick sometimes but she’s always fine after. We don’t need a vet!”

“If Peggy gets sick every six weeks, that’s worth investigating,” said Anthony, surprising Kate. She hadn’t been expecting to hear him speak, “What if you’re missing something? What if Peggy gets sick again and doesn’t get better?”

“Protecting your investment, Lord Bridgerton?” said Agatha smirking. Kate knelt back down next to Peggy, she didn’t know if Agatha meant the dinosaur or if she was insinuating that she was Anthony’s investment.

Kate was just about to assess Peggy’s pupil reflex when Jon hurried over to their little group from the jeep, his cell in hand.

“Professor, there’s a problem back at the Pangea,” he said. Agatha snatched the cell from his hand and snapped, “Danbury!” into it. There were a few moments of silence then Agatha scowled and ended the call without saying anything further.

“Damn. We need to get back,” she said, tapping her cane on the ground in frustration, “Kate you can stay with the stegosaurus if you wish. Come along Anthony.”

“I’d rather stay with K- with Peggy if you don’t mind,” said Anthony, “I’m sure an extra pair of hands could be useful.”

Kate looked at Anthony in surprise but he was not looking at her at all. He was looking at Fife with some distaste.

“Well, if that’s alright with you, Kate,” said Agatha, climbing into the passenger seat as Jon started the engine. Fife can drop you back later once you’ve cured my precious Peggy.”

Kate didn’t watch them drive off. She studied Peggy, walked around her, tried to take in the entire picture.

“What do you think?” said Anthony after she completed her second circle.

“Um,” said Kate. Normally she thrived in new situations but right now she had never felt so out of her depth. She had never seen a living dinosaur before and now she was expected to diagnose her mystery illness and cure it? She had no idea how to examine this animal, only the vaguest idea behind its physiology and her knowledge of dinosaur anatomy was limited to bones.

Agatha was a miracle worker, that much was clear. And now it seemed Kate had to be one too.

So she went back to basics. ABCDE examination, right back from her first aid training. She then moved onto organ systems, respiratory first by pressing her ear up against Peggy’s chest, trying to hear for any suspicious breathing sounds. Cardiac was next but where were you supposed to hear heart sounds on a dinosaur? Did they even have the same heart valves as, say, a dog?

Her abdominal examination proved a little more illuminating. Peggy was clearly tender in her tummy, the most life she had shown was when Kate pressed a little hard just below her lowest centrum bone and Peggy had thrown her head back and roared, making everyone jump. Kate wondered if it had been something she’d eaten. Had there been a miscalculation in the paleo-botany of the island?

Before she could voice this, however, dark clouds drew overhead. Fife didn’t seem particularly bothered, Kate guessed that his job meant that he expected to be outside in all weathers. Anthony looked concerned.

“I’ve heard that tropical storms can come on very suddenly,” he said, frowning at the sky, “I don’t suppose anyone saw a weather report today?

“Storm?” said Kate faintly.

“It should blow over soon,” said Fife dismissively, “Much like Peggy’s so-called illness. I think she’s faking it personally.”

“How can a dinosaur be faking it?” said Anthony at the same time that Kate said, “Shouldn’t we head back?”

Fife scoffed.

“If you’re scared of a little rain, you won’t last very long here. You can hide in the jeep if you want,” he sneered, pointing at the jeep that Kate assumed he had driven to the herbivore zone himself.

“Hey wait a minute,” said Anthony, taking a step towards him. But before he could say or do anything else, the radio Fife kept clipped to his belt buzzed into life with a buzz of static.

“Mayday! Mayday! Come in all units! This is a Mayday call from Theo in the carnivore zo-”

The radio went dead.

“Shit!” exclaimed Fife, “I think we’re the nearest. We have to go and help him.”

Kate was tempted to stay behind and carry on evaluating Peggy but she didn’t want to be stranded in the middle of an island with no transportation, not to mention she wanted to get out of the storm.

“We’ll come too,” said Kate, not missing the fleeting joy that flashed across Anthony’s face at Kate’s reference to the two of them as we.

As they sped away in Fife’s jeep, the rain started to fall. Kate tried to stay calm, rain usually only made her nervous, it was what followed after that would make her panic. And she had to have her wits about her for this mayday call. She did not like the way Theo’s radio had gone dead mid-sentence.

“Are you guys armed?” said Fife suddenly.

