Nick Cutter wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he had quietly given up on finding his bondmate a while ago.

He's a romantic at heart and knows it, but cold practicality has a habit of kicking romantic notions right out the door. Trying to pick one needle out of a haystack of just over six billion? The odds are too small to calculate.

He had married Helen, even though he wasn't her bondmate nor she his, because she was like him in that way, just without the romantic bit.

That marriage was one doomed from the onset, he knows.

Though there are few outlier cases, usually, relationships between people that aren't bondmates don't last.

Marriages in particular.

Perhaps, he muses, subconsciously, some part of the brain knows when they're with the wrong person and reacts accordingly, finding arguments to start.

Or maybe he's just that terrible with women.

Sadly enough, the second option is the more likely one.

Even if he is a romantic, Nick is not a ladies' man, even before he met Helen.

How he even convinced her to marry him is beyond him now.

And then she was gone, too.

So he sits at the bar of a hotel, looking down into his glass of whisky and wondering what colour the liquor is.

A hand grasps his shoulder and turns him, and then a soft and sweet mouth is pressed against his, slender fingers grasping the lapel of his coat.

It isn't until said fingers let go and said mouth pulls back that he gets his first look at the owner.

Good thing he's sitting, or he would've fallen.

Gold. That's his first and favourite colour. The little sparks of gold in the lovely brown eyes of this woman that's kissed him at the bar, thrown into relief by the soft lighting.

And how about that, it's almost the same colour as the whisky he'd just been musing on.

It's then that Nick realises he's still staring at her like an idiot, and he blurts without thinking, "I found my sodding needle."

She laughs, but it isn't a mocking sound. It's soft and rich and makes his toes curl in his boots. "My name's Claudia Brown."

Oh, of course, of course she's named that, with a colour she couldn't see until now, and the very same colour as her gold-flecked eyes.

"I'm Nick Cutter."

"I actually know who you are."

"Beg pardon?"


Claudia Brown knows that she was given this assignment because she's the most junior person currently in the department, and it rolls downhill, after all.

When she was given the assignment, her boss was at least kind enough to offer some advice.

"Find yourself a scientist. One of those archaeologist types, they can set this straight quick and easy. Try up at CMU."

So she did. And after asking around, the consensus was that the person to speak to is one Professor Nick Cutter of Palaezoology, in the Department of Evolutionary Zoology.

Except when she went to his office, she had found he was already gone to the Forest of Dean. Joy.

So she sits in the bar of a hotel, hoping that if the professor was out here for the same reason she was, he'd show up here.

And of course, being a young and reasonably attractive woman sitting alone in a bar, she is invariably chatted up by a variety of slimeball men that are more than likely businessmen looking for a 'souvenir' to remember their trip by.

She turns each one down as kindly as she can.

She doesn't see the point in dating, even though she hasn't found her bondmate yet, because it seems (to her) pointless trying to start a relationship when there is already someone out there meant for her.

Bit like setting up for failure, that.

As she contemplates striking the latest bloke around the head with her bag, she casts a glance around the bar, praying for distraction.

And finds one in most stunning fashion.

Sometime between her second drink and her newest "suitor's" arrival, the very professor she was looking for has taken up a seat at the bar.

And when she sees him, the first colour that sparks off is green, the dark, rich green of the military jacket that he's wearing.

Well.

All of a sudden, this assignment isn't so bad, and she's mentally thanking her boss.

Claudia chokes out, "Excuse me, my boyfriend just got here."

She slips away without waiting for an answer, walks up to Professor Nick Cutter, and seized by the rush of seeing colour, turns him in his chair and kisses him soundly on the mouth.

When she pulls back, he gapes at her in shock for a moment before blurting, "I found my sodding needle."

It's so absurd that she has to laugh. "I'm Claudia Brown," she says.

He's still staring at her. His eyes are blue and full of awe and softness that's only for her, she knows.

But then he seems to come back to his senses and replies, "I'm Nick Cutter."

"I actually know who you are." She does and God is she ever glad that she was given this assignment.

"Beg pardon?"


Ask Nick Cutter what his favourite colour is, and he'll reply 'gold' without hesitation.

Because gold is surprise and whisky and wonderment and softness all rolled in one.

Ask Claudia Brown what her favourite colour is, and she'll reply 'green' just as easily.

Because green is adrenaline and danger and anomalies and excitement in one go.

And later, when the chaos is down to a dull roar, they will both agree that anomalies have an odd and inexplicable way of drawing together bondmates.

After all, birds of a mad feather...