Work Text:
3 AM. It was no time to be awake, and certainly no time to be awakened by the ringing of his cell phone…or the subsequent frantic voicemail message when he finally did find the damn thing once the ringing stopped.
He listened. Panicked words like “containment breach” and “asset escape” and “we could really use your expertise” filtered through his consciousness. The message ended, and he played it back again, just to be sure he’d heard everything correctly.
He considered his options for a few moments. Then, his eyes darting surreptitiously – as if worried someone might see – he pressed ‘delete.’
His bedmate stirred. “Was that the phone?” came the muffled voice from beside him.
“No, no it wasn’t, Billy,” he replied hastily, patting his shoulder. “Go back to bed, it was nothing.” The younger man yawned and nodded, already half asleep.
Dr. Alan Grant shook his head, glaring at the phone before turning off the ringer and lying down again. “I am getting way too old for this shit,” he muttered, closing his eyes and drifting back to sleep.