Chapter Five - Lunch Plans

"Amara!" a female voice demanded in French over the phone. "You should tell me these things sooner!"

"Oh my gosh Shay," Amara responded, with a wince from her friend's tone and a small smile anyway, "it just happened!"

"No, it did not 'just' happen, it was planned and I was not informed."

Amara rolled her eyes, leaning back in the seat in the café. "Technically, Milo planned it. I didn't even find out about it until I was working, you know."

Shay huffed over the phone. "Well; I guess I'll save my tirade for him then. But still."

Amara chuckled. "Why the big deal? You know I usually don't tell you about meeting people until at least the second time, unless craziness happens."

"Um, you met outside of the police station, he kissed your hand, and he speaks Arabic. Not only that, but he wasn't a total creep about it. I think that's pretty crazy."

Amara giggled. "It was 5 AM! I wasn't going to text you then!"

"I would have seen it when I got up."

"And called me in the middle of work."

"Not necessarily."

"Okay, messaged me a storm."

Shay made some indecisive noises.

Amara laughed again. "Well now you know."

"Okay, fine. So how does he seem now that you've talked with him a bit? Do you think he's telling the truth? Do you know when you're going to go on another date?"

"Shay! Geez, I don't know." She smiled. "I told him to text me, so whenever he does that, I guess."

"You know this goes both ways right?"

"Shay, I just met him. Technically today."

"I know," Shay drawled, "but it's been a while since I've heard you this excited about someone."

Amara blinked. "Really?"

"Yes!"

She sipped the milkshake Declan had left behind thoughtfully. When was the last time she had really been interested in someone? "Well, it's still just one day so far. We'll see how it goes."

"Soooo are you going to text him?"

"Eventually. He said he was busy today, which was why he ran off."

"Are you going to ask him out?"

"Shay! Yes! Eventually!" Amara laughed. "Though technically, I kind-of already have. I told him to let me know whenever he's up to exploring parties. Although that reminds me, help me keep an eye out for something fun that won't scare him too much. He's never been to a rave or club before, at least not that I gathered."

Shay gasped. "Oh. This will be fixed. I'll text you when I've found something."

"Thanks."

"And I can help with cost if it's ticketed, too."

"What? No, you don't—"

"Amara, I want to meet this boy. If for no other reason than to congratulate him on making your post-police day better. They really need to stop profiling so much."

"Shay, I wasn't arrested."

"Were you covered in paint?"

"Yes."

"See?"

Amara sighed. "Shay, I'm not arguing, but I wasn't the only one detained." She had been detained a bit longer, but she wouldn't mention that to Shay. Usually, Amara didn't mind complaining to her friend, but Shay had become more of an activist lately and Amara didn't want to deal with that. She could deal with her own problems, even if they weren't her fault.

"Well, take names next time," Shay chided.

"Sure."

"Really! You aren't the only one affected by this, you know."

"Alright. Sorry, I know."

"Okay." Shay loosened up again. "Now, go do some stretches or something. You probably need it after that rave and work."

"Yeah. After I finish this shake, in a bit."

"Oh? What happened to your moccaccino?"

Amara shrugged. "It's mostly done. But Declan left his shake behind, and it's chocolate."

Shay chuckled. "Right. I'll talk to you later lovely."

"Bye beautiful."

They hung up, and Amara drew on the dregs of the shake. Was she not usually this happy? She didn't feel especially different. Maybe Shay was reading too much into things. Or maybe it had just been a long time since Amara called to talk about someone and not complained about them. Probably the latter. She decided that would change, starting with Declan. However long he stayed, she would be happy about it. She didn't think that would be a problem. Even after the fact, though, she wanted to keep it positive. She wondered how long he would stay.

She blinked. It had been one day. She was already thinking in terms of length? She shook her head; no. He was definitely an immediate friend, and interested in more. But she wouldn't speculate on anything more until after he had been to a party. Not that those were exceptionally good places to get to know people, but they were a way to spend time with friends.

