Chapter Text
It was the window-rattling roar that woke Sansa up—right before sunrise, every morning, like clockwork.
Lady was reliable like that—that's what the Control Room techs called the aging T-Rex. She was an original, one of first animals from the old park, and she was Sansa's favorite.
Another blood-curdling roar, shorter but more impatient. It was feeding time and Lady wanted everyone to know it.
Sansa groaned, groping for her phone in the dark to check for any texts or emails. There were a few but nothing that needed to be dealt with right away. She turned her head and gazed out of her large bedroom windows. It was still dark out, stars twinkling with just a hint of sun over the ocean's horizon.
Another beautiful day in paradise. She smiled to herself. She would never get sick of that view, one of the perks of being Deputy Operations Manager—a pretty apartment on the top floor with an ocean view.
She got up, stretching, her back popping. She peeled off her pajamas then stumbled in the darkness looking for her running clothes. Minutes later, she was dressed with her hair pulled back, fiddling with her smartwatch and then she was out the door.
The air was already muggy when she stepped outside, smelling of salt water and island flowers. The birds weren't awake yet but the frogs were, croaking in that lulling way Sansa liked. She swatted a few bugs away as she walked through the apartment complex, slowly warming up her body for her run.
The complex was large and beige, housing most of the park's employees, less than a half mile west from the main resort and by the time Sansa made it to edge of the property her legs felt ready.
She took a left from the driveway and started her usual route, easing into a steady run along the rocky beach then up into a small, gravelly trail through the woods.
Four years ago, when Sansa arrived on the island, she could barely run two blocks but when the metabolism of her youth finally died down combined with her undying love for sweets and red wine along with an increasingly stressful job, she decided to listen to the advice of friends and try running.
She wasn't a natural athlete. In fact, her family still couldn't believe she ran daily—she could barely kick a ball without falling over but running didn't take any complicated coordination, just one foot over the other. And gradually, she built up to a five mile route that was enough to curb the nervous energy it took to manage a massive, dinosaur amusement park.
It was a smooth forty-five minutes of meandering through lush, green hills then alongside the towering electrified fences, catching glimpses of snoozing triceratops and groggy brontosauruses. This was another perk—worth the six, sometimes seven-day work weeks and the claustrophobia of living on a small resort island.
By the time she returned to her apartment, the sky was the color of grapefruit and the sounds of people stirring echoed across the complex's courtyard.
She was dripping with sweat. One thing she didn't like about running—she sweated more than a 300lb NFL linebacker training under the hot sun. After a solid minute of wrestling with her soaked sports bra, she jumped in the shower and began the arduous process of getting ready.
A non-perk of her job—she had to look professional and perfect for the many meetings she had with investors.
It's about presenting a flawless image, Cersei had told her in her cold and detached way.
After almost an hour, her makeup was natural but glowing and her long, red hair laid perfectly curled over her right shoulder. She stared at herself in the mirror and set her shoulders.
“I'm going to have a wonderful day,” she said aloud.
She took a deep breath.
“The meeting with Verizon will go great.”
She practiced her business smile—soft, serene and encouraging.
“Any problems that arise, I will be more than capable of handling.”
Her smile became forced.
“And today, Joffrey will be less of a dipshit than usual. And even if he isn't, I will still keep my cool and be professional.”
Then she scowled.
“God, I hate him.”
She straightened her back and went to her closet, carefully pulling on a light grey blazer and skirt, tailored to flatter her figure and still be all business but also light and roomy for the sweltering heat. She slipped on some tan heels and grabbed her bag, stuffing it with a water bottle, a banana and a couple of hard-boiled eggs. Maybe today was the day she could resist the donuts that always mysteriously appeared in the break room.
Probably not.
Sansa made a quick stop to the local coffeeshop and was the first to arrive at work—she usually was. After answering several emails and watering the dying jade plant in her office, she made her way to the Control Room.
The Control Room was large and dark with rows of curved tables with individual touch-screens built on the tabletop surfaces. Massive LED screens took up the front of room with the middle screen projecting a blinking map of the park. On the flanking screens, multiple images flickered of the park's web cams along with satellite weather imaging all organized in a neat patchwork layout.
Sansa greeted the night crew, asking about their families before reviewing the nightly reports. Thankfully, it was a quiet night—no power outages, no escapes and only one security altercation with a wandering drunk dude who tried to break in the Calf Corral to pet the baby dinosaurs.
A half hour later, she met up with her assistant, Jeyne, to go over any changes in her schedule then she put her head down and went to work.