“No,” said Kate, “I’m still undergoing the onboarding process.”

“Danbury’s so fucking scatty,” sneered Fife, “And you guys are useless without guns. It’s like driving around with fresh meat.”

“Shut up, man,” snapped Anthony, “If we needed to be armed, we would be.”

“You’ll need to be. Hey vet girl,” he said and pulled open the glovebox in front of Kate, “Take that.”

There was a gun in the glovebox. Kate picked it up slowly. She had used guns before when working on the farm, but this was a whole new ball game.

A hush fell on the inside of the jeep. On the outside the rain and wind grew stronger. Kate watched as the trees bent under the force of the wind and prayed it would not get any worse than this.

“Fuck,” said Fife as they pulled up to the enclosure where they had been earlier that day, “Oh fuck, this is not good.”

“What is it?” said Anthony as they all got out of the Jeep but Kate saw it immediately.

There was a tear in the fence. Not all the way up and not an entire panel missing, but a big enough hole that something could have gone through, edges so jagged that Kate thought it had been torn rather than cut.

“Where’s Theo?” she asked, looking around, for signs of a struggle or better yet Theo himself.

“He’s probably already dead,” said Fife, taking out his radio, “Come in all units, this is a code red-”

A terrifying roar interrupted him. Anthony, Kate and Fife all turned around to see the worst possible sight.

About twelve feet long from crown to cauda with a head the size of Kate’s first car and teeth that could bite through rocks, the tyrannosaurus rex snarled at them, red blood between her yellow teeth, strands of brown thread tangled in her claws.

“GET IN THE JEEP!” Fife screamed and neither Kate nor Anthony argued as the T-rex roared again and shook the ground as it perused them. All three of them ran to the jeep, Anthony trying to do trigonometry in his head; if the jeep was ten meters away in this direction but the T-rex was fifty meters away in that direction and moving at the speed of a car on the highway, would they all make it?

Anthony was the first to the jeep. He wrenched open the door and made sure Kate got inside first. Then the world went terrifyingly still.

Anthony turned around. The tyrannosaurus had stopped running. In its jaws was Fife’s lifeless body. There was a sickening crunch of bone and splatter of blood on the ground as the dinosaur bit through Fife’s ribs.

“Anthony, let’s GO!” Kate screamed, pulling on his shirt. Anthony tore his gaze away and climbed into the jeep but he could still see it. He knew that if he didn’t die, if he got off this island alive, every time he closed his eyes he would see Fife’s gory end.

Kate had clambered into the driver’s seat. She turned the ignition key and slammed her foot on the accelerator before Anthony had closed the door properly.

They were barely away before the T-rex screeched again and the ground shook. Clearly the T-rex had not found Theo and Fife satiating. Anthony knelt on the back seats and looked out of the window.

In between the build up of rain, just after the wipers had wiped, he could see the dinosaur chasing after them. It was frightening, every time the wipers swung round, she would be significantly closer. Anthony started doing math again, how long did he have left to live? Could he stay alive long enough for Kate to get away?

“Put your seatbelt on!” yelled Kate as she took a particularly tight turn and Anthony was thrown into the door.

“Are you serious?” Anthony yelled back, completely unable to take his eyes off the impending predator.

“Do as I say!” she screamed. The rain grew heavier still, the wipers could no longer keep up, the T-rex was a blur behind the rain. Anthony gave up and obeyed Kate.

The ground shook, even as the car sped along the wet path. Anthony studied it, the amplitude was growing greater, the T-rex was getting closer.

There was a roar so loud that Anthony could feel it in his bones. The jeep was filled with the smell of bloody flesh and the sound of incoherent screeching although he could not say if it was him, Kate or the Jeep as it aquaplaned across a large puddle and collided with a tree.

Anthony was saved from being thrown forward by his seatbelt but he unbuckled it and climbed into the front seat.

“Kate!” he was frantic, panicked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said. Anthony surveyed her quickly, she looked physically uninjured but the inflated air bag was freaking him out and Kate looked shaken. He remembered then that her parents had died when their car had crashed into a tree. Had it been during a storm then too?

“We have to get out,” Kate whispered and Anthony hated how different it was from her earlier yelling, “I know the tyrannosaurus is nearby but-”

She was cut off by the car slowly imploding on itself. Anthony and Kate grabbed each other and held tight as the walls of the car came towards them, the metal occasionally punctured by the dinosaur’s teeth. Anthony retched. The smell was appalling, worse than blood, like rotting flesh and musty grass. He buried his face in Kate’s hair and tried to hold the ends under her nose.

