by Anna Martin
Logan huffed a laugh. “We are having a lot of discussions about the appropriate place to poop,” he said. “She’s very bemused by the concept. Other than that, she’s like any other baby animal, I think. Sleeps a lot, eats a lot, craps far too much comparative to her size.”
“Are you regretting foster parenthood?”
“No,” Logan said, looking down at the little dinosaur. Was she snoring? Kit thought she might be snoring. “I’m starting to think I might be crazy, though. I have no idea how it’s going to work out.”
Kit shrugged. “These things have a way of figuring themselves out.”
“Have you ever adopted an injured baby dinosaur before?”
“No. I was thinking more philosophically.”
“Well, if your philosophical musings lead to any ideas on how to litter-train a dissimosaur, let me know,” Logan said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Kit winced. “She’s not?”
“In a day? No, Kit. We’re working on it.”
“I don’t think I have any newspaper or anything to put down,” he said, fretting.
“Kit. She’s a herbivore. And a very small animal. Just watch your step.”
KIT SHUT the door between the kitchen and the hallway to keep Dizzy contained while Logan got the straps of the sling undone. Dizzy yawned and stretched as she was set down on the hardwood floor in the kitchen and bumped her head against Logan’s ankle in what was clearly an affectionate gesture.
“I can’t get over how….” Kit shook his head.
“You’re not projecting human emotions onto an animal, are you, Dr. Sterling?”
Kit pouted. “You can’t deny how friendly she is.”
“Yeah, that’s a dissimosaur thing.”
“I really have to get out and see them again.”
Logan huffed a laugh.
“I know, I know. I’ve changed my tune.”
“I wasn’t going to say a thing.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
Kit went to the pot and turned the stove off. It didn’t take long to portion the food onto two plates while some broccoli steamed in the microwave. He and Leilani had gotten lazy. Most of their vegetable intake came from frozen packets that could be easily reheated.
“This looks great, thank you,” Logan said as Kit put a plate in front of him.
“There’s more in the pot if you want it.”
“Are you suggesting something?” Logan teased.
“Not at all. You’re clearly a… healthy young man,” Kit said, tucking his tongue into his cheek as he covered his broccoli in sauce from the chicken.
Logan laughed at that, and Kit felt an unfamiliar tickle in his stomach. There really was something about this man that got him feeling flustered.
They ate in silence for a few minutes while Dizzy explored her new surroundings, apparently content with the enclosed, warm space. She eventually picked a spot in front of the oven and settled, her back to the counter.
“I should tell you something,” Kit said, feeling like part of his dinner was stuck in his chest. It wasn’t. He just didn’t have these conversations very often.
“Go on.”
“I, uh, I don’t really date people that often.”
Logan just gave him a warm smile. “Me either. We’re kind of isolated out here.”
“Yeah. And, uh, well, I don’t want to sound presumptive or anything. But I don’t like sleeping with people unless….” He stuttered and forced himself to take a deep breath. “I like sex.” Oh fuck, that wasn’t what he meant to say. “But I prefer to wait until I’m sure it’s going to be, you know. Good.”
“You’re trying to tell me we’re not going to jump into bed tonight?”
“Yeah?” Kit said, feeling supremely awkward, sure he was blushing. He scratched at the back of his head. “I’m sorry, that sounds really weird.”
“No it doesn’t,” Logan said easily, shrugging. “I mean, I have one-night stands every now and then. Not since I moved here. But if you want to take it slow, that’s fine by me. Shit, I’m not the sort of asshole who pressures someone into having sex on the first date.”
“I didn’t think you were. I just wanted you to know my deal.”
“Your deal is fine,” Logan said, knocking his foot against Kit’s under the table.
“So I booked my moms into one of the empty apartments for when they come to stay,” Kit said, wanting to change the subject.
“Yeah? My folks stayed in one when they came over last year. They liked it.”
They finished dinner while exchanging gossip, which was always in high demand on the island. One of Leilani’s colleagues had come back from Auckland sporting a shiny engagement ring—no one had known she’d been having an affair with one of the management team for almost a year.
Afterward, Kit piled the dishes in the sink for later and took Logan and Dizzy through to the living room with the suggestion of watching a movie.
“Do you have any preferences?” Kit asked as he pulled up his Netflix account.
“Not really.”
Because Kit was Kit, he loaded a nature documentary and the soothing tone of Sir Attenborough’s voice became the perfect backdrop. Curled up on the couch together, they watched as Dizzy once again explored her new environment, apparently curious about the texture of the thick, fluffy rug under her feet.
“She’s so cute,” Kit said, dropping his head to Logan’s shoulder.
“Yeah. We should really take her back in to see if we can figure out what’s wrong with her.”
“She doesn’t seem in pain anymore.”
“I have a theory.” He winced. “It’s not very nice, though.”
“Go on.”
“I think maybe the mother sort of abandoned her. Or just wasn’t feeding her properly. She’s settled a lot since she’s been fed at regular intervals.”
“Possible,” Kit said. “There’s definitely something wrong with her legs, though.”