And if he should happen to show up in the meantime as well, she wouldn't discourage him, either. She smiled to herself, took care of her cups, and left. 

"Are you sure?" Declan asked again as he juggled his phone and a pan over the stove. The phone against his ear, and the pan over the stove, that was. He hadn't put his Bluetooth on before deciding that he would call Dupontin the middle of cooking the next day. Dupontwas already back at his home before Declan was even up. "Because I already have the food together. Mostly. I just would need to bring—"

A chuckle over the line interrupted him. "I assure you, Declan, I am just fine. Your meals the other day were more than enough, for both me and the gendarmes. I am already home, and am looking forward to making something for myself, something simple."

"I can do simple," Declan argued as he put the pan down and turned off the heat, then stirred a pot. He nearly lost the phone in the process, but saved it and put it up against his ear again in less than a second.

Dupont laughed at him again, rudely. No, not really rudely, Dupont could laugh without being rude about it. It was more of a soft, grandfatherly chuckle, if anything. "Only if you are forced to, my boy. I won't do that to you."

Declan still pouted. "But I could just bring it to your house. I wouldn't even have to stay if you didn't want."

"No, no, though I thank you for the offer. Save it for another time, or share it with someone else. Is Hugo around?"

"Dad's out with Lou." Lou was Hugo's seeing-eye dog. "They won't be back for a while."

"Well, I'm sure he'd appreciate it anyway."

Declan huffed a little. His dad was used to Declan's random cooking splurges. Appreciation was one word, but Declan wanted to cook for someone else. Although… there was someone else that he could probably share it with. Declan grinned. "Yes I'm sure he would. I will leave him some of it in the fridge. Thank you, Peluche, and I hope you enjoy your simple meal that you made yourself, even if it is boring. I will bring you more food another time."

He barely waited for the good-hearted goodbye before making another call. He took the pan off the stove while it rang. He got some sealed plasticware out; he preferred the ceramic containers but they were heavier and he would be carrying them on a bus. He looked at the plastic critically, then put them back and got out some ceramic containers anyway. That was what saranwrap was for. He would just have to be careful with the packing.

"Hello?"

"Hello!" he said, then switched to Arabic. "Hello. What are you doing right now? Do you like chicken?"

"Ahm," Amara stalled. He could hear her smile over the phone, if a bit confusedly. "I'm working, but yeah. Why?" She was using Arabic now, too.

He grinned. "Do you have a break in the next hour or two? I have food that I have cooked that I know you would enjoy."

She scoffed. "Oh?"

"Yes. So do you have a break? Or do you want to wait until later? As in later today because I really think it would be best to have it today. Unless you don't want it, but that would be a sad loss on your part. For the food. It really tastes best soonest after cooking; as much as you can, anyway." He was dishing up food anyway.

"Yes, I do have a break soon. Just… are you bringing it with you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, don't come in the front with it. There's a back door; I'll meet you there."

His heart fluttered a bit. "Yes. Secret meeting by the back door; got it."

Amara giggled. "It's not secret, just at the back..."

Declan nodded, nearly making the phone drop again but catching it and himself. He set down the pot and readjusted the phone, pretending like nothing had happened, then put the other portions in. He had held off mixing everything for Dupontbecause the man couldn't handle spices as much as he and his father could, but chicken masala tasted better when the chicken had been in the masala for longer. He didn't have time to remake it, but he could at least let it marinade on the way over.

"Declan?"

"Yes. Be there," he said quickly. "I will see you then. Definitely. I— will see you."

"You said that."

"Yes. And I will. Goodbye Miss Amara." He hung up to the sound of her laughter.

He finally put the phone away and made sure that he had everything together. He was going to make the best of this that he could, even if she was on a time limit break, and he hadn't planned on doing this for Amara, or he would have spent even more time on it than for Peluche. And he wasn't sure if she even liked spicy food. He swallowed. Surely she did. It seemed impossible that she didn't. But how spicy? He looked at the food, then put another helping of his hummus in a side container. Just in case. Because he just remembered that he had spiked the masala with extra spices for the gendarmes.