Chapter Two - A Rainbow Collision

Declan hated Police Officers. Gendarmerie. Despicable word. No one at the place could take a joke. Too often any he cracked

landed him warnings. Honestly. Other people around him with light skin could say things without warning. He made a face at a Gendarme without thinking and received a glare in

return. "Pfft á toi aussi!" he called after the officer.

"Eh, garcon. Troubadour! Un appel au teléphone!”

Blinking, Declan turned to the voice with a shocked expression, wounded. Why, why were people so mean to him all the time. Garçon was especially rude. Merxx. He took a deep

breath and gave the gendarme a bright smile as he stood up. "Jarrive!" I'm coming. Declan walked over and into a room. Grabbing the phone, he said in English, "Declan

speaking, how can I help—"

"What in the hell were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that? Declan, sometimes I don't even know why I bother to ask you to help.”

Declan sighed. "Mal, it's fine. It got settled, M. Dupont will be out tomorrow morning.” Malik always worried way too much.

"Then why am I calling you at the police station because you lost your phone?”

Ah Declan waved his free hand not holding the phone. "It's not lost, it's being held because I needed to bring M. Dupont good food—something the French give leeway with, and

tell him it was only a night—"

"Declan, Monsieur Dupont is in there for you. So I ask again, what were you thinking?"

Damm it. "Not now. Not here. call you later.”

"Fine."

Declan shuddered at Malik's tone and after bidding his brother good morning, and hung up. He went to the front desk to get his phone again, bowed to the policiers and policieres

and those possibly somewhere in between, then left and nearly ran into a neon rainbow. "Mademoiselle! Madame! Miss!"

Amara was groggy as she went into work, but she had managed to get at least three or four hours of sleep. Almost more like a nap, really, but the day's work got her going again eventually. Around 5, there was a pause in work and she leaned on a countertop in back, deciding where she would go later. Out, certainly; but to another party or not was still debatable. She probably shouldn't press things after last night, and she should also get to sleep a bit earlier. Maybe she could just find a low-key club or café and chill for a while…

"So when did you meet Declan?" her cousin Milo  pipped up, joining her.

Amara looked at him, shocked. "What? Who?"

"Declan," Milo  repeated, grinning and holding up her phone.

Amara swore and grabbed at the phone, Milo  moving it just in time. "Milo  I swear someday I will do you in, and nobody will question why!" She punched his shoulder.

"Ow!" He winced, and she snatched the phone back. "Hey!"

"What did you tell him?" she accused, going to her messages.

"Nothing you shouldn't have said!" Milo  replied, grinning.

Her hands were busy so she kicked him.

"Ooow! Uncalled for! Geez, Amara, I was helping. He'll be here later today."

Amara had just read the text with the address. She swatted him.

"Hey!"

"Stop stealing my phone," she said.

"You were busy."

Amara rolled her eyes. "Just quit messing with things, would you?"

"Why, is he cute?"

Amara made a frustrated sound and made to hit him again. He flinched, and she just put her phone in her pocket. She turned and walked back to work, swatting him as she passed. He cringed but chuckled anyway. She really needed to change her password more often.

"No, see," Declan explained in English on his phone as he walked towards where the bakery where Amara was supposed to work was, "by tomorrow morning, I meant actually tomorrow, as in the day after the one I was calling you on, today, because it was already morning. I will be taking more food to M. Dupont later. No it is not too much because you can never have too much good food and besides the gendarmerie probably will have some too. M. Dupont will offer them some, if there is too much, probably. Maybe."

"That's not what I meant when I asked why he was there," Mal was not about to stop questioning anytime soon.

Declan sighed. He suddenly just wanted to get the news over with. He switched to Arabic. "Lucas actually showed up in person."

Mal swore.

"Dupont kept anything from happening, but… well, then the gendarmerie showed up. Lucas left before they got there. I'm not a minor, but Dupont passed me off as a dependent, and managed to convince everyone that there was a large misunderstanding, on many accounts. He was still charged, but only for trespassing. He was mostly kept overnight for observation, and protection, because they thought he really was just caught up in the wrong things, although it seemed like it wasn't the first time they'd dealt with that with him… I don't know exactly. You know M. Dupont. Sort-of." Declan did, at least. As well as anybody did, really. The man was an enigma, although an extremely helpful one. Declan would yet figure out how to see his house and whatever was in it.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"How did you get off without anything, even as a dependent?"

Ah. "Weeeell, none of them recognized He has had plenty of run-ins with them in the past, but in other parts of the city. He lives over on the other end, , and no one wanted to deal with more paperwork that early in the morning, especially if M. Dupont wasn't going to be officially charged with much, sooo…"

"You had better make this up to him."

"Oh I will!" Declan affirmed vehemently. "I am! Working on it. But not right now. Earlier I was, and did, and I will later too. The food while he is in there is part of it. But right now I am going to go see a fantastic rainbow person I met last night. Morning. This morning. After things."

"Declan," Mal said, serious, "don't try—"

Declan quickly interrupted, waving his free hand. "She's not connected with anything! Anyone. She was all colorful from a rave and was walking around at the same time I was. Swear. She's even Arabic, I think." Her accent had been perfect, beautiful. He couldn't really tell what she looked like aside from the splatters of color, but he didn't mind that.

He glanced at the street signs. "But I am nearly there so I will talk to you later."

Mal sighed. "Fine." His voice sounded weary of arguing. "Just… don't be stupid."

"No, that is definitely not the plan." What did Mal think he was, twelve? He was twenty-four and even if he looked nineteen, he was still mature enough to do things cleverly. Usually. "Goodbye, dear brother."

Mal said a tired goodbye and hung up.

Declan had already moved on in his thoughts as he hung up. He would be smart and charming, and all of the things that would help him be noticeable. To her: Amara. He had gotten a solid four hours of sleep; he felt great. He was sure she would, too, be great that was, however she really looked. He grinned. He was looking forward to seeing what she looked like under the paint.