“She doesn’t walk like the others.”
“No. Do dinosaurs get arthritis?”
“At her age? Unlikely.”
“Hmm. Some congenital defect, maybe.”
“Yeah. Which would explain why her mother abandoned her, but we didn’t find anything on the scan.”
Kit reached down and carefully smoothed his hand over Dizzy’s head. Her skin was rough, and slightly bumpy where it wasn’t covered in feathers. Now that they were inside, the irregular color and texture of her skin and feathers was even more noticeable than when they were out on the island. The camouflaged dinosaur couldn’t hide indoors.
“We might have missed something. She’s okay now, though.”
“She’s getting there.”
“There’s something I wanted to ask you about,” Kit said, fiddling with the edge of the blanket he kept on the couch.
“Go on.”
“When you were out on the North Island, a few weeks back, we were all called into a meeting and someone from PR came down to tell us not to talk to the press. There’s dinosaur leather for sale on the black market, apparently.”
Logan laughed. “Dinosaur leather?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s probably crocodile. Or alligator.”
“That’s what I thought too. So I went looking for it.”
“You know your way around black-market websites?” Logan seemed impressed.
Kit shrugged. “I was something of a nerd in my younger years. I know you’re surprised.”
Logan grinned. “Totally.”
“I saved a few images; hang on.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed through until he found the pictures he was looking for. “Here.”
Logan dutifully flicked through them. “Kit….”
“I know. I don’t know what I’m looking at. It could be crocodile leather. It’s the right texture. But it could be oviraptor too.”
“No one would be able to take down an oviraptor without training,” Logan said. “Even a skilled
hunter would need to know where to shoot. They’re tricky buggers to tranq. I imagine they’d be even harder to kill.”
“Okay, so maybe not an oviraptor. But a ceratopsian, maybe? Or a juvenile parasaur.”
Logan nodded slowly. “It’s not outside the realm of possibility.”
He enlarged the image, trying to see the detail in the pattern. There were two swatches of leather about the size of a standard sheet of paper, and a small wallet. The wallet had been treated and colored, so it was hard to see what color the leather was originally. Both swatches were a grayish tan color.
“I don’t know. Unless we can get our hands on it to test it?”
“I’m pushing for that,” Kit said. “My supervisors are really not on board with the idea, though. They’re writing it off as crocodile and that stupid people are being scammed. You must have seen poaching before, though, working in Kenya?”
Logan huffed and pushed his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Yeah. Poachers are scum.” Logan shook his head. “I don’t even want to think how they would get here.”
“How would you know?” Kit asked. “Could you find out? Do they leave any trace?”
“It depends. In some of the preserves I worked at, you’d see the holes in the fences or find corpses. Other times they’d shoot and take the animal with them. Then you only know someone’s missing by counting the herds or whatever. But that’s not an exact science.”
“We don’t have fences,” Kit said, leaning back in his seat. “We don’t know how many animals are in each family group, and we don’t know at what rate they die or are hunted naturally.”
“No. If it were me—” Logan shook his head. “—I would take from the North Island. It’s not a secret that we know far less about the animals up there. My team visit less frequently, and it could be possible for a boat to get in and out without detection, if they came in during bad weather.
“They’d take the animal with them,” he continued, rubbing at his eyes. “No point in leaving anything that could tip us off that they’d been there. Plus, it’s not like elephant hunting where the only thing they’re interested in is ivory. These assholes want the whole animal.”
“Yeah.” Kit was listening but still examining the pictures on his phone. There was something horribly wrong with the image Logan was painting and the one on the screen. “Logan, this could be dissimosaur hide.”
He handed over the phone, and Logan stared at it for a long moment, then looked over to where Dizzy was curled up, content and dozing.
“Motherfuckers.”
“I’m not saying it is,” Kit said in a rush. “But it could be.”
“Yeah. It could be.”
Kit locked the phone screen and set it aside. He couldn’t think about that for now. He had a habit of stewing on theories until he had a way of proving or disproving them. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be about unpicking half-baked ideas.
Feeling bold, Kit braced his hands on Logan’s impressively broad shoulders and straddled his lap. Logan made a little “oh” noise and blushed.
“Is this okay?” Kit asked, wondering if his boldness was unwelcome.
“Very okay. Where, uh… where should I put my hands?”
Kit laughed and took hold of Logan’s wrists, guiding them to his ass.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Logan said, settling his palms so they were cupping Kit’s asscheeks.
“Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes, please.”
EPISODES OF the documentary played one after the other with no prompting.
Kit moaned, low and filthy, and Logan pulled away. He rubbed their noses together and chuckled softly when Kit leaned in for another kiss.
“I should go,” he said in a low voice. “It’s late.”
“It’s not so late.”
“It’s—” He checked his watch. “—almost one in the morning, Kit.”
“Oh. That is late.”
Logan laughed again. “Trust me, I could do this for hours. But we were going to take Dizzy into the infirmary again in the morning.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
She’d eaten and fallen back asleep in the time they’d been making out, taking a particular fondness to Kit’s thick, fuzzy rug.