The dinosaur squeezed her jaw further and the windscreen shattered. Anthony covered as much of Kate as he could with his own body, trying to protect her from the shards of broken glass. Kate shook in his arms but there was nothing more Anthony could do to save her, only stroke her hair, whisper in her ear, go to the end with her.

Then the dinosaur released them. The Jeep shook a little, then settled itself, fresh air and rainwater flowed in through the broken windows and tooth punctures. Anthony didn’t understand why but he wasn’t about to question it, instead unbuckling Kate and lifting her out of the wreckage.

Kate could barely walk. She was shivering, completely soaked through, and the consequences of not eating breakfast was beginning to catch up to her. But then Anthony grabbed her hand and the feeling of his strong, warm hand surrounding hers made her feel a little calmer.

“Let’s get out of here!” Anthony shouted over the wind and the rain. But Kate stopped him.

“Wait a moment. Look over there.”

She pointed towards their would-be killer, the tyrannosaurus that had played with them like a toddler at snack time then released them was staring at a copse of trees, head lowered and completely parallel with her tail, teeth bared, nostrils flaring. Whatever it was that had made the T-rex release them, it had also angered and frightened her.

It took Kate a moment to notice that the way the trees were moving was not because of the wind. They were shaking in short, sharp bursts, in unison. When Kate focused, she could hear an ominous thud thud beneath the howl of the wind.

‘Their’ T-rex, the one that had eaten Theo and Fife, and had almost eaten the two of them, let out an unholy roar. It was answered by the trees but not an echo. Bile rose in Kate’s throat as the trees parted to reveal another tyrannosaurus rex.

“There’s two of them?” Anthony screamed over the wind, “Kate, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

But Kate couldn’t move. As the two rexes squared up to each other, she was completely spellbound. She had never seen a dinosaur before yesterday nor a tyrannosaurus rex before today and now she was watching two stomp in circles around each other.

“Kate!” Anthony yelled, pulling at Kate’s hand.

The newcomer reared back on her hind legs and let out a roar so loud that Kate would not be surprised if it could be heard on the mainland. Then she pounced.

She smashed the other dinosaur to the ground with such force that Kate almost lost her balance. ‘Their’ dinosaur cried out and clamped her jaws around the others’ neck and whacked her with her tail.

“Kate, we have to get out of here! Now!”

As Kate watched blood spurt out of the dinosaur’s neck, she decided that she had seen enough. She started running, pulling Anthony behind her yelling, “let’s go!”

“That’s- that’s what I’ve been- okay fine, yes!” Anthony spluttered as they ran and ran and ran.

“Did you know there were two T-rexes?” she asked.

“No,” said Anthony, barely panting, “I don’t remember seeing anything about two in the documents I have. Did you? Did Agatha take you through all the dinosaurs in the park?”

“Nope,” said Kate through gritted teeth, “Nothing so useful. She- oh!”

There was a sickening crunch under Kate’s boots. She looked down at the light green goop and off white fragments and although she knew exactly what she was looking at, it took her a moment to correctly identify exactly why the sensation of absolute horror was spreading through her veins like ice.

“Are those… eggs?” said Anthony, crouching down.

“They’re breeding,” Kate whispered, horrified, “There are unauthorized, unaccounted for dinosaurs roaming out here. I knew I was missing something.”
“Oh my God,” said Anthony, eyes wide, hands shaking, “How? If they’re all female?”

Kate pulled Anthony to his feet.

“Come on. We have to find Agatha. And Cho.”

—

Kate blew into the empty lobby of the Grand Pangea like the storm outside, Anthony hurrying in her wake like a leaf in a hurricane. She gave a cursory look at her surroundings then threw her head back, not unlike the T-rex, and shouted at the top of her voice, “AGATHA!”

Professor Danbury’s name echoed off the marble floor and paneled walls. Anthony wondered if perhaps she had made a run for it, with or without her staff. But then he heard the clack clack of Agatha’s cane as she descended down the grand marble staircase.

Kate spared her only a glance before she threw her head back again and bellowed, “CHO!”

Anthony jumped again but Agatha did not hesitate and continued her dignified descent down the stairs.

