Chapter One - The angel and the rock god

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Laval Train Station

Sunday November 25th 2007

11 AM

A cold wind blew across the relatively deserted station platform.  The only figures present were a large man dressed in a black business suit, and wearing a pair of dark shades and a small boy with a shock of white blonde hair. 

"Gabriel, be patient.  Your uncle will be here soon." The man spoke to the boy who was fidgeting with the ties of a pair of woollen gloves that he was wearing to keep the weather at bay.  The boy muttered under his breath staring at the ground.  Gabriel was not known for his patience.  He was a quiet child, but he could be impatient without having to be noisy.  Was very good at it actually.  He had, of course, been brought up to be polite, neat, kind, generous; but his parents could never hope to instil a sense of patience in him.  A Bouvier trait it was not.  His father, Jonathan had always been known for his inability to sit still, always raring to go.  And Gabriel knew that his Uncle Pierre was the same way. 

"Can't wait..." The boy grumbled.  The man's face twisted in a semblance of a smile.  He was a highly trained government agent and generally, he wasn't easily amused.  It wasn't his place to be a comic act.  He was there to guard the boy until he was safe in the hands of his guardian.  Still, it was difficult not to smile around his young charge. 

"I was never patient when I was 8.  But I learned.  It comes in handy." 

"Don't want to learn..." Gabriel shuffled his feet.  He wore a pair of black leather shoes, polished until they shone.  They looked like the kind of shoes that an older man would wear, not a boy of eight years.  The same could be said for the clothes he was wearing.  A long sleeved shirt and suit jacket, trousers and tie.  The bright yellow woollen gloves and scarf looked oddly out of place.  Yet, it was a cold day and the agent wasn't going to allow the boy to freeze before he had seen him safely into the care of his uncle. 

The agent sighed.  "You will.  One day."

Gabriel shook his head, adamant.  "No.  I won't."

"Won't what?"

The agent and boy turned.  Approaching them, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, was a young man with scruffy dark hair.  He moved with the lean, casual grace of a large cat; deep brown eyes twinkling beneath long black lashes. 

"Tonton Pierre!"

Gabriel rushed forward and tackled the big man.  Pierre laughed, catching the boy's small body in his arms and swinging him around before setting him back on the ground.   

"Hello, Gabe.  What are you going on about?"

The agent snorted.  Pierre looked at him for the first time, dark eyes narrowing.  The other man swallowed and straightened his back.

"He doesn't want to learn patience."

Pierre chuckled.  "Ah.  A Bouvier after my own heart." He became serious then, his eyes hardening.  "You have all his things?"

The agent sensed the change in the young man and quickly passed him the two bags that contained the boy's belongings.

"This is all he has.  Everything else in the house...Jason Bouvier is organising what's to be done with them.  He said...he says that he believes that Gabe is better off with you...but...I think you already knew that?"

Pierre nodded, expression grave. 

"For security reasons.  You don't need to explain, I understand." He glanced down at his nephew who was looking at the ground, scuffing his shoes.  "He's in good hands."

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