Kit stretched, yawned, opened his mouth to say something, and shut it again.
“Hmm?” Logan asked.
“Nothing.”
“Sure?”
“I… was worried earlier that I’d put you off kissing me. Or doing anything.”
Logan shook his head. “I’m very okay with putting you in charge.”
“Oh really.” Kit smirked.
“Shut up,” Logan said with a laugh. “I’m okay with waiting. Or doing things at your pace.”
He stroked his fingers through Kit’s hair and pushed it back behind his ear.
“We’re apparently not that good at waiting,” Kit said.
“I think it’s underrated. I like you a lot. There’s no need to rush anything.”
Kit nodded, smiling, and put his glasses back on.
Logan swept his hands up from Kit’s waist, then smoothed his shirt back down again. Kit felt a deep sense of regret when he climbed off Logan’s lap, even if he agreed that it was probably for the best. It would take no effort at all to take Logan by the hand and lead him to Kit’s bedroom, but Kit was the one who’d wanted to go slow. He could stick to his guns… for now.
Logan gathered a recalcitrant Dizzy into his arms and pulled his jacket around them both. Then he leaned in for another kiss.
“Good night,” Kit murmured, lingering at the door, hoping for one more kiss before Logan crept out into the night.
“See you tomorrow.”
Kit got the kiss. He closed the door, smiling.
Chapter Eleven
ON SUNDAY, when the labs were most likely to be empty, Logan and Kit snuck in with Dizzy bundled up in one of Logan’s hoodies. It wasn’t that they were hiding her, not exactly. It just wasn’t… politic, for anyone else to know about her yet.
On the walk over, Logan had updated Kit on the progress he’d made so far with feeding their dissimosaur. Kit was quietly impressed. Logan had foraged a huge amount of vegetation from across the bridge and was introducing it to Dizzy one thing at a time, checking what she was interested in and what she firmly ignored. Everything was documented and written down—times, dates, facial expressions. Dizzy’s, not Logan’s.
Kit was starting to think that maybe this wasn’t the most stupid idea he’d ever had. It sure ranked up there, but possibly not the absolute worst anymore. Keeping hold of Dizzy would be a continuing experiment, and it wasn’t like they could just pop to the store and buy kibble designed to perfectly meet her nutritional needs.
Logan held the door to the infirmary clinic and let Kit duck in under his arm.
“Okay,” Logan said decisively, putting the Dizzy-hoodie bundle down on the same stainless steel table they’d used last time. “How should we do this?”
Kit shook his head. “You’re the one with the veterinary degree.”
Dizzy started making those pained little noises again, and Kit immediately gave her his palm to nuzzle at. She seemed to like that, it calmed her, and he wondered if there was something in dissimosaur herd behavior that encouraged skin-to-skin contact.
“I think we should x-ray her,” Logan said. “I’m not sure how we keep her still, though.”
“I can hold her.”
“It’s not really the best way to do it. We should really be out of the room while we take the pictures. I don’t want to have to do it over and over since we don’t know if she’ll react to the radiation.” He shook his head in frustration. “There’s just so many unknowns.”
“We could sedate her again,” Kit said.
“Yeah. That’s kind of a last resort thing, though.”
“Will she sit still if you tell her to?”
Logan gave him a pointed look. “Are you serious?”
Kit shrugged. “
Have you tried?”
“No.”
He looked put out at this, and Kit took the chance to admire the soft pout of Logan’s bottom lip.
“Let me get the machine set up,” Logan said. Kit pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing.
Dizzy sat back on her haunches and stretched her neck to look for Logan. Kit already had a hunch that she was imprinting on Logan, and this was only fuel for the fire. Though she was okay with Logan being out of her sight, she seemed to go on high alert, only relaxing again when she could see him.
The X-ray machine was smaller than Kit had anticipated. He hadn’t seen it when Logan had been treated here. The doctor had determined nothing was broken without needing to x-ray.
Mostly the infirmary dealt with the occasional burn from a careless lab assistant, or an office worker with heatstroke during the summer. Once, one of Kit’s team had broken a finger when something fell on him.
“Should have done this before,” Logan grunted. “Stupid.”
“Friday night we were making sure there wasn’t anything immediately obvious that was going to mean she wouldn’t survive the night. Now we have more time to run proper diagnostics. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
Logan huffed and didn’t say anything further. The machine was apparently heavy, if all the straining Logan’s biceps were doing were suggestive of anything. Jeez, that was pretty to watch.
“Okay, what position do you want her in?” Kit asked once the machine was plugged in and turned on.
“Ideally on her back,” Logan said. “Though I don’t know if she’ll do that without being sedated. Maybe lying on her side?”
Kit nodded and gently coaxed Dizzy off the hoodie. Forcing her into any position was likely to cause her distress, so he poked and prodded until she was lying down, then gently moved her head so it was on the table and not stretching up to look at Logan.
“I think you’re going to have to stay in here,” Kit said.
“Yeah, me too. I’m going to put one of those lead aprons on. Don’t know if I can have kids, but let’s keep the options open.”