“What is the meaning of this Dr Sharma? Why are you shouting in the middle of my hotel? Where is Fife? Did you attend Theo’s mayday?”

“Fife is dead,” said Kate coldly, “Theo almost certainly is too but we didn’t see his body. CHO! GET IN HERE!”

Agatha stumbled and Anthony thought that if she hadn’t been on the ground by then and had still been on the stairs, she might have fallen.

“Kate,” he said warningly.

“They’re dead?” whispered Agatha.

“CHO!”

“Stop shouting! I’m here!” said Dr Cho, running in from the dining room. Others followed him, some curious, some afraid. Even more people were coming down the staircase, craning their necks to see what the commotion was, “What’s going on? Jesus, did you walk here?”

“How do you make sure all the dinosaurs are female?” Kate demanded.

Cho hesitated, looking at Agatha presumably for guidance. She did not give it, instead lifting her chin high and staring Kate down in defiance.

Kate took out her gun, Fife’s gun from the glovebox, and pointed it at Cho.

“Jesus!” exclaimed Cho, throwing his hands up so they were at the level of his eye. Even Agatha was startled. Anthony ran forwards and was almost at Kate when Agatha said, “Don’t, Anthony. If the gun goes off whilst you’re struggling she might shoot you. Or herself.”

Anthony stopped. Agatha was right.

“Kate,” he said quietly, “Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Kate ignored him.

“Stop fobbing me off, Cho,” she growled, “Tell me how!”

“Jesus, okay, fine,” said Cho, shrill in his fear, “We artificially inseminate the dinosaurs when we want them to reproduce. And we have a stock of dinosaur sperm right? So we make sure that all the sperm we use will make females. No males.”

“Wait,” said Anthony, never taking his eyes off the gun in Kate’s hand, “I remember this from biology class in school. Eggs are always X, sperm is either X or Y. So If you only fertilize an egg with an X sperm-”

“You’ll always get female offspring,” said Cho, some of his pomposity returning, “Well, it’s not quite as simple as that, but we-”

“What qualifications do you have, Cho?” snapped Kate.

Cho bristled.

“I have a degree in Molecular Genetics from the University of-”

“Human molecular genetics, would that be?” said Kate harshly.

“Well I-”

“Non-mammalian animals don’t follow XY sex determination. You know that right?”

“I-”

“Tell him,” said Kate. She swung round and pointed her gun at Agatha, ignoring the shouts and exclamations from the others, “Tell him how it works in turtles, chickens, snakes and fucking dinosaurs, Agatha.”

For the first time, Agatha looked shaken.

“Kate, be reasonable-”

“TELL HIM,” Kate screamed.

“Kate, I know you’ve been through a lot-”

“ZW sex determination, Agatha! Not fucking XY! In mammals, it’s only the male gamete that determines because it’s the male offspring that have heterozygous chromosomes. In turtles, chickens, snakes and did I mention fucking dinosaurs, the female is heterozygous! The female is ZW, the male is ZZ! It’s the ovum that determines the fucking sex of the fucking baby!”

Anthony was completely lost.

“It’s not the sperm that chooses the sex of the offspring, is it Agatha? You can have all the Z sperm you want in your stupid fucking freezer, in fact it’s the only kind of sperm that exists for turtles, chickens, snakes and those fucking unnatural dinosaurs. You don’t sex-select the eggs, do you? You can’t, dinosaurs undergo in vivo fertilization. All the Z and W eggs in their ovaries, you can’t separate them, can you?”

“Kate calm down-”

“It’s not the fucking father that determines the sex, Agatha! Not in dinosaurs! It’s the mother!”

That, Anthony understood.

“Just put down the gun-”

“They are breeding out there, did you know that? We found eggs out there, Anthony and I. Peggy isn’t sick for no reason, she’s in pain every six weeks because she’s laying fertilized eggs!”

“Shit,” breathed Cho, “Fucking hell. I had no idea.”

Kate kept her gun pointed at Agatha. Anthony looked between them desperately, back and forth, like he was at the world’s worst tennis match. He didn’t know what to do, how to stop the standoff here, never mind the chaos outside.

“Kate, please, just put down the gun,” said Anthony, “We can talk this through. There must be something we can do.”

Kate lifted her gun higher so that it was pointed at Agatha’s head.

“Life finds a way, Agatha.”