Her morning went by quickly. After a team-building meeting with the herbivore veterinarians, then dealing with a broken egg incubator, and taking a five minute break to pet a baby triceratops, Sansa found herself escorting a couple of representatives from an East Coast hedge fund back to the elevators. She knew the younger man was on the verge of asking her out for drinks by the way his eyes lingered on her legs.
Ugh!
He hesitated as the elevator doors swung open. His gaze shifted down to her legs again. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to smile.
He cleared his throat. “So...I was wondering—”
She held out her hand. “It was very nice to meet you,” she said, with just enough sweetness to cut the firmness in her tone.
“Oh, uh, yes,” he mumbled, face red. He took her hand. “Nice to meet you too, Ms. Stark. I'll guess I'll...”
Dejected, he entered the elevator with his colleague. Sansa dropped her smile the moment the elevators closed on his face and marched to the break room for another cup of coffee.
God, if she had to deal with one more sleazy rep from another Fortune 500 company...Did they not have a functioning HR??
She pointedly ignored the donuts next to the coffee machine as she poured herself a cup.
“Sansa?”
Sansa turned. Jeyne stood in the doorway nervously. Sansa's heart dropped.
“Everything okay?” Sansa asked.
Jeyne blew out a breath. “It's Joffrey...”
Sansa's lip curled. Definitely the biggest non-perk of her job. “Oh, our Operations Manager decided to show up at...” She glanced down at her watch. “10:55?”
“He's in the control room.” Jeyne gave her a heavy look. “He wants to speak with you.”
“Of course he does,” Sansa muttered.
Grabbing her coffee, she took a step toward the door. Then she stopped and turned, snatching a donut and stuffing half of it in her mouth.
She rode the elevator to the Control Room, finishing her donut in two large bites. As always, when dealing with Joffrey, she prayed her temper would hold. She hadn't exploded on him yet but it was getting harder with every passing day she had to deal with the little prick.
When Sansa was hired four years ago—fresh out of business school with a masters degree in hand— she was hungry to prove herself. She always knew she would be good at managing. She gave a crap about people, she could multitask as well as her mother and she loved losing herself in tiny, little details.
She moved quickly from mid-level manager to the upper echelons of park operations and she had her eye on the prize—Operations Manager— but right at the cusp of reaching her goal, Cersei stepped in and anointed her son the job Sansa had wanted so much.
Since then, Sansa hovered in purgatory, appointed as Deputy Operations Manager while doing Joffrey's work and hers. Sometimes she thought the unfairness would choke her but her mother's voice always echoed in those moments: life isn't fair but when it is, consider that a blessing.
Sansa gave herself one more quick pep talk, than carefully arranged her facial features into a neutral expression as the elevator doors slid open. Joffrey was standing in the middle of the room, sniping at one of techs. Everyone looked miserable.
“Good morning, Joffrey,” she said pleasantly.
He turned, a sneer already in place on his stupid face.
“There you are!” he snapped—like he'd been looking for her all morning, like she was the one slacking off.
She quirked her head, her serene smile firmly in place though she couldn't stop herself from balling up her fists. “What can I help you with?”
He sauntered over to her, his eyes raking her up and down. Sansa had to take a slow, steady breath to tamp down the sudden urge to kick him in the nuts.
“My mother wants paddock 85 inspected,” he said.
“The Indominus Rex paddock?” she said, surprised. “Why?”
“Some of the investors are concerned.”
“Really? I haven't heard—”
“The asset is a lot bigger than anyone expected,” he said impatiently.
“Oh, I didn't know that.” She hated this feeling—being kept in the dark.
He gave her sharp look. “Why would you? You're only my deputy.”
Sansa squeezed her fists so tight, she could feel her tendons bulging.
“I understand,” she said cooly. “But that paddock has been inspected by the top engineering firms. I'm not sure how another one will come up with a different conclusion—”
“My mother wants it, Sansa.” He stepped into her space, his face so close to hers she could feel his warm breath. “And as the owner of this park, she has the final say,” he whispered.
Sansa resisted the urge to step back and straightened her back. She was a tall woman and with her heels on, she was at least an inch taller than him.
“Of course,” she said, peering down at him imperiously. “And when does she want this inspection?”
He stepped away from her, annoyed. “Now.”
Sansa almost choked. “I have the Verizon meeting in an hour! It took weeks to shore up the proposal—”
He waved a hand. “My mother and I will handle it.”
