Ian Malcolm yawned and leaned back against his chair with a languorous stretch of tensed limbs, hearing the sound of his jacket squeaking against the chair, leather on leather. He stretched his arms up behind his head, flexed his fingers, and glanced at the laptop in front of him, re-reading the last few sentences that he had written.
It didn't even make sense. It was just a bunch of random words. God, he was tired.
He had spent all day at the computer and was starting to get fairly drowsy. He hadn't taken a break in over 6 hours, not even for food.
Absently rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, Ian contemplated the bright side of all his hard work. It took his mind off things; he was making distinct headway with his lecture notes; and, had he been on a diet, he would have been doing really well. He chuckled to himself. Oh yeah, that was Ian through and through, always looking for the positive. The glass is half full and all that.
He shut down the system in front of him and brought down the screen of the laptop until he heard the closing click. He was quite surprised he had got it first time; he usually had trouble with it. And it wasn't that he was so out of touch with the modern world that he couldn't handle these new-fangled devices, oh no Ian was a modern thinker for sure. It just seemed that his laptop had decided to hate him is all.
And who could blame it? Like Ian, it had been working long solid hours for weeks. It deserved a break as much as he did - maybe a nice long holiday on a deserted beach. Little islands could be thoroughly enjoyable, so he had been told, although he suspected that most people hadn't experienced the long-time extinct creatures he had in their summer vacations.
He sighed. It wasn't even like Ian was a fan of beach holidays. Just the sand, the sun, the ocean – with his penchant for heavy, black clothing and his cripplingly short attention span it wouldn't be too long before he got so bored he would have to pull out his laptop and start working again.
An adventure holiday, then? Yeah, something to get the adrenaline pumping. Been there, done that and had been mildly surprised that the T-shirts weren't actually on sale. He laughed at the mental image of himself walking around in an 'I survived Jurassic Park' shirt.
Okay, so no... but maybe a nice trip abroad to a city or something? Visit galleries, go sightseeing, take in different cultures. He shook his head. He would never make a good tourist.
Fine then, a cruise? No, he didn't like travelling on sea.
"God," he muttered. "I'm such a miserable git,"
Ian shrugged it off. It wasn't like he even wanted to go anywhere just yet. He liked it where he was, and saw no reason to leave. He liked the element of travel in his field, delivering lectures, research leave, flying out to meetings, and generally going where his work was leading - it was a nice break. But he felt more at home San Diego. Besides at least he knew he was safe in the city from a rampant attack of genetically altered prehistoric creatures.
He acknowledged, ruefully, that if there was anybody who'd believe that last statement to be totally untrue, it would be him. After all he was the one who kept ranting on about Chaos Theory and if it meant anything at all (which it did, despite what numerous people had counter-argued) it was that nothing is predictable. Of course he - and most likely the rest of the city - would not expect to wake up the next morning to find the place overrun by raging dinosaurs, but then, he had never expected to find himself on an island full of them, either, but it had happened. A city attack, well, hey, it was possible.
A nagging voice hastened to remind him of the reasonably big difference between possible and probable. That would be the more logical side of his brain. The one that ruins all the fun.
Ian was snapped out of his musings when he heard the strident ringing of an alarm clock. He ran his right hand through his short, black hair in a frustrated manner. It was time to get up already.
He hadn't even managed to go to sleep.
It was hot.
I was really, really, unbelievably hot. Stiflingly so. On the horizon, the rippled image of an orange sun setting across a sandy desert plain was all that could be seen.
Dressed in a white shirt, manila jacket and beige shorts, Grant still found it unbearably hot. And he was used to hot. He spent a lot of time around hot places, and around desert areas. But still...
It was hot.
He was so dehydrated, too. When was the last time he had had something to drink? It wasn't that long ago, it couldn't be. Oh man, he couldn't even think straight. His mind was sort of ... distant and disorientated. He wasn't sure of a lot of things that he was sure he should be sure of. And he wasn't even sure about that. What he did know was that he had to find shade, in case he was suffering from mild sunstroke or something of the sort. Being out in weather like this was risking sunstroke, skin cancer and countless other things that Grant wasn't definite about. Oh yeah, he was living life on the edge.
He smiled as he saw a small makeshift camp area in the distance. Under the improvised cloth roof, was a set up of two circular, plastic tables with three white chairs either side. They looked like garden chairs he'd seen once at Ikea, and the thought of such a marker of Western consumerism out in the vast plains of the Gobi Desert made him grin.
As he approached the camp, Alan nodded a greeting at Ellie, who sat at one of the tables. Her blonde hair that was tied back from her face, and she was wearing a white T-shirt and camel coloured shorts. She was covered in golden-brown sand but didn't seem to notice or care. Grant smiled as she waved back and he withdrew a seat opposite her.
He slumped down on it with an exhausted sigh, creating a diminutive breeze that unfortunately only lasted a fraction of a second.
"It's hot," he stated. It was probably one of the only things that was on his mind at that particular moment.
"Yes." Ellie agreed.
There was a long silence as the two mulled over their separate thoughts. It wasn't an awkward silence, which was what Grant liked about being with Ellie. They never had awkward silences; their silences were more thoughtful, comfortable.
Grant slumped forward in his chair. The heat had absorbed all his energy and he felt like he could do nothing constructive anymore. He could barely think straight – he just wanted the night to come and bring in the cool. Unfortunately that wasn't what he was getting paid to do.
Not that Grant was in it for the money. In fact, the thought of making much money in the field of paleontology was somewhat laughable. You didn't don a trowel to pay off your mortgage – passion and enthusiasm was an absolute must. It had crossed Grant's mind to distance himself from digging up dinosaurs after his indisputably bad experience with the real things, but that didn't last long. He had to face it, dinosaurs were his life.
He ran that last sentence through his head again and frowned. He really was - as Ellie was want to tease him - such a loser.
"Are you glad to be taking a break?" Ellie said finally, breaking the silence.
"I don't know." He admitted. Though he had just been lamenting his predicament, he still did not want to leave. "There's so much I still have to do. Maybe I should just stay..."
Ellie fixed him a stern glare. "Now, come on, Alan. You should go, you deserve a rest."
"Well...it is pretty hot."
She smiled warmly. "Yes, it is."
"So you don't mind sticking around and sorting stuff out whilst I'm living it up in Costa Rica?" He asked sceptically. In his current state, he would have preferred a trip somewhere perhaps a little cooler. Like the Northern Territories.
"Trust me Alan, that's one of the last places I'd like to go." She answered earnestly.
"Yeah," he spoke quietly. "I suppose so."