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Kay's hand hovered over the phone buttons as he recalled London's mobile number. This was not a situation he wanted to be in right now. He didn't have the energy to cope with this.

He pressed the combination of numbers and reluctantly held the phone up to his ear, glancing nervously behind him at the officer who was watching his every move. He'd been arrested before, but this felt different. Kay had no valid explanation, well, no believable explanation. He clenched his teeth as the ringing continued – London was probably in class. Probably had better things to be doing.

"Hey, this is London's phone, leave a message!" London's cheery tone was enough to make Kay nauseous. He would have to try again. Kay punched the number in again, only to be greeted by the same voicemail message.

"Hey? London, it's Kay, can you call me back? I – uh – I think I need a lawyer," was all he said before hanging up.

One more try, he decided.

Kay put in the number a third time, this time, the phone rang just twice before he heard London on the other end.

"Yeah? This is London Friar –" Kay cut him off.

"London – I – I fucked up and I need a lawyer. Can you come to the airport? They're detaining me for trying to leave the country on a stolen passport."

"Kay? You did what?"

"You heard me."

"Give me an hour, and I'll be there, don't say anything stupid, for god's sake. Just sit tight," London instructed over the phone. "Tell them that you refuse to speak with them without legal counsel present and that you're taking advantage of your right to remain silent. Got it?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I've got it," Kay responded. "Thank you."

Kay did as he was told. He informed the escorting officer that he wasn't speaking without a lawyer, and wasn't going to answer any questions. He got a slightly ruffled response, but wasn't bothered by anyone. He was simply left alone in the interrogation room, which he supposed was a good thing. They hadn't even bothered with cuffs, which would have been insulting if he thought about it longer.

"Kay?" London was at the door with a folder and... company? That was when it hit Kay. London wasn't a lawyer. He hadn't passed the bar, nor was he close. Still eight months off, at least. Kay would have to explain the situation to a stranger, who would be obligated to contact the appropriate authorities, not keep a secret. Even the idea sent a chill through him.

"Kay? This is Ms. Lévesque. You can trust her with everything you've told me," London was trying to be comforting, Kay could tell. It was patronising.

"Call me Chloe," the woman responded, adjusting her grey, fitted suit jacket and taking a seat across from Kay. "I've been told that your situation is complicated."

Kay scoffed. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Tell me about it," Chloe responded, "I can't help unless I know."

Kay wasn't sure what happened; he found himself slumped over the table, arms crossed and face buried, shaking his head. He didn't even react when London came to sit beside him, only looking up when he spoke.

"Kay, stop being dramatic. Chloe is one of the best I know, she wants to help," London offered as an explanation. And Kay looked up, glancing between the two in uncertainty. He swallowed hard, his pride along with it.

"I – uh – I'm a US citizen, or was," Kay started. "I was on the missing persons list for a while, but my family – um – they were told that my body," Kay looked down at this, "Police said they found my body and – um – They declared me dead. But I'm not – I just woke up here, and London helped me get a job and everything but... But I want to go back home, so I had someone at work get hold of a passport for me. I didn't know it was stolen! I thought it was a fake. I just want to go home," he glanced across at London, though his disapproval was written all over his face.

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