“She's here?”
“Of course not. She'll video in.”
Sansa took a deep breath. If Joffrey was leading the meeting it would be a disaster. If his mother was there to hold his hand, it would probably be okay—as awful as Cersei was, she wasn't stupid.
“Okay.” Sansa nodded once. “Is there a firm she had in mind?”
“Not a firm. A person.”
Well, why the fuck didn't he just say that in the first place!
“There's a raptor facility east of the island,” Joffrey explained to her, like she was an idiot.
Sansa ground her teeth. “I'm familiar.”
“Are you?” he said doubtfully. “It's one of InGen's research teams. Separate from the park, obviously.”
Sansa took a deep, controlled breath. Of course she knew that! She knew everything that went on in the island even if it wasn't technically her responsibility.
“There's a team leader there. Theo?” he said, already bored with the conversation. “Theo Greyhappy? I don't know what the fuck his name is.”
Sansa almost groaned. “Theon Greyjoy.”
“Yes, whatever.” He scowled at her. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he snapped. He shooed her away with his fingers. “Go on now, little mouse.”
Sansa clenched her jaw so tight, it was a wonder she didn't crack any teeth. She turned on her heel and marched back to the elevator without another word. She was reminded of her mother's favorite movie: 9 to 5, where the main character accidentally thinks she spiked her horrible boss's coffee with rat poison. She wasn't a violent person but it was times like these she wished she could channel her sister's rage.
She stormed inside the elevator, jabbing the button like it personally insulted her. She glared at Joffrey's back like it had a giant bullseye taped to it and she was still staring at the same spot when the elevator doors closed. When they opened again, it was Jeyne's worried face that greeted her.
“Was it terrible?” Jeyne asked, shifting on her feet. “He seemed to be in a mood.”
“He's been worse.” Sansa sighed. “He wants the Indominus paddock inspected again.”
“When?”
Sansa gave her a look. “When do you think?”
“Now??” Jeyne exclaimed.
Sansa nodded.
“B-But the Verizon—” Jeyne sputtered. “We spent weeks on that...” Jeyne looked like she was going to cry.
Sansa squeezed Jeyne's shoulder. “I know. And you did an incredible job on it too,” she said, trying to sound positive. “Why don't you send the proposal to Joffrey and Cersei, okay?”
“Okay.” Jeyne nodded then sighed. “Tell me who you want to inspect the paddock and I'll see what their schedule looks like.”
“Don't bother. Cersei wants Theon Greyjoy to look at it.”
Jeyne perked up. “The raptor guy? Didn't you grow up with him?”
Sansa turned and headed back to her office—Jeyne right next to her.
“He was my brother's best friend,” Sansa said. “Still is, I suppose.”
“I saw him at last year's Christmas party,” Jeyne said, her voice dreamy.
Sansa fought the herculean urge to roll her eyes.
“And then I saw him at Rio's...” Jeyne continued. “Or was it Cactus? Well, anyway, I ran into him at one of the bars and he didn't seem interested in talking with anyone.”
“He keeps to himself,” Sansa said simply.
He wasn't always like that. When Sansa was young, Theon had been a friendly child—a little mischievous. As he got older and started chasing girls, that friendliness evolved into a smooth, arrogant charm Sansa wasn't fond of.
But everything changed when Theon decided to join the Marine Corps right out of high school, something to do with impressing his father or at least that's what Robb had said.
“I've only seen him a few times myself,” Sansa said.
Jeyne nudged her arm. “Well, at least he's cute.”
Sansa shot Jeyne a look. Was he though? Even when Sansa was a boy-crazy girl—barely a teen—and Theon was in high school, she never thought he was exactly cute. Okay, in certain angles he could be. Sometimes, when he wasn't a cocky asshole, he was even pretty. But other times, he had cold reptilian look Sansa didn't like, usually when he said something stupid or gross.
But now, during the rare times she saw him, he looked harder. Weary.
“I can call the raptor compound,” Jeyne suggested. “See what his schedule is?”
Sansa made a B-line to her desk, grabbing her keys from the top drawer. “Don't worry about it.” She slid her phone in her skirt pocket. “He's always with his raptors.”
She headed toward the door and called over her shoulder, “I'll be back as soon as I can!”
As she rode the elevator down to the parking garage, she reorganized her to-do list on her phone. When did it become so freaking long? She rubbed at the tight muscles behind her neck. Her forehead throbbed with the start of a headache.
She really hoped to God this little side-trip didn't completely derail her day.