The Shape Of Things To Come?

By K9


  Billy Brennan glanced down at the delicate bone he was unearthing, and gasped in horror. He was being *so* careful, so fucking could it have broken?

He dropped back onto the ground, wishing for all the world, that it would just open up and swallow him in.

He couldn't take much more of this.

Dr Grant, yes *the* Dr Alan Grant, of Jurassic Park fame, had agreed to give him, and one other student, a 'try-out' to determine who joined his team, and traveled with him to the new dig in Montana. Billy had been too thrilled for words, when Dr Grant had asked him to try out, which is why he couldn't now believe what a complete mess he was making of it all.

His 'opponent', a sickeningly smart, unbearably good looking, and repulsively *blonde* young man named Richard Davies, was doing *everything* right.

That bastard was asking all of the right questions, never put a foot wrong, and always looked so fucking *clean* and tidy.

Billy reined in his general loathing of the other student, and silently vowed that it was 'nothing personal', he just hated everything about the guy.

Jealousy was an ugly emotion, but at least he was man enough to admit that that's what it was.

No, he was striking out because he was making a mess of things, and Richard wasn't. That was the simple, inescapable truth.

And he hadn't *once* asked Grant about Jurassic Park!

It had started badly, when he, and Richard had broken down on the way to the dig, and Billy had drawn the short straw to get out, and push the the pouring rain.

He'd sunk so far into the mud, that the spatter from the skidding wheels had covered him from head to toe by the time they'd gotten it going again.

What a way to arrive, looking like a street bum.

Of course, Richard looked just fucking *divine* when *he* met Dr Grant for the first time.

Grant had just smiled, that quiet, enigmatic smile that gives nothing away, when he'd seen the state of Billy, and told him to get cleaned up before he caught a chill.

Covering his face with his hands, Billy recalled, in horrible, mind numbing detail, how he'd been unable to say anything, and just nodded dumbly before scurrying away like a schoolboy.

He was such a *jerk* whenever Dr Grant was around. Life was *so* unfair.

Not content with that fiasco, fate had dealt him a few more blows, just to crush his confidence, and grind it into the dirt, once and for all.

The worst had been when he'd managed to demolish the tent...with Dr Grant, and Richard inside it.

He'd been sent to collect the new imaging computer from the truck. It wasn't like a normal personal computer, this was a cumbersome, brute of a machine, and unbelievably heavy. Billy couldn't bring himself to go back, and ask *Richard* for help, so he vowed to struggle on alone. As he'd stumbled along the uneven ground, unable to look where he was going, he'd managed to trip on the tent's main guide rope, becoming impossibly tangled, and soon bringing the damnable thing crashing down.

When he was finally 'untangled', he'd found himself looking up into the smiling face of Dr Grant.

"Billy, why didn't you ask for help?" Grant had asked.

Once again, Billy found himself bereft of speech. He'd merely shrugged, and shook his head.

He had never wanted to cry so badly in his life.

"I....sorry.." he'd mumbled eventually.

"That's okay, accidents happen," Grant held out his hand, and pulled Billy to his feet. "You've cut your head, come with me, I'll clean it up for you."

Billy swallowed hard at that memory. By the time they'd gotten to a tent that he *hadn't* managed to destroy, he was shaking like an idiot.

Alone with Grant in that tent, Billy had so badly wanted to say something, to ask an intelligent question; to ask about Jurassic Park, and what it was like to come face to face with *real* dinosaurs, but he couldn't say a word.

Dr Grant had sat him down, and gently cleaned the small cut on his forehead, finishing it off with a band-aid.

The sensation of being touched by Alan Grant, had been like fire touching ice, and Billy had melted fast.

Rivulets of sweat had snaked down his back, and his whole body had felt like it was on fire.

That was another thing that Billy dreaded becoming apparent.

He was gay.

Bad enough to strike-out because he was an idiot, but he didn't want to leave here with Grant thinking he was some kind of freak too. Not that, deep in his heart, he could ever see Alan Grant thinking something like that, but this was *his* pity party, and he could cry if he wanted to.



Still lying on the ground, mourning the broken Velociraptor bone, Billy closed his eyes, and let himself have a moment of his favorite fantasy. Hell, he deserved it. It had been a really long, lousy day.

The story was always the same, and it always starred Alan Grant, a tent, and getting naked in record time. So, it didn't have much in the way of plot, but the action sequences were *great*.

Alan had that weathered, rugged, look that had turned Billy on since he was a teen, when he'd developed a serious 'Indiana Jones' fetish.

Then, there was the hat.

There was just something about a man in a fedora that lit the flame in his belly so bad, it made him ache in all those pleasant little places just thinking about it.

Yeah, Alan would *have* to keep his hat on.

Just his hat.....

"Hey, Brennan?" a voice suddenly shattered his dream, and Billy shot to his feet.


Richard smiled that 'perfect' barracuda smile, "Dr Grant wants to see us. I think he's made his choice," he smirked.

Never having been the violent type before now, Billy realized that he really badly wanted to punch that smug bastard's lights out, but decided he'd wait until *after* Dr Grant had thrown him out of the program, to do it.

He took one last look around the site, and sighed. Despite everything that had happened, he'd never been happier in his life than he'd been this past few weeks, working here, in the field, with Alan Grant.

Oh well, all dreams have to end......



Watching the jeep pull away, Billy still couldn't believe it. Dr Grant had chosen *him*.

"You want a cup of coffee, Billy. You look like you need one?" Alan Grant called out to him.

"Thank you, sir," Billy mumbled.

"Don't call me 'sir', I'm not a knight of the realm. Call me 'Alan' when we're working, and maybe 'Dr Grant' in front of the backers, but *never* call me 'sir'." Alan smiled suddenly as Billy's eyes widened in horror, that maybe he'd committed another faux pas. "Relax, Billy, I'm teasing you."

"Oh, okay. Thanks...Alan," Billy tried it for size, and the name felt wonderful on his lips. "Can I just ask you, why you chose me, and not Richard? He was 'perfect'. He never made mistakes, he asked all the right questions, and he *never* gets dirty," he asked, puzzled, "The guy must be Teflon coated!"

Alan Grant laughed, as he handed Billy a cup of steaming hot coffee. "Why did I choose you?" he cocked his head slightly, and smiled, "Because you're smart, dedicated, and you're not afraid to get your hands dirty, or anything else, judging by the state you were in when you arrived. You haven't exactly had the best few weeks here, have you?"

"You noticed?" Billy felt his face crack into a shy smile. So, Alan Grant was more observant than he let on?

"Yet, despite the accidents that have befallen you, you've never given up on anything. In this field, you have to be tenacious, driven, and determined. I think you're all of those things. But, the main reason I chose you over Richard?"

Billy looked up expectantly.

Alan sat back in his chair and grinned, "You never *once* asked me about 'Jurassic Park'."



The end of the beginning........